Chapter 24 - Photographs and Protectiveness

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A little filler chapter... 

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"Oh for goodness sakes," I huff, "Keep still!"

George has the utter nerve to roll his eyes at me, knowing full well that I can see him through the lens, "You know that's not a professional camera, right sweetheart?"

Without lifting my eyes from the camera, I scoff. "If it was, I'd have a better - more cooperative - model in front of me."

"Better?" He sounds deadly and I watch a dark glint appear in his eyes, "I am the best model, Luna. And I better be the only male model you use that camera with."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes as I keep them trained on the boy in front of me. George is sitting, looking rather relaxed if not a little tense, on the bed with my book in his hands. He had lifted it to examine what I was reading at the moment (or, in his words what's taking my attention away from him) just over ten minutes ago. The minute his face relaxed and his eyes zoned in on the paper, I saw the perfect opportunity to take my first pictures on my new camera. Obviously, because it's George, he had decided that he was no longer absolutely photogenic and wouldn't cooperate for the impromptu photoshoot. Even with the locked jaw, he still looked... stunning.

"Honey, please."

Instantly, his eyes soften at the term and my pouting tone. Smirking internally, I lodge the helpful information in my brain for the future. I know I'll need to pull that one out again. Returning my focus to the lens, I see he's laying in the perfect position looking completely calm and I SNAP. There, evidence of George reading. Keeping my eyes squinted through the lens, I watch as my best friend moves to get up from the bed and making his way closer to the lens.

I realise where he's headed all too late. My focus had been on those eyes, that lip, and the movement.

George picks me up off the floor, throwing my body easily over his shoulder as I squeal childishly. His other arm, the one not sliding up my thigh - too close to my bottom - to hold me in my position, swings the bed covers over to leave room for our bodies. Once we are situated on the bed, George pulls the blanket back over us so that it comes up to our necks. His arms pull me close, as close as we are when we fall asleep together, body to body.

The shy look that appears on George's face nearly has me cooing. It's not an expression I'm used to seeing on him but it's one I'm personally very familiar with. Honey. Smiling softly, I proceed with his wishes. Out foreheads rest. Against each other as we face the lens I've raised above our heads. With a flash of bright light, a small polaroid leaves the top of the camera. As we wait for the image to develop, I feel a hot breath on my cheek which causes a tickling but familiar feeling to run up my skin. As a small burst of laughter escapes my mouth at the sensation, I press the button again. I'm preoccupied with my laughter and the cute images developing on our lap, I barely notice George's strong hand slip over my cheek to move my head in his direction. Now, we are forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and if either of us moved a few centimetres we would be lip to lip. My finger clicks the button on the camera as we keep our eyes trained on each other. My eyes are flickering all over his very-close face while his stay steady on mine. Once the polaroid drops from the camera, neither of us chooses to move.

"What does this best friend thing entail, exactly?" George's voice is soft and a small smile fight its way to my face at his comment.

My voice is full of innocence as I reply, "You don't know?" He shakes his head, so I continue my teasing, "Well, what does your friendship with your boys entail?"

His eyes narrow at my question, "I don't want to play basketball or pick you up from random hookups, sweetheart."

My lips quirk, "Random hookups, you say?" George's arm on my face pinches my ear lobe as I giggle. "Whatever you want, really." Is all I offer to his original question.

"Now we're talking!" He's thrilled with himself, "Okay—"

My giggle grows into a laughter that cuts him off. He cannot hold his own laughter back either. Once we both calm down, we sit in a comfortable silence with our faces a little further apart. For a little while, we sit in post-laughter bliss in silence just basking in our shared happiness. For a little while, we pretend that our friendship isn't taking a turn.

"Sweetheart?"

My head turns to his, "Mmm?"

"What if," he pauses, reading the room, "I got a girlfriend?"

Gosh, he is full of questions today. In some ways, it's welcomed because it means he's relaxed with me and he's speaking his mind. Somewhere deep, deep down in my mind, the question stings. What if he got a girlfriend? Another girl? I mean, girls are great. He should definitely... have a girlfriend. Or more girl friends. Girls are amazing. But one being intimately with George? Surely, that meant things with us would have to change. I obviously didn't know a whole lot about relationships or friendships but I know I wouldn't be happy with my boyfriend spending all day and night with another woman. Sharing a bed, sharing clothes, and sharing their time.

I decide to answer his question with a question to buy some time and to divert the question away from me, "Well, are you interested in someone?"

He nods with a confident look on his face, "Very interested."

Again, somewhere inside me (somewhere I'm ignoring) there is this coldness that appears.

"What if I got a boyfriend?"

George exhales and closes his eyes, "Not going to happen."

Not going to happen. Of course he didn't think I could get a boyfriend. I could barely get a friend, never mind a boyfriend. Of course he didn't think anyone would want me. I bet he wondered if I would be capable of being intimate with anyone. I mean, I randomly cry, I push people away, and I have more secrets than stories... he must think I'm crazy. So, no wonder he thinks it's not going to happen. Plus, he was hungry for attention. I doubt he could deal with sharing my time with someone else.

"Why not?" I mumble.

His eyes open to burn through mine, "I feel this very overwhelming need to protect you. It's captivating and all consuming."

The heat in his words, his hands, and his eyes makes me flush. Okay, this was taking a definite turn. My breathing picks up as I look for a way out of this conversation.

"I think we should cross those bridges when we come to them."

While I'm concentrating on my breathing, his has picked up as well. "We won't come to that bridge."

The tone and dominance in his voice takes me back to the day he locked us in a cupboard. In a second, that George is gone. The heat and familiarity takes over while he overwhelms my senses making sure we are as close as humanly possible.

"For now," he pauses, "we are just... just very much each others. Okay?"

I know that's not a question despite the interrogative tone he uses. George is seeking reassurance, he's seeking approval, and my nod affirms his thoughts. I feel my shoulders drop as my worries leave my body. Today, we are very much each others. 

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This chapter is a little filler one in preparation for the long one that awaits! I'm currently re-writing it so it'll probably be up tomorrow. 

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