Welcome!
First, I would like to say a few things considering this story. This story is a short romance between Ringo and Tessa. I wrote this mainly because I find that in the romance department of fan fictions, Ringo is sadly neglected. He's the cute little innocent one, used mainly for comedies. I just wanted to write a romance with Ringo as the main character for all the Ringo fans that feel the same way I do! Please enjoy the story!
(Disclaimer: I realize that I may be altering history in this story, but that's why it's called fan *fiction*. Please be tolerant!)
Ringo woke up with a sick feeling in his stomach. Standing up slowly, he walked to the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Morning, Punky," He said distractedly, giving his white cat a pat on the head. The cat meowed hungrily, and Ringo opened a can of tuna for his fuzzy companion.
Collapsing on the couch in the living room, he tried to remember why he felt so shitty.
Oh, god…Tessa.
Tessa had been his girl for over a year, and last night they'd fought for hours over the possibility of Ringo cheating on her. And he had been. She left his apartment sobbing, saying she never wanted to see him again. Ringo sighed deeply, regretting everything he had ever said or done to hurt her. He stared forlornly at the wall, at her picture hanging all alone on the blank surface. Tessa had shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that always held a secret. Her laugh was like the sound of a burbling creek, carefree and soft. How he longed to have her back, to hold her close to him.
Ringo stood up resolutely. He grabbed his scarf and overcoat, seeing as it was February and snowing lightly outside, and left his apartment in search of his lost love.
Pulling his car up outside her apartment, Ringo trudged up the stairs, his feet not cooperating as well as he would have liked; they felt like lead weights on his ankles. He stood outside her door, staring at the brass knocker perched on the door. He brought up one hand to knock, but couldn't bring himself to. With a half-sigh, half-sob, he sat down on the frozen steps, holding his chin in his hands.
Ringo didn't know how long he sat there, but the light faded from the sky, and he still sat, a frozen little bundle on Tessa's doorstep.
Suddenly, he heard the door open. Soft footsteps crunched in the snow, walking to his side. Ringo didn't open his eyes. He knew who it was.
"Rich?" Tessa's soft voice broke the holy silence, and Ringo brought up his heavy head. Seeing Tessa, standing there like an angel, dressed in a white sweater and tight white leather pants, he quickly stood up. "Tessa, I…"
Without another word, Tessa slapped him across the face hard with the back of her hand. Ringo stared at her blankly. "I deserved that." Tessa nodded, agreeing.
"That was for leaving." She stepped up to him, on tiptoe until they were nose to nose. She kissed him slowly, softly, and they wrapped their arms around each other. When they parted, Tessa smiled into his eyes. "And that was for coming back."
Ringo smiled, kissing her softly again, happy to have her back. "Does this mean you forgive me?"
"No." Ringo's heart dove into his stomach, and he felt like he was going to throw up.
"Wha…what?" He finally managed to stutter. Tessa laughed softly at his confusion, breaking away and returning to her apartment, motioning for Ringo to follow. He stepped into the warm, inviting room, taking off his scarf and overcoat. Tessa sat him down on the couch, handing him a cuppa while sipping one of her own. She snuggled up to him, laying her head on his chest.
"Rich," She began slowly, sipping her steaming tea slowly. "I don't think I can ever forgive you for what you've done to me."
Ringo nodded slowly, understanding. "Can I make it up to you?" He asked, softly stroking her hair. Tessa sighed contentedly, looking up to peer into his baby blue eyes.
"I think so." He kissed her softly, and she lay her head on his shoulder again. "You're getting there." She teased, sighing. Ringo laughed softly.
They sat in silence for a long time, watching the fire crackling in her fireplace. Tessa fell asleep on Ringo's shoulder, and he stroked her soft hair gently. It was now completely dark outside, save for the city lights that began blinking on over the city. Ringo gently lifted Tessa's head, standing up. She groaned softly, waking up. "Where do you think you're going?" She asked sleepily. Ringo knelt down next to the couch, his face close to hers. He kissed her gently, then stood up again.
"It's late. I have to go."
"You'll never make it. There's a storm outside. The roads will be full of ice." Ringo looked at her, a small smile on his lips.
"You knew, didn't you?" He asked softly. Tessa put on an innocent face, making Ringo laugh.
"Rich, please stay," Tessa begged gently, holding out her hand. Ringo folded his arms over his chest.
"On one condition."
"Shoot."
"If I can hold you all night long. I promise I won't…try anything…" He added quickly, making Tessa laugh her magical laugh. In the years they'd been dating, they'd never gone all the way. Tessa said she wasn't ready, and Ringo accepted that, happy just to be with her. Tessa smiled, nodding quietly. She stood up, stretching, and put the dishes away.
Snuggling together under the thick covers, Ringo held Tessa close to him, not wanting to let her go. He sighed into her hair, and she laughed softly and sleepily. Soon, Ringo too was deep asleep, content to have Tessa in his arms again.
