George and I stood still. We awkwardly wait for the other to decide what we're supposed to do for the time-being. This went on for five minutes before George decided he needed to make a bed on the floor.
We divided up the pillows nicely, and I offered up the scratchy blanket from the bottom of the motel's bed. I actually sit on the bed, watching as he tries to figure out what to do. My head rests on my forearm lazily; my eyes are only half open while he rearranges his single blanket and three pillows.
"I bet there's more blankets at the front desk," I say. My voice is quiet as if I'm afraid to wake myself up.
George looks up from his work. He squints at me for a second before saying, "Yeah, actually, that's smart."
I let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I know."
He stands, grabbing his phone and the key card from the desk. "I'm going to go ask for more blankets at the front desk," he says. His eyes glance to me. "Maybe try to get some sleep okay?"
My brows furrow and I lift my head slightly to see him better. "What are you trying to say?"
"That you look exhausted." He chuckles. "We're hoping that we'll be able to drive tomorrow which means you driving."
"I know." I let my head hit the pillow. "It's your fault you can't drive."
"Yeah, yeah." I can't see him, but I imagine George rolled his eyes with that sentence. "I'll be back, but try to take a nap, okay."
"Mhm," I hum into the pillow.
I hear the door click shut behind him before flipping over to my side. I'm facing the window and AC unit still, in front of George's 'bed'.
My eyes feel as if weights force them down. I'd never admit it, but George was right. I'm exhausted.
Not only have I driven nineteen hours, but I've barely gotten any sleep as well. I might be a danger to the roads once we get start driving again.
I click the side light on before pulling a sweatshirt over my head. I pull the hood up and let my eyes close, hoping to get some sleep while I'm finally alone.
O O O
My nap felt too short before I'm back in the car. My head is pressed against the steering wheel. I lift my head only to realize the car is surrounded by a familiar haze. I let out a long, sad sigh before unlocking the car through the steering wheel's middle button.
I walk around the car and through the fog as far as I can. My feet are glued to the floor beyond a certain point. I look down at my socks; they're now soaked all the way through. My feet are lined up along a thick, yellow line.
The fog clears, revealing two men walking hand in hand towards a large vehicle. I know what it is. I've lived this a thousand times before.
I close my eyes tight, but the image of a plane is burned in the back of my eyelids. I physically cannot look away from the men walking to the plane.
They're twelve steps away from the plane. Ten. Eight. Six. Four.
Someone grabs onto my hand. I glance to the side only to see an old man. My grandpa.
They hit the stairs up to the plane. Seven. Five. Three.
The knocks on the side of the plane are vivid. They vibrate my eardrums as they always do.
One.
Neither of the men will turn around. I won't get to see their faces; mostly because I don't remember.
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thirty-six hours with you | georgenotfound x reader
Fanfiction"Absolutely not." My voice is lined with disgust. "Oh come on," Dream is still trying to convince me, "It's just a car ride." "Yeah a thirty-six hour one." I turn to George, who's sitting in the passenger seat. "Thirty-six hours with you." a story i...
