Unlonely Nights- GeorgeNotFound x OC

Chapter 3

"Excuse me miss, but I think you forgot your jacket." George grinned towards me. I gave a little scoff and waved him off, going to stand at my spot on the viewpoint. It was 12:42, a little later than when I usually arrive, so I wasn't surprised when I saw that he was there before me. If it was anyone else, I would've gotten jealous. But since this man acknowledged that this spot and activity was mine mainly to cherish, I didn't have that worry.

"Jacket?" I asked, pretending to be unaware. "I think you've got the wrong person George. I don't know anyone who has such a jacket other than you."

"So I can wear this then?"

"Why are you asking me permission to wear YOUR clothes?" I asked, clicking my tongue. Today, the moon was not present and the water did seem more dull than it usually was. I'm glad that I had company to fill in for new moon days.

"Oh that's a good point," the British man nodded, slipping thin arms into the holes of the jacket. "But you dictate a lot more of my life than you might think."

That caught my attention. "I'm simply a girl you come to talk to during the night. I'm an equivalent to a dream at this point, how in the world do I have an impact on your important life?" I ask.

"You're the only reason I want to leave my house, you're the only one who provides me with some sort of schedule." He admitted and I looked at him incredulously.

"Do you not have a job? Anything to wake up to everyday?" I peer at him, thinking about my own occupation and my own set timetables for each day. The night was the one time I could unwind and escape that order and now here George was saying the night was his most organized time of day!

"My job is complicated and spontaneous, I would say." He sheepishly grinned. My mind started to drift, thinking what could possibly fit under that description.

"Actor?"

That makes sense. I would explain why he, a London resident, is now living in Miami. I was about to ask what genre stuff he does when he responded, "No."

"Pornstar?" I shrugged, going on a whim.

George's jaw dropped and immediately sputtered out, "I-no! I don't d- I don't do that."

"What do you do then?" And I was legitimately curious. Wow. There was a first.

"I won't tell you."

"Okay, pornstar it is then." I went to turn back to the landscape when I felt a jab at my arm. I flinched and looked at him, "What?"

"I'm a streamer." he admitted, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. My face morphed into confusion, I couldn't fathom why he would be ashamed of such.

"Okay? And I'm a 7th grade English teacher. Whatever you put work in, get paid for, and make you happy is a job." I concluded, crossing my arms.

"Makes you happy? Marlowe, there's plenty of people who don't like their jobs-"

"I'm aware. And those aren't jobs, those are burdens. And they don't have to be, it's all up to you," at the word 'you' I drove a finger into George's chest. "And in my case, I love what I do. 7th grade students are wonderful. More wonderful than the beach, just a little wilder."

"I love my job too." George defended, crossing his arms, pouting. And for the first time out here, I laughed. I laughed so hard, I almost fell into the fencing that saved me from falling to my untimely demise. I let out a little giggle, "I never said you didn't George."

"But it's more the people that make it the best you know? Just like your students, I love my friends that I stream with. In fact, two of those friends live here in Miami. That's why I moved here." And I couldn't agree more.

I drove home, my thoughts lingering on that very sentence, a little shiver going through me in unease and slight fear.

It was the people in my life that made me want to continue living in it.

That wasn't the scary part.

The scary part was that I think I was beginning to consider George as one of those people.