The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 28 - New Years and New Feelings

When George eyes the skirt I'm wearing, his lips tilt up to form an almost-smirk. I want to roll my eyes at the cheekiness that invades his expression but hold myself back. I know that, if I bit back, he'd get the attention he so wanted.

"Something wrong, George?"

Like his lips, his head tilts as he considers my nonchalant attitude, "Nope. Nope. Absolutely nothing wrong."

I nod, tidying up his living room to avoid his eyes, "Glad to hear it."

"Sweetheart?"

Stopping my fuss, I immediately look over at the now-smiling boy, "Hm?"

George takes a step closer, slipping his hands into his front pockets, before softly saying, "You look great."

The girl in me that rolls her eyes and bites back at his comments should appear - I want her to - but, instead, I am left with a flushed, gaping like a fish, speechless girl. George can be very, very hands on and abrupt but I wasn't sure I was used to hearing him sound so... soft. Genuine.

"Mm," I make a noncommittal sound, "You look... fine."

It's my attempt to lessen my embarrassment but I realise how childish it sounds seconds after. He grins in response, making a move to grab me but is interrupted by the opening door. The house is instantly filled with conversation, laughter, and more people than I expected. As I watch the group make their way to us, George's hands grip my waist to bring us closer.

"Jesus Christ, George," Lewis teases, "You can let the girl go. She's not going to run off."

Elliot chuckles at that, messing my hair up before going to put his bags in the kitchen. Leaving them to entertain themselves, I follow him out to help with setting up. I thought we had a lot of drinks before but now that I'm seeing how much these guys brought... I'm glad I won't need to walk far to get to bed tonight. I've realised that a gathering isn't really a gathering when everyone you invite, invites someone else. Maybe that's why I've escaped to the kitchen. The boys had brought other boys, ones I'd never met before, and a few girls. I needed a moment to settle, a moment to get a grip on myself. 

"Shot?" Elliot is already filling up two shot glasses, "For courage."

Smiling, I nod. "Aren't you going to ask everyone?"

When I reach him, Elliot puts his hand on my shoulder to give me a little shake. "I think we need this one. They can catch up later."

So, ten people turned into fifteen. Fifteen turned into twenty. And twenty turned into thirty. If I was used to parties, I would say this was the perfect size. Not too crowded, not too many groups, but not too small and uneventful. For the first few hours, I know I'm quieter than usual. I'm sussing everyone out, getting a feel of the group, while keeping a distance from a grumpy looking George. I didn't want everyone to think I was just relying on him, hanging on to his side, even though that's exactly where I wanted to be. If his stares (mostly glares) tell me anything, it's exactly where he wants me to be as well.

Lewis, Elliot and I are chatting in the kitchen when George reappears. Since I'm standing next to Lewis, I hear his quiet scoff at the look on our friend's face. It's enough to make me blatantly grin.

"Enjoying, mate?" Elliot asks, not picking up on George's sour attitude. Or maybe he has and just doesn't care, "Shot?"

I'm momentarily distracted from my grumpy guy as I realise how many times Elliot has done a shot. I think back to the last party and attempt to compare the amount he drank then to the amount he's downing now. However, I'm too tipsy to come to any real conclusion so I store the information in my brain for a more sober time.