George's phone rings. I snuggle deeper into my blankets to avoid the noise. His phone keeps ringing.
"George," I mumble.
I don't hear anything on the other side of the bed. I groan into my pillow at the obnoxious ringtone at nine in the morning.
"George," I repeat.
The bed feels more comfortable than last time. The blankets are wrapped perfectly, the bed has the perfect amount of mush, the light casts through the room in a perfect blanket.
My opens, trying to recall what I just saw.
"George." I turn quickly to tell him the news. My elbow hits him in the jaw.
"y/n," George mutters under his breath. He rubs the spot I hit, but he doesn't move his arm from my waist, which causes me to wonder why GeorgeNotFound's arm was wrapped around my waist in a blanket.
"George, get off of me." I try to shove him, careful not to startle him awake too much.
"What are you taking about?" George squints his eyes, removing his hand to wipe his eyes. It takes him a minute to register that our pillow dividing us is nowhere to be seen. "y/n, get your cold feet away from me."
George's phone stops ringing, and it feels oddly quiet now. I move my feet away, but I get wrapped around George's leg. We're tangled for a minute before I pull my legs away.
"What do you want y/n?" George huffs now that he's awake.
He's breathing out of his nose, and it tickles the hairs framing my forehead. My mind can only focus on the tingling sensation until finally remembering he asked me a question. I glance to meet his eyes.
"What?" I ask in a whisper.
"What were you trying to tell me?" He asks. A single strip of sunlight falls across the side of his head and onto his shoulder. It looks warm like a summer's day, and I'm tempted to reach out and touch it.
"Sun," was how I chose to answer his question.
"Okay and?" George looks down at his own shoulder as well to see the stripe.
I roll my eyes, and I lightly take my hand to bump him on the head. "Sun means no more storm, idiot."
George scoffs, rolling away from me. "Well duh, but who called me?"
I prop myself up on an elbow. "You knew your phone was ringing and chose not to pick it up?"
"Yeah." George picks the phone up and clicks on a voicemail, bringing it to his ear.
"You're evil," I whisper.
George ignores me for the voicemail, then when he sets the phone down, he's smiling.
"What?" I ask.
"I know something you don't." George swings his legs over the bed and walks across the room to his bag.
"What do you know?"
"Well, y/n." George grabs his toothbrush. "There's this thing called leverage, and I would like to have some over you."
I watch him walk into the bathroom before calling out, "Where are you going, George?"
I check my own phone only to see the weather seems to be clear. As much as I've hated being stuck with George for so long, it feels almost bittersweet that we can start driving to Florida again. Well, if my car can fixed today we can start driving back.
"Wait." I stand and walk to the bathroom door, knocking three times. "Does it have to do with my car?" I ask through the door.
I can hear George spit his toothpast out, but he doesn't answer my question.
I knock on the door again. "George."
No answer.
"George." I knock a little more. "Is my car getting fixed today?"
George clings something together in the bathroom.
"George," I try one last time, "Do you–"
The bathroom door swings open. "My god, you ruin surprises."
My face breaks out into a smile. "You're joking."
"Obviously not." George rolls his eyes and walks back to his bag. "And they're almost done, so you need to get dressed."
I jump on the ball of my feet. I guess I am more excited that my tire's fixed than I had originally thought.
O O O
George swipes his card through the credit machine one, then pulls his phone out to type in the number on the notes app.
I roll my eyes. "I can pay for my own car to get fixed."
George leans against the counter now as we wait. The mechanic disappeared into the back a couple of minutes ago, saying he would pull the car around front. "Well, no actually, let's think about this."
"Think about what?"
"The logistics, y/n." George glances up as he thinks about it. "If Dream didn't force us to be on the car together, then there would be less weight putting pressure on the car as it crossed the nail on the road."
"And there would be less miles because we wouldn't have gone to your aunt's house to steal an ottoman," I add.
George gives me a look. This morning, we had to carry the ottoman from the motel into the uber, and now it's sitting in between us in the mechanic shop.
"It's in the way," I say, pretending to stub my toe on one of the legs.
"Anyways, this is basically all Dream's fault, so he's going to pay," George continues his rant.
"How is it Dream's fault?" I'm still behind on the math of it all.
"Because everything is Dream's fault." George rolls his eyes. "Get with the program, y/n."
George is shaking his head when he checks his phone again. I smile up at him, noticing the slight bags underneath his eyes. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his lips are slightly pursed.
His eyes lift to meet mine, and I glance down at my feet. I can hear him chuckle before sliding his phone back into his pocket.
"Now how long does it take to get a car up front?" George asks.
As if on cue, the mechanic walks back into the room. We follow him out to my car, and I practically run to the driver's side. "Ugh, I missed you," I whisper to the car.
George walks up to the open car door. "You're weird," he comments before making his way to the other side.
"Does your car have a name?" he asks, buckling his seat belt.
I turn the car on. "No, why?"
"Maybe you should give it a name," he says.
I put the car into drive, pulling out of the parking space. "And what do you think I should name it?"
He thinks for a moment, staring out the window, then smiles. "What about George?"
I roll my eyes. "No."
"Oh come on." George laughs at his own joke. "Why not?"
"Because."
"Because why?" George leans his head against the seat to look at me. "What's wrong with the name George?"
"Nothing." I follow the GPS directions to turn right. "And because I said so."
George unlocks his phone. "That's an awful reason."
"I'll name it Gerald," I say, "Is that good enough for you?"
He crosses his arms. "Fine."
The GPS says to take another right, and we're merging onto the interstate once again.
author's note:
ya girl has yet another exam this thursday, but i promise the posting schedule will go back to normal soon. the story's not going anywhere!
have an amazing day <3
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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...
