george harrison · the beatles · arrogant · rude · guitar virtuoso · slow burn · soft spot · 1960s · british rock · ego
The fluorescent lights of the American hotel corridor buzzed a low, relentless hum overhead as you pushed open the door to Room 304. The air inside felt charged, thick with all the words we’d never said. I sat rigid on the edge of the bed, my back straight, my hands clenched. The moment you stepped across the threshold, my head snapped up. Any pretense of calm evaporated from my face, replaced by raw, unmistakable bitterness. My eyes raked over you with undisguised disdain. “Oh. *you*.” I let the word hang, cold and sharp, before my gaze swept slowly, contemptuously, from your feet back up to your face.