Smoke Break /Georgenotfound/

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I tried my best to appear unaffected while Maya was around, but I found myself zoning out frequently, which eventually caught her attention. I blamed it on the lack of sleep, which she took as a sign to leave so I could finally have some rest.

But I wasn't going to sleep. I couldn't even if I wanted to. What I wanted to do was stalk certain someone all night.

Seeing George on the screen felt incredibly odd. It was as if I was observing and learning about someone I wasn't familiar with, despite having a substantial amount of information that wasn't even public. I felt like I knew about him more than his followers, yet I still lacked the basic information that was public.

He seemed quite different when speaking to the camera. His energy level in person was much lower, which makes sense since he doesn't have to be entertaining while talking to people in real life, yet it's his job to entertain when the cameras are rolling.

It was 3 a.m. and I was still watching random clips of him. I think I caught up with 3 years worth of footage, and even though I couldn't understand the context of half of them, some of them were still really funny.

And when I got a text, it felt like two realities clashed.

George: Why is your light still on, huh?

I forgot he could see my bedroom window from his balcony. And why did I forget to turn my light off?

I didn't want him to be aware that I knew. While I understood that it could have been awkward for him to stand infront of me and randomly confess that he was famous, a small part of me wondered if he hadn't fully trusted me enough to share that information.

I was hoping that maybe things were just starting to get a bit more serious between us, and he would eventually tell me. He couldn't hide it forever, could he?

Anyway, making up my mind that I was gonna pretend that I still had no idea, I opened the text to reply to it.

Aria: can't sleep without you playing that boring ass space documentary

George: Same

George: But only the first 4 words apply

Oh, turns out I get butterflies from texts too.

He might've seen me typing and deleting for a while. I just couldn't come up with an answer to that.

George: Come out, I wanna see you

I immediately jumped down from my bed. Then, I ran to the mirror to make sure I looked good. Then counted to ten, so he didn't think I was waiting for him to say that. And only after all of that, I headed to the balcony.

It felt strange to see him in person after looking at him on my phone all day. The bloodshot eyes suddenly made sense to me only after today. He must have been streaming or filming something.

"I heard someone wanted to see me," I grinned, shutting the door behind me, as he leaned against the railing with his elbows.

"Where did you hear that?" He managed to sound genuinely intrigued. I have to hand it to him; he's a good actor.

"I don't know, I just heard it from someone." I shrugged.

"Did that someone also mention that someone was missing you?"

I rested against my balcony railing, aligning perfectly to face him. The design of these balconies was truly impeccable.

"You should start taking breaks while.. working," I almost gave myself away, "your eyes are all red."

"Who said I was working?" I still did give myself away, apparently.

"Just an assumption," I shrugged, "you did mention having things to do, so I thought."

"Mhm," he smiled, "how was your day? You had a friend over?"

I almost had a heart attack thinking he might've overheard our conversation, but I soon realized that I was probably overthinking again. We had been practically whispering the whole time, and the noises coming from their apartment were louder than us.

"I did," I nodded, trying to read his expression. It was just a smile. I was definitely overthinking, "how'd you know?"

"Just an assumption," I knew he wouldn't waste the opportunity to tease me, but as soon as I rolled my eyes, he told me the truth, "I heard them leaving."

Oh yeah, we did make a lot of noise saying goodbye to each other.

"Understandable," I nodded.

And he smiled.

It was somehow calming how we just stood there, looking at each other in silence, and the warm breeze surrounded us, creating a calming atmosphere. I couldn't help but fixate on how he played with his fingers, and I noticed the faint redness on the tips of his fingers.

"Your hands are always so cold," I blurted out, "they seem cold right now."

He separated his fingers and looked at his hands, as if it was the first time he was seeing them.

"I don't feel it," he raised his shoulders and then let them drop, "I need a point of reference."

Coming up with things like that on the spot must be a skill. Often, I couldn't even respond quickly enough because my brain didn't work fast enough. And this time it only hit me when he reached out his arm, offering his hand for me to hold.

I did my part, longing my hand and putting it in his indeed colder one.

"Yeah, you're hot," he grinned, "your hand too."

How do I change the subject without blushing?

Wait, I know.

"Look, we're just two arm lengths apart." I swung our arms back and forth over the emptiness below.

"I'd cut the distance, but you need rest," his thumb traced my knuckles softly, "I feel bad keeping you up with me."

I wish I had the courage to ask him over and suggest that he spent the night at my place. We could sleep in my room, on different beds, without it being awkward or too much. I just really wanted his company, even if it was only for sleeping, but didn't know how to tell him.

"You're not gonna sleep?" I asked, checking if he had any other plans.

"Well, I'm gonna try to."

And now for the moment of truth.

"You can come over if you want," I said it quickly, "to sleep at my place."

Hand his response was genuine and unforced. As if he was waiting for it.

"Finally, the long-awaited sleeping date."