Blue || GeorgeNotFound x Reader

Chapter Seventeen

I woke up with my face pressed against the cold tiles, the quiet drip of the bathroom tap bounced from each wall as I sat up. Running my hands through my hair, I let out a deep exhale as I attempted to shield my eyes from the sun that escaped through the window. 

In an attempt to alleviate the sharp pain behind my eyes, I rubbed my fingers firmly against my temple. Every muscle in my body ached, each breath would painfully catch in my throat due to its dryness. My breath lingered with regret and alcohol induced sickness. 

"Oh you're finally awake, you look like shit" Sapnap chuckled through the phone. I glanced down at the floor, scowling at him. He was sat at his desk, the glare from his computer screen illuminating his features. 

"Why are you awake?" I questioned, remembering the time difference between England and Texas. I grabbed my phone and pulled myself up from the floor, balancing myself with the sink. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay" he smiled, stifling a yawn. 

Pulling my toothbrush out of its holder, I placed my phone against the mirror so that Nick and I could see each other. Leaning one hand against the sink, I placed the toothbrush in my mouth and attempted to brush the stench of alcohol off my tongue. 

Shaking my head with a quiet chuckle, I smiled at him. "You should go to sleep, nick" I suggested, earning a nod from him. 

"Goodnight Y/N" he said before ending the call. 

I dragged my feet against the carpet as I made my way to my bedroom, smiling at the the sight of my bed being empty. Before shoving my face into my pillow, I plugged my phone in. After a few seconds of blissful silence, my door creaked open. 

Snapping my head to the direction of the door, Wilbur was stood there with a plate in his hand. His hair was disheveled and dark circles graced his eyes. "I made you breakfast" he mumbled, his voice was hoarse and he was equally as hungover as I was. 

As I grabbed the plate from him with a thankful smile, he placed a box of paracetamols on the desk beside me. I managed to mumble a quiet thank you as I took a bite out of the food. Wilbur sat himself beside me on my bed, resting his head against the headboard with a deep exhale. 

We sat in comfortable silence as I finished my food, Wilbur scrolled quietly through twitter, turning his phone towards me every so often to show me videos. 

Wilbur moved slightly, his eyebrows knitted together. Reaching his hand under one of my pillows, he pulled a book from underneath it. "What's this?" he questioned, opening it before I had the chance to stop him. 

"George" is all that I could say as I watched him flip through the pages, reading a few of the underlined words. 

"You keep this under your pillow?" He quirked an eyebrow at me as he placed it back where he found it. 

I nodded slightly, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "I like to read it before I go to sleep" I mumbled, placing the empty plate on the desk. "I thought it was a really cute way for him to tell me he likes me but-" a shaky breath escaped my lips before I could finish my sentence, "now he hates me and I don't know why". 

Wilbur hummed quietly, clearly unsure on how he should reply. "Where is George?" I questioned, suddenly noticing his absence. 

"He said that there was no milk so he went to the shop" Wilbur replied. Running my hands through my hair, I scrunched my eyes shut as a sharp pain appeared behind my eyes. I grabbed the paracetamol from the side, letting out a frustrated sigh as I realised that I didn't have a drink to take them with. 

Pushing myself off my bed, I grabbed the painkillers and the plate and made my way to the kitchen. I placed the plate in the sink before opening the fridge. I scrunched my face slightly at the bright light from the open fridge before placing my hand on my chin and scanning the contents. A frown placed itself on my lips when I noticed the full carton of milk that sat in the door. 

Bringing my lip between my teeth, I sighed before grabbing a bottle of water and taking the paracetamol. 

I didn't want to disturb Wilbur so I made my way to the couch and lay across it, pulling a blanket over myself. Just before I fell asleep, I heard George come home. I wasn't in the right state to confront him about his whereabouts so I decided to ignore his presence. 

My nap was disturbed by something being thrown over the top of me. As I opened my eyes, I was greeted with George stood over the top of me. His lips were pressed into a straight line and he had his hands on his hips, seemingly agitated. 

I stared down at the absurd amount of plastic bags and packaging that was beside me on the couch and restricting the movement of my legs. "I bought you a bunch of hoodies last week, they just got delivered" he said, his tone was cold and his expression was laced with blandness. 

He walked away before I could even thank him, leaving me to open everything on my own. I scooped it all up in my arms and made my way to my bedroom, knowing that Wilbur would be more supportive. 

Wilbur and I spent the next hour doing a fashion show, we took videos of each other modelling the hoodies and posted a few on twitter. George had bought me at least 20 hoodies and jumpers, it was crazy. 

My door flung open, interrupting the catwalk I was doing with a silly pout planted on my face. "You forgot one, Y/N" George said as he handed a hoodie to me, his tone was softer and his eyes held a kindness that I hadn't seen all week. 

I mumbled a quiet thank you as I examined the all black hoodie. A little ladybird was embroidered onto the front of it, matching the red drawstrings. I pulled it over my head, my muscles relaxing at the soft touch of the fabric. 

My eyes fell onto the sleeve, tears instantly prickling the corners of my eyes. The words "I love you, little bug" were messily sewed into the sleeve with red thread. Wilbur stepped towards me, grabbing my arm an examining the sleeve. He quietly repeated the words to himself in a questioning tone. 

"So this is why George was asking me how to sew last week." he mumbled to himself, barely loud enough to be audible. 

"My dad used to say that to me"  I whispered, running my finger across the words. My eyes moved to the door, only to see that George was no longer there. With a sympathetic smile, Wilbur pulled me into a tight hug. 

"He's emotionally draining me, Wilbur. I don't understand him" I mumbled into his chest as he calmingly rubbed circles on my back. "20 years of friendship and this is the first time I don't understand how he feels. I can usually read him like a book, I hate it". 

"You two need to talk" he whispered as he rubbed the sleeve of his jumper across my cheeks.