Smoke Break /Georgenotfound/

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I gripped the edges of the wooden platform, making sure I was secure on the railing while George jumped from one balcony to another. He did it so effortlessly every time, and I shamelessly found it attractive every single damn time.

I looked at him with heavy lids and a smile that might've looked seductive, from the way I captured my bottom lip between my teeth as he came closer.

The first thing he did was gently secure my dangling legs between his own, seemingly ensuring I wouldn't lose my balance. Our faces were now at the same level, mine just a bit lower, which offered the perfect view at the perfect distance to make my breath hitch momentarily.

"Give me your hand," his voice snapped me back to reality, and I realized that he had been holding his open palm in front of me this whole time, waiting for me to take it.

The thing was, my hands were the only support I had aside from his legs. If I lifted even one of my hands, the chances of me losing my balance would increase exponentially.

But he didn't need to know all of that. Instead, I simply shook my head as a sign of protest. He wanted my hand to pull me down to the ground anyway. Why would I say yes to that?

George clearly didn't like my response. He threw his head back just slightly and sighed, looking back at my face with a significantly more tired face than before.

"Are you gonna get down by yourself or not?" He blinked at me blankly.

"What do you mean by myself?" I raised a brow, understanding what he was implying to, yet wanting to check if I got it right.

"I mean are you gonna get down or do I have to get you down?" His legs applied pressure on the sides of my knees, securing me still in the same spot.

I'm glad he pressed my legs together cause I was about to do the same thing, and it would've been obvious.

"What if I don't wanna get down?" I smiled, not thinking much of it until I felt his hands on my sides, "what-"

He took a hold of my waist, and I instinctively gripped his shoulders as he lifted me up from the railing, setting me down on the floor as if he was adjusting a piece of decor.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in position, I found myself struggling to maintain my balance on my uncomfortable heels. My legs wobbled beneath me, and I had to rely on George for support, my hands tightly clutching onto his shoulders to steady myself as my chest pressed flush against his.

"Oh, fuck-" the words slipped out of my mouth when I finally was able to form words.

"You okay?"

Raising my gaze, I found him looking down at me, our faces inches apart, his breath brushing against my skin. His fingers tightened around my waist, ensuring I remained steady in his hold.

A strange sensation burnt through my mind, as if a wire had been crossed in my brain, causing an unexpected shift in my thoughts.

I pulled George's neck down until our faces were practically about to merge – foreheads touching, noses brushing, and lips barely having any distance between them.

Struggling to maintain slow breaths, I was waiting for him to kiss me, getting whole body chills whenever our lips were close to touching each other. Yet, the contact he offered was limited to the sensation of his fingertips pressing into my hips.

"You're so drunk," he murmured, a subtle shake of his head accompanying his words. His velvety voice made me feel like I was about to explode.

"And?" I knew he wasn't going to move an inch, "What does that change?" It's not like we weren't about to kiss yesterday when I was sober.

"Changes things for me," he spoke, our faces still torturously close.

I moved my head enough for my lips to hover over his ear, my fingers running through the curls at the nape of his neck, "But I want you so bad," I breathed out, his skin reacting immediately with goosebumps rising on his neck.

"Aria- mhm.." he struggled to form words as my lips found their way to the sensitive spot just below his ear, a soft sigh escaping him as I gently sucked on the tender skin.

His skin tasted so good that I couldn't resist grazing my teeth against it, causing him to suck in a breath. He snapped back momentarily though, peeling my body away from his.

"You're no fun," I laughed, but the look on his face said that nothing was funny.

George placed both his hands on either sides of my head, cradling my face and making me meet his gaze. However, my eyes were drawn to the lipstick stain on his neck, perfectly complementing the reddish mark I had left on his skin, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Look at me," his hands dropped to the sides of my neck, thumbs guiding along my jawline gently.

"What?" I laughed at how he had to do this to keep me focused on his face.

"Nothing's happening until you're sober," he enunciated each word distinctly, as if he was giving me a set of instructions, "understood?"

He had no idea how hot that sounded to me and how big of a brainrot I was going through. I could barely grasp his words, but I nodded and bit my lip.

"And you're gonna listen to me until you're able to think by yourself," he continued, my dreamy haze fixated on his face and the way his lips articulated each word, "got it?"

I nodded again, waiting for this to be over so I could kiss him.

"Good, now let's go inside," his hands finally dropped from my neck, allowing me to regain control of my own head.

"To do what?" I smirked, tilting my head just a little to meet his eyes

"To tuck you into bed," he replied, his grip on my hand gentle yet firm as he guided me towards the door. With a soft push, he opened it and led me inside.

"But I don't wanna go to bed.. unless you join me." I teased, the thought of pinning him against the closing door momentarily tempting, but I could barely stand on my feet.

I saw him lock the balcony door with the key I left inside the keyhole, slipping it into his pocket afterward.

"Good thing you're not the one making the decisions here," he turned around and motioned for me to move, "walk."

I did as he said, clicking my heels on the floor until I reached the rug. I thought he'd follow me, but he stayed standing there with his hands casually tucked into his pockets, his gaze fixed on me. It felt like a drunk driving test when they made you walk in a straight line.

I collapsed onto the couch with a sense of relief, crossing my legs and not paying any attention to the fact that my skirt had ridden up, revealing almost everything of my thighs.

"Come sit, I won't bite." I invited, tapping the spot next to me.

But instead of answering, George pressed his fingers to the mark I left on his neck. And that was a good enough response. No words needed.