[Author's note: At this point, the pov of the story changes to first; the speaker is Tessa. From here hence, Ringo is known most commonly as Rich.]
I woke up slowly, the sunlight streaming through my window and reflecting off the pure, white snow that covered the sleepy city. Stretching like a cat, I rolled over to wake up Rich…but he wasn't there. With a little grunt of disappointment, I remembered his early recording date in the studio. I stood up slowly, grabbing a towel and heading for the shower.
After a hot, relaxing shower, I'm wide awake, and wrapped in a soft, white towel I skip happily to the bureau. I planned on wearing my best outfit, hoping to surprise the boys at the studio. Or Rich at least. Pulling open the bottom drawer, I gasp.
Laying on top of my dull, every-day pairs of pants are the most beautiful jeans I have ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. I picked them up carefully, admiring the beautiful embroidery that adorns the bottom half of the legs, reaching from the hem to the knee. Slipping them on eagerly, not much of a thought as to their origin, I found them to be the perfect fit, tight and hip-hugging but not uncomfortably so. I tucked my slender hand into the pocket and my fingers happened upon a small piece of paper. Pulling it out curiously, I read the messy handwriting that could only be Rich's.
Would you, could you give me the pleasure of joining me for lunch this fine winter's day?
XOXO,
~Rich
P.S. Meet me at the studio ASAP…oh, and bring your violin.
Beaming, I tucked the paper into my back pocket, puzzling absently at the P.S. I opened the top drawer of my bureau, pulling out my favorite sweater. Slipping my arms into the sleeves, I encountered another piece of paper balled up in the sleeve. Unfolding it eagerly, I read as quickly as possible.
At this point, I'm gushing. He knows me far too well. That romantic bastard. Laughing softly to myself, I pulled on my favorite leather boots, not at all surprised to find another note tucked into the toe of the left boot.
Giggling with giddiness, I pranced to the kitchen, three wonderful notes tucked into my pocket to obsess over at a later date. A quick thought crossed my mind; am I forgiving and forgetting too fast? Dismissing that quickly, I smiled, getting a bowl out for a quick breakfast. As I poured myself a bowl of corn flakes, another note fell into my bowl.
I looked to the clock in confusion, gasping as I realized he's right. I scrambled to finish my breakfast, wondering how he could know I'm late. I shove this thought aside as I throw on my coat and grab my violin, racing to the car. As I jump in my blue Cadillac, I see another note folded over the steering wheel. I unfold it quickly, scanning the lines.
Melting, I turn the ignition and speed to the studio, thanking the Lord that no policemen were nearby. As I rush into the studio, I try to figure out whether I'm rushing to get to Rich, or that I'm late for a supposed recording that's going to take place. Wagering on the former, I flash my pass at the receptionist and burst into Studio Seven at Abbey Road.
Once inside, I ignore the three pairs of puzzled eyes and throw myself into Rich's arms, hugging him tightly. He laughs softly, and I bury my nose in his soft white sweater.
"Morning, Tessa…" George says, sounding confused. I laugh, breaking away from Rich slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry! Good morning, boys. I'm sorry I'm late…" I trail off, looking into Rich's eyes. "But I think you knew I would be anyway…"
John coughs, breaking the silence. I laugh sheepishly again as Rich helps me with my overcoat. I notice John admiring my jeans, and he smiles at me.
"Gear jeans, luv," He said, not noticing the disapproving looks Rich was giving him. I stifled a laugh and sat down in a metal chair, not taking my eyes off Rich.
"So what's the deal?" I asked, more to Rich than the others, but Paul answered anyway.
"Ringo, our most brilliant lad here, has written a masterpiece and we're in need of a violin," Paul explained, tuning his bass gently.
"And who better than the best in all of London?" Rich added, smiling warmly. I felt redness creep up my neck.
"Flattery gets you nowhere, Rich."
"Shall we begin?" John asked eagerly, hoisting his guitar. The rest of us agreed, and I was shown the music to a lovely little song called "Don't Pass Me By". We played for hours, until my fingers practically bled on the strings. Rich noticed my tentative grip on the neck and opted for a break. The other three readily agreed, and Rich took this opportunity to take me by the hand and leave the studio for a bit of privacy.
In the cool air of late-night London, we walked about half a block, chatting idly about anything and everything. Rich slung his arm over my shoulder as I started to shiver in the fading light, and we walked in each other's company for a little while longer.
"Rich…what you did this morning was very sweet," I said quietly, the two of us stopping to gaze into each other's eyes. He smiled warmly, wrapping me in a tight embrace. I sighed, smelling his cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke.
"Thanks, Tess," He whispered into my hair, kissing my neck. "I'm trying so hard to make up for all the wrong I've done you," Rich said seriously, trying to read my facial expression. "I never meant to hurt you."
