𝐌𝐂𝐘𝐓 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairings: Georgenotfound x Reader
Warnings: None
Pronouns: They/them

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(Y/n) sat back, giggling at the joke they had just been told by their friend, George, who was sat with them by the end of a field during sunset to watch the sun pass the horizon. George shared an equally happy expression with them as he held his hand to his chest to stifle his laughter. The moment felt warm and cuddly, like a thousand butterflies had set off in their stomachs. They felt like they were laughing so hard that it was getting sort of difficult to breathe, the kind of laughter that makes your face go red so you feel all silly. It's the kind of happiness that you don't feel very often, and so, thankfully for the two of them, they were experiencing that happiness together.

It was very often often that the two of them went out on happy days like this, where the evening sun was just setting on the two of them laughing once more. They were the closest of friends. But, judging by how close they were, anybody who didn't know them would just assume that they were a couple. In fact, even people who did know them assumed that they were a couple. And if they didn't, they would constantly talk about how the two of them should get together because they would make the perfect match.

Of course, it never really bothered (Y/n). The two of them received comments like that a lot. Hearing 'Oh my god, you guys are such a cute couple!' and 'So how long have you two been dating for?' had become such a conventional occasion on the times they went out and it because routine for (Y/n) to have to chuckle and brush it off, proclaiming that the two of them were not together. Whenever somebody were to make jokes about the two of them dating, (Y/n) would just laugh it off. Not even in an awkward way as if it made them uncomfortable, but in a way that made you believe that they were genuinely receiving it as a joke. It was clear that it never annoyed them.

But it did bother George, however. Having people constantly come up to the two of them and talk about if they were in a happy relationship, or having his friends tease him about just going out with them already. But the reason wasn't even as bad as it sounds. It didn't upset him that they were friends with (Y/n), of course. Why would it? (Y/n) was perhaps the most amazing person that he had ever met and he was more than glad to have come across them the first time that they spoke. But there was something between them that George had always denied was there that made him tense whenever he was around them. It was love.

Nearing the moment that he met them, George had been plagued of the almost incurable illness of love. And whenever people joked about their friendship and how it might as well be romantic, it made him feel sick when he was reminded that it wasn't. When (Y/n) brushed off the rumours about them dating and when they laughed at the teasing and the jokes that George's friends had played on him, he felt even more distant with his heart at the possibility that (Y/n) wouldn't like him back. He had been putting off his emotions for the longest time because he believed that it would have been better if he had kept them to himself because a good friendship is always better than an unhappy relationship.

But, the thing was, he didn't want to keep his words to himself. He wanted nothing more than to just tell them how he felt. To put into words, into paragraphs, about his love for them and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with them. He wanted to get every emotion and thought about them off his chest and to reveal how he truly felt. He didn't just want to tell them one thing, he wanted to tell them everything. And having to lay out his sentences in good format was the way to do it.

For the longest time, he had been putting his words together and formulating his sentences. He had been planning days and plans for when the two of them could go out so that he could confess his love. He had written letters, emails and texts, all of which he had later scrapped in order to profess his feelings. But, in the end, his emotions were always delayed and postponed because the timing was never ever right. Every dinner, call and conversation felt so far away from the topic that repeated in his mind that he couldn't even find the laces to link the subjects together.