anybody else | wilbur soot fanfiction

_chapter thirty-four_ accident

LoveJoy went to their meeting earlier today. The flat felt eerily quiet once the guys were gone, so I decided to head over to George's earlier than I had planned.

I use my key to walk in. I don't see him anywhere around even though the guys said they talked to him this morning.

I swear if he's taking a nap. I walk over to his room and knock on the door a couple times. When I get no response, I open the door slowly.

I roll my eyes at him being all cuddled up asleep in his bed. This guy sleeps more than an actual baby does.

"George," I whisper as I make my way over to the side of the bed he's half-hanging off of. "Wake up, Georgie."

He mumbles something incoherent before flipping onto his other side.

"George," I say a little louder, "Wake up."

"Why?" he asks, his voice muffled from the pillow in his face.

"Because the guys are going to be back soon."

He sits up slowly. "I hate waking up."

I laugh. "Trust me, I know."

The blanket falls off his shoulders, and he shivers. "Gross. It's cold."

"Gross?" I mock him.

"Shut up and get under a blanket before you get frostbite." George shoves one of his many blankets in my direction.

I drape it across myself before sitting on the bed with him. This isn't something we do often, but I know from the past that George likes to gossip when wrapped in blankets.

"What?" I ask, expecting there to be something he wants to say.

"You seemed to avoid Wilbur yesterday," George inquires. "What's up with all that?"

I shrug. "Just friends. It's just going to take some adjusting, you know?"

George nods. "But what if you aren't friends?"

I laugh a little. "I would be down to try being more, but there's two people here, George. I can't say how Wilbur feels about me because I don't know."

George smiles a little bit before opening his mouth. He shuts it promptly after, deciding against telling me.

"What?" I urge. I know that look anywhere, and I know it means George is hiding information. "What do you know?"

"Oh, nothing," George says casually before standing from the bed. "I think I'll get something to eat before the boys get back."

I follow him to the kitchen. "What are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding anything." George shrugs.

"Are you purposely not telling me certain information?" I ask pointedly.

George blushes a bit. "I don't want to change the undeniable future."

He turns around and ends up heading towards the toilet room, forgetting about his snack.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I call out as he's closing the door. "This isn't the time to become some sort of riddler, George!"

I'm sitting on the barstool to his counter when George comes back from the toilet.

"What do you know?" I ask him as he heads back towards the fridge.

"I know," he begins, "that we are going to be drinking tonight no matter what."

He grabs a juice box from the fridge. It's a strange thing about George. He could have completely empty cupboards with absolutely no food in the house, but I can bet my entire life there will be juice boxes in that fridge. It's an addiction.