Breakaway

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"My head or my heart who should control now?"Unfamiliar Seeb x Goodboys x HRVY

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"My head or my heart who should control now?"
Unfamiliar
Seeb x Goodboys x HRVY

Dream

George has slept in my bed all week. I ask him to and he simply stays. It's weird, really, to have him just cave so easily. He doesn't cave with anything. Sometimes I wonder if he's just... lonely and that's why he stays.

George has two friends me and his roommate, he doesn't mingle with anyone else outside of that very specific circle. Maybe my team, but that's neither here nor there. When he's not with me he's in the corner of the library with his nose in a book. It's something I've always admired about him, how he could turn everyone off. The way his lip is taken hostage by pretty teeth as he reads the page vigorously.

It's happening now.

Soft, like he's in some kind of romance movie, George is sat crisscrossed with his notes spread around my bed in cute particular piles. A book in his lap to distract him from all of his other multitasking. His, my, shirt hangs off his fading marked shoulder gentle under soft morning light.

As I'm looking at him, I realize how much I've missed this. Him. We used to be able to exist within the same air space all the time, but then I fell in love with Courtney. She took my life and put it in a choke hold, now I'm obsessed with her. Painfully obsessed. She's beautiful, vibrant, fun, sexy, everything draws me in like a moth to a flame. Even our conversations are obsessive. They're kind that have you hanging on her every word for days. George isn't like that.

He could rival Courtney for her beauty, yes, but he's not obsessive. George is like the wind, breezy and light. Something about the way he presents himself lightens up the room, the world, my day. Fighting back isn't his forte, but that doesn't seclude arguing. George will argue with me until blue in the face to be correct. And I love everything about him.

Not like I love Courtney, when I think about love with her it burns. No, When I think about George, something just settles in my core. Everything softens to a tender ache and a comforting silence. I've never compared the two before, but here I am suddenly making a Venn diagram. Which is irrelevant.

"Would you want to go on a date?" The words come out without context and George forces a laugh.

"With you? Never," He jokes.

I roll my eyes and start flicking through movies again, "not with me. I have a friend who you'd probably be interested in."

He's quiet, brooding slightly. And I wonder what goes on in his brain all the time. I might be the one in several math classes but the way George's head works is miles smarter than mine. Miles more complex. Everything he does is thought through like a well-written book. Plot twists and all.

"No," he says eventually. "I don't want to date anyone. I don't have the time."

"You do." He rolls his eyes. "You have the time."

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