George Imagine:

It was seven in the evening and you were exhausted. You'd had such a crazed day at your work at the restaurant, and your fellow waiters weren't much help - a lot of them were kind of useless, so you had to take on most of the tables. You'd been running around the whole day. Now that you were home, you just wanted to curl up on your couch and watch a good Disney movie.

You'd gotten into your sweats and an oversized fuzzy sweater before searching for your favourite Disney movie. You had water set to boil on the stove for your tea and your soft blanket draped over your shoulders. But just as you were about to settle down to watch the movie, the doorbell to your home chimed throughout the halls.

Wincing at the sudden noise and groaning, you threw the blanket off of you, pressed pause, and headed to the front door. You pulled the door open, revealing your boyfriend of three months, George.

"Hey love," he greeted with his mesmerizing smile.

"George!" you squeaked, your cheeks dusting with deep pink. You felt kind of embarrassed, standing before him with baggy sweats and a sweater. "What're your doing here?"

"Heard you had a tough day today," he responded, chuckling at your flushed cheeks. "Thought you might like some company. Can I come in? It's a bit crisp out here, y'know."

"Oh... oh, right, of course," you said with a small smile, stepping aside to allow George in. "I was about to watch a Disney movie. And I have tea on the stove. Would you like a cup?"

"Sounds grand!" George grinned. "I'll give you a hand."

"It's just tea, George, it'll take me two minutes," you chuckled. He shrugged and followed you into the kitchen anyway.

"So tell me about this rough day of yours. Who do we hate and why?" he questioned as you pulled the boiling kettle off the stove.

"Oh, you remember that one girl, Elizabeth? Well..."

As George listened to you rant about the terrible waitress, Elizabeth, he tilted his head to look at you. Really look at you.

It hadn't been very long since you two had started dating. You were always dressed in your nicest clothes. Lovely blouses and skirts, tints of makeup done, your hair tied in a cute braid... George loved your style, loved that you worked to make yourself look nice just for him.

Now, you were encased in a big sweater that seemed to bear hug you and sweatpants. Your hair was not in a braid, but flowed behind you in a river of tangled strands. You weren't wearing makeup. All he could see was every detail of your face. Every eyelash, every curl, every tiny detail.

In this moment, standing in your kitchen, George thought you never looked more beautiful in your natural glory. He loved your tousled hair, your baggy clothes, and your face... your adorable face with no hint of makeup. How come he never noticed before?

"George?" you called, waving your hand in front of his face.

"Hm?" George blinked away from his thoughts.

"I asked how your day was, but you haven't said a word on three minutes," you said with a raised eyebrow, looking kind of indignant. "What're you thinking about? Were you even listening to me?"

"Oh," he scratched the back of his head with a sheepish chuckle. "Sorry, love. I was just thinking... I've never seen you like this before. You know, without all the makeup and the fancy attires."

"Oh..." you said quietly, looking down at yourself and biting your lower lip. "Should I... go change?"

"No, no," George said quickly. "That's not what I mean! I mean, it's just... I've never realized how beautiful you are without all that. You've got natural beauty. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you, I was just... admiring you and thinking how lucky I am to be with someone so beautiful."

Your face was tinted several shades of red. You brought your hands up to your cheeks to cover them, unable to contain the smile curling on your lips. George inched closer to you and took your hands away with a grin - he loved your face, he didn't want you to cover it.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips on your softly, threading his fingers through your hair while his other hand rested under your chin. You leaned into him, humming against his lips and smiling.

"Now, then... I believe we have a movie to watch. Shall we curl up on the couch?"

"George Harrison," you said with a chuckle. "You, sir, are a special man."

Hello hello! It's been awhile! How's it going? It's almost Christmas! :)
I have a Paul imagine in the making too, but it's quite angsty and will come with a trigger warning. It's also very lengthy, I'm not too sure if I'm gonna publish it yet but I very well might!