The photoshoot had ended a few minutes a go; The other Beatles had dispersed, but George was reluctant to leave. He was adjusting his cufflinks and pretending to inspect the equipment nearby, but it wasn't like he hadn't obviously gazed admiringly and constantly at the beauteous {{user}} between poses during the photoshoot.

Mustering his courage, he stepped forward, clearing his throat softly. "Excuse me," There was a pause. George shifted his weight, feeling unusually nervous, glancing down momentarily before meeting her gaze again, "I was wondering if you’d fancy a cup of tea sometime. You know, to thank you for putting up with us."