The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 15 - Quick Friends

Without actually asking if I want to stay at his house, George turns on the engine and drives in that direction anyway. When we arrive outside, he parks the car in silence before getting out of the vehicle. For a quick second, I'm hesitant to do the same but then I remind myself that I let him bring me here. So I get out of the car and follow him silently inside. Once I take my shoes off, I inhale the overwhelming smell of George and I can't help but embrace it all.

I settle comfortably on the familiar couch while he takes the other and switches the television on. The news pops up and their main focus is the current storm. It had taken us almost double the time to get home since George was being extra cautious in the snow. Not only was it falling badly and therefore his vision was impaired but the ground was also getting real deep. If this was just the beginning, who knew how deep it would actually get? My eyes slide over to the window where I can see the snow fall has increased. My hands reach into my pocket to pull out my phone so I can message dad. My father is the top contact in my messages (which is rather sad) making it easy to type and fill him in.

We got sent home from school early because of the storm (like you said). I hope they didn't wake you up? Or are you in work?

A few minutes go by as George comments on the storm and the news before my phone BINGS!

George's voice interrupts my amusement at the very parental text on the screen, "Who's that? Dad?"

Looking up, I see him watching me intently, "Yeah, he's freaking out because I haven't eaten properly since Sunday. He's in work."

If possible, George looks worried. If possible. His eyes narrow to slits as his eyebrows furrow. There's a little annoyance in the look he throws my way as he gets up from his seat. What? I was sick.

"What the hell Luna?" He questions, "Why didn't you say that in the car?"

My eyes widen slightly at his accusing tone, "What are you talking about?"

George ignores my question and walks towards the living room door, "I'm making food."

With that, he leaves me in the living room not having asked me what I fancy or if I'm even hungry. What if I throw up and the cycle begins again? I don't think I can do another week in that state. I roll my eyes at his bossy behaviour but decide to let him carry on doing whatever he wants as I reach for the remote to turn Friends on. The couch's warmth engulfs me, encouraging me to get comfy, as I lay down with my head resting on the arm. As the episode goes on, I get a whiff of the lovely smell coming from the kitchen and, for the first time in a couple of days, I'm excited to eat whatever George is making. I wonder what it is... hopefully nothing too heavy. As I go over all of the possibilities, I feel my eyes drift close. Maybe for just a couple of minutes.

Someone shaking my shoulder interrupts my very comfortable sleep and the smell of food invades my senses. My tired eyes flicker open to see George taking his seat on the other couch and placing his plate on the arm. Stretching, I sit up and excitedly pick the plate up onto my lap. Mm. George has made pasta, a small portion, with veggies and a tomato sauce. I don't fight the small smile that tugs at my lips when I swallow the first bite. Okay, this was good. However, I'm careful, waiting, incase the sickness appears but the urge to throw up doesn't arrive. An even bigger smile grows as I come to finish the plate, thank George, and take it to the dishwasher. I'm very thankful that he didn't listen to anything I said and proceeded to make some food. I definitely feel more energised now. While I'm in the kitchen, I make us both a drink and wonder about George once again. So, he can cook, he's kind, he's charming, and a good friend but he's also a mystery, dangerous, and intimidating. Admittedly I still had many, many questions about his life but I'm choosing to respect his privacy on the matter.