rooftops

chapter 31 ~ jumper

• mature language

Georges pov=

Tommy didnt ask questions when I got back, it was almost like he knew not to.

He let me go straight to the spare room, no questions asked. I got back to the house at around 2am, praying that they were both home.

Thankfully they were. Tommy had brought me upstairs and helped me put covers on the bed.

Tubbo didnt wake up, so we both agreed on just telling him tomorrow morning.

"Am I allowed to ask questions?" he finally asks, sitting at the desk in the room.

"Its a long story, and its late" I reply, unpacking my stuff.

"Im hardly going back asleep now" he pesters, swinging around in the spinny chair.

When I dont respond, he continues on with his questions as I fold my clothes, hanging them up into the wardrobe.

"Why are you back alone? Wheres your boyfriend?" he questions, his voice going higher as he drags out the word 'boyfriend'.

I slam the suitcase shut, startling Tommy.

I didnt mean to scare him, I guess he just hadnt been expecting it.

I leave the wardrobe, collapsing down into the bed.

"What?" Tommy asks, coming to sit down beside me, unaware hes done anything wrong.

I know hes going to find out sooner than later, and id rather it were sooner.

"We broke up" I admit.

His head turns, his expression gone sarcastic.

"Yeah, okay" he scoffs.

"What?"

"Why would you break up? You two were literally-" he begins, but never finishes.

I watch as some sort of realization starts to dawn on him. I wonder what made him look serious all of a sudden.

"He told you, didnt he?" he whispers.

I sit up, staring at him accusingly.

"You knew?" I shoot.

He doesnt respond, he just turns his back to me, facing towards the wardrobe.

I stand up and head around to the side of the bed where hes sat, standing in front of him.

"You knew and you didnt tell me?"

"It wasnt my place" he tries reasoning.

"You're meant to have my back, you know I wouldve told you if it were me" I reply, my voice growing louder.

"Shut up! Youll wake Tubbo" he hisses, standing up.

I glare at him before I drop back down onto the edge of the bed.

"Why didnt you tell me? We couldve avoided everything that happened" I tell him.

"Yeah, what happened is my question" he asks, sitting back down beside me.

"Im not telling you, im mad at you"

"George, grow up"

"Youre younger than me"

"At least I act older"

I let out a laugh at that comment, but it only gains me a whack to the forehead.

"Seriously, tell me what happened" he says.

The more I think about what happened, the more I question if ive made the right decision in coming back home.