Promise (Georgenotfoundxreader)

/𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒/

George's Pov

My eyes fluttered open as I saw the image I wish I could see for the rest of my life. She lay peacefully against the pillow, her hair messily sprawled out over her face. The blanket was tucked closely to her chin, snuggling cutely as her breath slowed at a steady pace.

I ran my fingers through her hair softly, brushing it out from her face. I could now see her pretty eyelashes close against her soft skin. With a swift movement I leaned close and kissed her lightly on the forehead before getting out from the covers and sliding my sweatpants on which were on the ground.

My legs tiredly carried me across the room, making sure to step over her articles of clothing. I figured our clothes from yesterday were now done in the dryer so folding them and putting them away before Y/n wakes up would hopefully bring a smile to her face.

I stepped down the stairs carefully, trying not to make that much noise considering it was around 8am.

Next part references events from last chapter so if you skipped it, you most likely will not understand this bit

As I entered the kitchen, the knife from last night lay on the counter. I picked it up carefully in my hands, gazing at my reflection of the sharp blade which held ungodly memories.

Her hands, tangled up with mine against the sheets. Her voice, so soft that any word that came out felt like sweet honey. I remember the taste of strawberry lingering in the seam of her lips, waiting to be explored.

A small grin creeped up on my lips but I quickly pushed the thought away and tossed it in the sink with a loud clutter. Tiny droplets of water pooled at the bottom of the sink, holding the shiny blade captive in the reflective liquid.

Okay reference over

I knelt down in front of the dryer, pulling each article of clothing out and sorting her clothes in a separate basket from mine.

I held her T shirt in my hands, hesitating on which way I should fold. Just fold it like paper? is there a special way I need to do it? What about the sleeves of the shirt?

After many minutes of me sitting on the couch, a heap of clothes to each side and a single piece of clothing in my hands, I eventually gave up on trying to fold them neatly.

I just did it the way my grandmother taught me; lay it flat on the ground, tuck the sleeves in the middle, and fold it from there. It was a longer process but it got the job done. I felt like a little kid again, kneeling down on the ground folding clothes as my grandma watched over me, cheering me on. She was always there for me when my parents had to go to another work trip which lasted for weeks on end. But ever since she passed, I've spent more time inside, away from everyone. Ever since I was 11 i've been home alone often. One of the last normal conversation I had with my grandmother was when she promised she would teach me how to cook and do the laundry and do even more that would get me far in life, but she was diagnosed with cancer and lost her fight before she could.

I quickly snapped out of my trance and noticed I was already done folding all of the clothes. I neatly put hers in a basket as well as mine and hoisted them up the stairs towards the bedroom. As I expected, she was still sound asleep. Her lips protruded with her cheek smushed up against the pillow. I smiled lightly to myself and placed her basket near the side of the bed quietly, still making sure not to wake her.

"Mm, George.." She hummed quietly, her eyes still closed.

I hummed in response, turning back towards the bed and kneeling down next to her.