I nodded slowly, allowing a hint of sadness creep into my voice. "I know you didn't, Rich, but you did." I looked down, trying to avoid the hurt in his baby blue eyes. Rich sighed quietly, hugging me tight.
"I know, love, I know…I'm trying so hard…" He trailed off, but I knew what he was thinking. We stood there for a moment, neither talking, wrapped in a warm embrace. He pulled away slightly, trying again to read my thoughts through my deep blue eyes. I smiled weakly, struggling to hold back frustrated tears. Rich's face fell, and he kissed my forehead softly, hugging me close again. I squeezed back the tears, knowing that we would have to return to the studio and I needn't show weak eyes to the rest of the boys. I was Tessa, strong Tessa who was bothered by nothing. How I wished it were true.
I leaned back slightly, losing myself in Rich's blue eyes. He leaned in and we kissed softly, a silent mutual truce of love. We parted and he smiled, I for once returning the smile. With mock-grandeur, Rich knelt, holding out his hand. "Tessa, my beloved Tessa, whilst thou grace my poor soul with thy holy presence at dinner this fine London evening?" He paused. "I suppose lunch is out of the question…" He added, smiling and nodding at the stars in the darkening sky. I smiled, laying my hand on his.
"But of course, Monsignor. I would be most delighted." With a quick glance to see if anyone was looking, I placed my booted foot on his knee, giving him a playful shove. Surprised, Rich jolted backwards, but he never let go of my hand. With a far too loud yelp, I collapsed in a giggling heap on the pavement. He sat up, scooping me into his lap as if I were a little girl. Rich gave me a kiss, and then we got up slowly as passersby began to stare. With that, we headed back towards the studio, Rich with his arm over my shoulders and me with my head resting in the crook of his arm.
When we entered the studio arms entwined, the other three gave us funny looks, John wiggling his eyebrows wickedly. We tactfully ignored them, returning to our instruments and getting prepared to play take 5,000 of "Don't Pass Me By".
"We're done! We're done we're done we're done!" John cried, jumping up and doing a little ditty. The rest of us laughed, cheering that we'd finally achieved a perfect take of Don't Pass Me By. Rich sprung to my side, picking me up by the waist and whirling me through the air. I laughed giddily, getting far too dizzy. John and Paul started dancing, dosido-ing and hooting loudly. George grabbed his acoustic and started playing a quick country song for the dancing "couple".
Rich finally put me down after I threatened to throw up on him, and with his hand on the small of my back, leaned me backwards until my hair brushed the floor, kissing me long and hard. The others stopped what they were doing, whistling loudly and laughing. Just for show and for fun, Rich refused to let me go, despite the fact I was about to burst out laughing.
George jumped up to the microphone, pulling it off the stand. "Aaaand welcome to the Indy 5000! This is your most wonderful and dashing host, George Harrison to give you all the details of this most…exciting race. This is the ultimate show of endurance as the contestants go head to head! It appears that the odds-on favorite, Ringo, is in the lead with the stunning upset of Tessa in a very close second, but things may turnover at any moment…" He shouted into the mike. I could hear the techies in he booth snickering, John and Paul whistling though their teeth and cheering.
Suddenly, my boot slipped on the smooth linoleum floor and I almost fell flat on my back, but Rich kept a steady hold on me, my arms wrapped around his neck. "Woah! Tessa had a minor slip up, but seems to be keeping up well! In the end, it all whittles down to the breathing technique and the practice and training of the ending champion…"
At this point John and Paul were in hysterics, and even Rich was having trouble keeping a straight face. George's deep announcer's voice dissolved until he was giggling uncontrollably. Rich finally released me, grinning madly, his blue eyes sparkling. I smiled back, laughing quietly. "And it's all over!! The end! Ringo has pulled out of the running, leaving Tessa the tried and true champion!"
I stood up and took a few bows to thunderous applause from the boys and the guys in the booth. Rich laughed, snaking his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. Seeing us getting all romantic, the boys lost interest and started packing up their guitars. Rich carefully put up his drums for the night as I gently lay my treasured violin in its wooden case.
The five of us walked out into the cool, frosty air of the back parking lot, the way illuminated only by a sprinkling of tall fluorescent lamps. "God, Patty's going to kill me," George sighed, inspecting his watch. Paul had an overdue date with Jane, and John had a wife and son to attend to. Everyone got into their cars and left Rich and me standing in the lonely parking lot.
I started to walk to my car, but he grabbed my wrist gently. "Ah ah, we have a date, my dear," Rich said softly, pulling me closer. I smiled at him.
"Wonderful, Rich, but I think I ought to go…primp." I replied, for lack of a more flattering word. Rich laughed, giving me a quick hug. "Pick you up at eight?"
I smiled. "Deal."
