Your Love is Enough

3

Liar, liar, liar.

I'm such a liar. And the worst part is they believe me.

George is so nice to me, and Fred doesn't show it, but I can tell he's nice too. They trust me already, and they don't know the truth.

I made up being nonbinary-I heard the term once. But the more that I think about it, the more it feels right.

And I don't deserve this. George has been so nice to me. Fred hasn't talked to me much.

"Blair? Are you asleep?"

I lift my head, and meet George's eyes. "I'm awake."

He smiles. "Good. We're here."

I follow the two of them out of the car, and see we're in the parking lot of an apartment complex.

"You live here?" I ask George as we walk to the doors.

"Mh-hm. Our dad pays for it."

Fred stays outside the door to talk to someone on the phone, and George shows me around.

The apartment is really nice. The living room is pretty big, and everything is white, green, or brown. It's ridiculously clean, which is new to me.

The kitchen counters are filled with plants, and vines hanging from the ceiling. George tells me they're fake, but he likes how it looks. They have that cool ceiling pot rack above the island in the kitchen, then a small table with two chairs. The window looks out onto a lake, and I can see kids playing in the water.

I like their bedroom best. The king sized bed is by the window, and there are more plants on the window sill. There's a wicker chair on the opposite side of the room, by the closet, which has a pride flag hanging from it. White Christmas lights hang on a wall with a small bookcase, strung through polaroid pictures that are attached to yarn.

The theme still seems to be white, green, and brown, which Gerorge says are his favorite colors.

"I love it." I tell him as he leads me back to the living room. We sit on the couch, and he props his feet on the coffee table. "Everything is so beautiful."

"Thanks!" He says, grinning. "Fred let me decorate when we moved in."

"It's awesome. I like all the plants."

"Half of them are fake. I can't keep up with so many. But thank you. Fred likes them, so I let him pick them out."

"You guys are so close. I can't imagine living with my siblings."

I haven't talked to them in years, but that's not the point.

"I've always been close to my siblings. I haven't seen my little brother in a long time, though."

"What happened?"

He sighs. "Our mom kicked him out years ago. Fred and I haven't been able to find him."

The door opens, and Fred comes in.

"It's almost eight." He tells George as he comes over.

George hums, getting up. "I'll be back."

Fred sits down next to me. "George showed you around?" He asks, his eyes lingering on my face before he looks away.

"Yeah. This place is so beautiful."

"George likes to keep things clean." He says.

I realize, after a beat, he means don't make a mess.

"I'm not messy. I'll clean up after myself. You won't even know I'm here, I promise."

"I'm not worried about that." He assures. "Just...George can be sensitive sometimes. Keeping things neat is his way to keep calm."

I bob my head. "I can respect that."

He smiles. He doesn't look so scary when he smiles. "So how old are you, anyway?"

"I'm twenty. I'm...not in college."

""George isn't either. I take online classes when I have the time."

"What do you usually do?"

"Work. I work at a law firm. Most boring job in the world, I know."

"What do you do?"

He seems to like talking about it, and we end up talking about something else, and soon we've been talking for twenty minutes.

"Do we have any more of that cake?"

George is in a too big t-shirt and shorts. His wrists are empty, and his glasses are off. He looks...really cute.

"In the fridge." Fred says.

George yawns, walking over. "You want some?"

"I'm okay. Blair?"

I hesitate, then nod slowly. "What's the cake for?"

"Our brother's birthday. George wanted the cake, so we brought the rest of it home."

I nod thoughtfully. I haven't been to a birthday party in a long time.

George sits beside me, crossing his legs, and placing the plate on his legs. He hands me a fork, and lets me eat the cake with him.

He's quieter now. Calmer.

Fred absentmindedly runs his fingers through my hair, and I lean into him.

I'm almost asleep when George yawns, setting his fork down.

"Let's go to bed." He mumbles. "Are they asleep?"

"Yeah." Fred hums. "Come on."

He lifts me easily, and I curl into him automatically. George follows into the bedroom. He lays me on the bed, and George slips in by my side.

I can sleep with them?

George falls asleep quickly, but Fred moves around the room. When I feel him move into the bed behind me, shirtless, I tense, but his arms wrap around me and I relax into his arms. His fingers slip into my hair, gentle and soft.

"Go to sleep." He murmurs in my ear.

And, feeling happy and comforted, I do.