I wound the noodles around my chopsticks, leaning in and taking a bite. George laughed, throwing a piece of chicken in the air and catching it in his mouth. We were having fun. It had been surreal; we were together once more, enjoying one another's company. The joy of being with him had been insane. I'd not felt this happy in weeks, hearing him crack jokes, and being genuinely nervous to go out with me. He had cared.
"Did you have practice today?" He questioned. I nodded, remembering going for a coffee with Jason, but wasn't sure whether or not to mention it. He'd been jealous before, and I was worried telling him would make him think I was slutty. I'd not doubted his change, as I'd seen with my own eyes his differences, yet I still felt a pull in me. My stomach churned thinking about what he would have done before.
"You saw Art earlier, huh?" George pressed, only coming through the door seconds before. I'd been waiting for him to find out.
"We just saw each other in town and grabbed a quick drink-"
I didn't have time to finish my sentence before I'd been knocked backward, my nose burning. "I'm sorry, Belle. I just get jealous." He crouched down and I wasn't sure whether he was tricking me, but I sat up and wrapped an arm around him through tears.
"It's okay." I replied. It wasn't okay. I wasn't okay.
"Yeah, we performed what we'd been learning for the past couple weeks - Jason and I came in third." I smiled through talking, hoping he'd be proud of me.
"That's amazing, well done." He went a little quiet. Though it was probably due to eating, I wondered whether he was comfortable with me mentioning a guy. It was unlikely he was still that protective over me, and if he had been, I hoped he would just channel the emotion into a conversation, and not through fists. Even through silence I was still enjoying his company.
After a couple of glasses of liquor, I'd decided it was time to stop drinking alcohol and go on water, I didn't want to become paralytic.
"Why don't we play a game?" George asked, drawing me from my thoughts. I smiled, glancing from the table back to him.
"Truth or dare?" I asked, beginning to giggle. He grinned, nodding sheepishly.
"How did you know?" He laughed heartily, and I realised he was a little tipsy. Considering I had been too, I was a little concerned for how this 'game' was going to go.
"Is that question a truth?" I prodded.
"No." He pushed his smile down, attempting to maintain a straight face. "Truth or dare, Belle?"
I thought for a second, glancing over his pale face. Nothing good ever came from a dare. "Truth." Replying quietly, I awaited my fate.
"Do you like what I'm wearing today?" He asked, straightening his arms and moving his head to the side as if modelling. We were both as giddy as two school children, and my only response was through tears of laughter.
"Yes. That was a dumb question." I tucked my hair behind my ear, as he told me he'd wanted a 'truth' too. I sat in concentration, searching for something to ask through the clouds in my mind.
"Do you think I'm a good kisser?" The question seemed a little too serious now it had left my mouth, but I didn't want to redact it just yet. If he would have gotten weird about it, I would have played it off as a simple joke. But I would test the waters here and see what he would respond to.
"Yeah, I do." He hadn't seemed as joyful as before, but there was still a playful aura around him. I couldn't quite read it properly. Was it a lust? Or just shock?
"Do you think I'm a good kisser?" He asked me, staring me down intently. A few hairs on my neck stood up as I rubbed them in a form of comfort. The anxiety grew in me and a flock of butterflies circled around my stomach.
"Yes. I do."
"Do you wonder what it would be like if you stayed with me?" I asked, getting a little too deep.
"Of course I do-" He began, but I wasn't satisfied with his tone.
"Answer honestly, George." I'd interrupted, and he paused. Clearly feeling uncomfortable, he opened his mouth, inhaling before replying.
"I don't entirely regret leaving. I think it did us good to be apart, and I don't think you acknowledge that. With you, I'm not sure I would have grown in any way."
I was a little shocked with his answer, and although unimpressed with the brutality, I appreciated that he'd told me the truth.
"Are you mad?" He questioned, and I shook my head.
"No. Thank you for being honest." I replied. Perhaps he wasn't wrong. But the years without him were painful - though I wasn't sure they compared to the pain I had been in the relationship. That relationship wouldn't have ended well. So, he had been right. We needed time apart for him to change, and for me to realise I was more than just his. I am my own person.
"I dare you to walk me to your house." I said, smiling. He returned the expression, and my body calmed itself. I was happy with this. I was okay.
The walk wasn't too cold, though I'd wished I'd brought a more comfortable change of shoes, and couldn't stop thinking about getting to take off my face of makeup. There wasn't a feeling like a fresh face, and bringing the duvet up to my chin, sprawled over the mattress and able to sleep soundly. And, tonight I would share the bed with George once more. It wasn't a sexual feeling, but a contentedness that filled a hole I that hadn't been full in a long time. There was something about spending time with him that was mesmerizing.
We eventually got back, and I was feeling a little anxious. I wasn't really sure why, as I'd had a great night, and had felt happy with our conversation earlier, but being intimate with George had brought back emotions and memories I hadn't faced for a while - it was beginning to get a little overwhelming.
"You okay?" He questioned. I smiled and nodded, though I had felt a little bile in my throat. I hadn't known why, but I swallowed it down and continued through to his livingroom, attempting to suppress the odd feeling arising through me. Reaching out to the couch with the intention of sitting down, I lost my balance and missed completely; instead falling back, head pounding - not from the impact. I had already accepted what was happening, as soon as we had left I could feel it coming on. Part of me was angry for not recognising the symptoms sooner and possibly preventing what was to come. My eyes rolled back and I couldn't see much other than blackness, feeling like I was suffocating.
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