George Imagine:

The sweet, melodic tune emitting from the vinyl pooled the living room, the slow music swaying into the midst of night. Lights were dimmed to a tinge of dark yellow, the glow of the two figures sitting on the carpet now darkened shadows.

George closed his eyes, bobbing his head slightly to the music of Frank Sinatra, with you seated behind him, your back against his.

"Some day when I'm awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you and the way you look tonight," he sang softly. "It's our song, Y/N. Remember? The first song we ever danced to."

George leaned just head back so the back of it rested gently on your shoulder. How he loved your touch... But he so dearly missed your voice. Why won't you speak to him?

"You're lovely, with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you and the way you look tonight," he continued, his smile faltering slightly. "Sing with me, darling. You love this song, don't you?"

You didn't respond. George reached behind him and took hold of your cold hand. Were you sad?

"We'll be dancing to this on our wedding too," he said quietly. "I can't wait to see you in your dress... You'll look like an angel. Well, you always look like one."

He turned his head to smile at you, but still, you did not speak. You didn't even look at him.

"Y/N," he frowned, squeezing your hand affectionately. "Why won't you talk to me anymore? It's been so long since I've heard your voice. Have I done something wrong?"

No reply.

"I've been racking my brain for a month now," George pleaded, eyes screwed shut. "I can't figure it out... I really don't know what's going on, Y/N. Please, just... just tell me. I'm scared to lose you. I can't lose you... I love you."

"George?"

George's eyes snapped open at the sudden voice ringing by the front door. He blinked to clear his vision and lifted his head back up, turning to face Ringo, who had appeared by the entrance to the living room.

"There you are," Ringo sighed, grinning in greeting at the younger man. "I tried calling you, mate. No one answered. You're late for practice."

"Oh," George sheepishly chuckled. "Sorry about that. Got caught up with things."

"What're you doing on the floor? And what's with the song?" Ringo asked curiously.

"Nothing," George said with a shrug. "Just listening to this with Y/N. Talking about the wedding and all that."

The smile on the drummer's face slowly faded, morphing into... pity?

"George," he said softly. "Mate, Y/N's not here anymore. She... she died last month, remember?"

George gazed at Ringo, then a split second later, turned his frame around to glance behind him.

You weren't there.

What George had been holding on to, what he thought was your hand, was simply a couch pillow.

That's right... You did die. A car accident. You had just bought your wedding gown and were going to take it to Cynthia for her to hide until the big day... and then a truck had crashed into your car. You had died on impact.

And today... today was supposed to be your wedding day.

George stared blankly at the empty space behind him as he fully comprehended just what had happened.

"Geo?" Ringo said worriedly. "Are you alright?"

Clearing his throat, George stood up and faced his friend. "Let's go," he muttered, sweeping past Ringo to grab his things.

I stay up all night,
Tell myself I'm alright,
Baby, you're just harder
To see than most
I put the record on,
Wait 'til I hear our song,
Every night I'm dancing
With your ghost

Man it's been awhile! Sorry, very much caught up with studies and still am but I really wanted to write this one :)
Songs: The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra (originally sang by Fred Astaire) and Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan.