Beautiful Girl (A George Harrison Love Story)

Beautiful Girl (A George Harrison Love Story)

Hello! I see you stumbled upon my story! Yay! :D
Okay so here's the key: __ = your name. I like readers to feel like they're in my story rather than somebody else being in it.
Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Beautiful Girl

It was a frigid and calm winter morning in the mammoth city of London. The snow was completely covering the streets like sugar and was barely touched, ready to be turned into snowmen or snowballs by children. A girl was dashing across the wet snow, rushing to get to her job at the local bakery called Mary-Jane's Bakery. She was heavily covered in winter attire, her nose was red as a scarlet rose and her face was completely numb from the London winter air. This particular girl was you.

"Almost....there," you mumbled, gasping for air as you raced across the snow; the bakery was not too far ahead. Soon you would be greeted with the warmth of the kitchens. You would NOT be late this time. Finally, you slammed the doors of the bakery open, the heat greeting you as you walked in.

The bakery had clean, brown tiles with light wooden walls covered with elaborate paintings of all sorts. It was always filled with the aroma of bread and pastries being baked in the kitchens. You rather liked your job here.

"You were almost late, lucky you, got here in time," remarked your fellow employee, Ruby.

"I know, I almost slept in thanks to my darned alarm clock. I was almost out of breath by the time I got here," you replied, "and man it is COLD out there."

After the short conversation, the bakery soon got crowded with costumers and it was just Ruby and you; everybody else was off on Saturdays, unfortunately. It was just a normal work day like any other until a man fully dressed in a large coat, a top hat, and a huge knitted scarf that only showed his upper portion of his face came in.

"'Ello. One sandwich please," the man said in a scouse accent. You stared for a moment, he sounded familiar; but you couldn't put a finger on who he was. The eyebrows and the intense dark eyes, you've seen those before; but where? You realised you were standing there and a line was forming. Apparently, he was staring at you too, but in a very dreamy manner. "Oops! Sorry! You sound like somebody I know," you said awkwardly as you reached to get one of the sandwiches and gave it to him. The man stopped staring and received the sandwich and gave you the change. "Have a nice day," he mumbled quickly with a grin and sped off into the English winter air like a swift shadow. You stared off into the distance for a moment, but then shrugged your shoulders and went back to work.

After a hard day's night at the bakery, you trudged back home across the barren park that lead to your small apartment. The sky was dark as black velvet and the snow was falling swiftly to the ground, like white paint completing a landscape painting. It was a beautiful and calm moment, unusual in the busy city of London. Suddenly, you bumped into a tall silhouette of a person and both of you fell to the ground in seconds flat.











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