⇾ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 | 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈

↠ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1959

A door opening down the hallway distracted Paul in the middle of shaving. His white button-up was still half-unbuttoned, his hair was still adjusting to the gel he'd reapplied just moments ago, and he really didn't have much time to sit around and have a chat with whoever had just entered the house.

"Paul? Where are you? I've got to have a chat with you!" 

Paul rolled his eyes at himself in the mirror and swiped the razor the last few times before rinsing his face and drying it off. George appeared in the doorway of the bathroom and Paul turned to him with an unamused look. 

"What do you want?" Paul asked. "I've got a date, so it had better be something quick."

"Guin wanted to have sex," he whispered. "But, I ran away."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "You ran away?" he asked, and he couldn't help it. He chuckled, just a little bit.

"Hell, Paul, don't ruddy laugh at me!" George cried. "It just didn't feel right. Don't think I wanna do...that right now."

"What did she say?" Paul asked. "Hate to break it to you, but Guinevere is the school whore. No sex might be a deal breaker."

George's eyebrows furrowed. "Why does everyone call her that?"

"Because it's true," Paul replied. 

"Well, if she's a whore, then you're a man whore!" George argued. "I knew I shouldn't have brought this up to you. Sorry I even bloody tried." George scoffed. "Have fun on your date." With that, he turned and left the bathroom, leaving Paul all alone. 

"I hope that's not how you ran away from her!" Paul called after him, breaking into a fit of laughter. "That's a dealbreaker for most women!"

George appeared back in the doorway with a scowl on his face. Paul turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Thought you were done with me?" he asked. 

"You're the only one I can talk to," George grumbled. 

"Well, once again," Paul said. "Alex will be here in about twenty minutes so make this therapy session speedy."

George rolled his eyes. "Bloody therapy session. I don't need ruddy therapy, and if I did, I definitely would not get it from you."

Paul put a hand to his heart mockingly. "Awe, George...I'm hurt."

Paul pushed past George and went into his bedroom. George followed him up there, his mind still reeling from his encounter with Guinevere. He couldn't believe what had almost happened...and he also couldn't believe that he wasn't ready for it! What kind of bloody bullshite was that?