YOU'RE MY LONDON | gnf x reader

OLD | Epilogue

(( hello, anybody who managed to find this after all this time. the other ending was unsatisfactory and wasn't at all in any means closure, so I'm writing this at 3 am in the morning for those who wanted some closure. I doubt they'll ever see this but that's alright. not to mention, I usually write in third person, so this is a bit odd coming back to. ))

You sat with your arms folded over your chest, eyes gazing out the window into the quiet evening sky. There weren't many clouds in the sky, at least not apparent to you, and the moon was just rising to its highest point among the dark blanket that settled around the Earth. You breathed steadily, listening to the chirping of the last morning bird before sleep came over it too. Glancing towards your computer screen, you relaxed your shoulders. It must've been quite a busy day for others, as the socials you had open were almost bare; rather, your messages were bare. Or at least, they've felt that way. Uncrossing your arms, you pushed your hands out in front of you, gently stretching. You flexed your fingers, taking a moment to further calm yourself before entering the world of endless stress: the internet.

It'd been a month or two since your last stream, and you'd been too tired to pick yourself up again. Questions scattered around the internet like whispers among crowds of many or the waves they make students do at those pointless school concerts. Clearing your throat, you pulled yourself and the chair you sat in forward. You weren't exactly sure where to start. There were the bombarding nags of the people on twitter, and the exceptionally quietness of your own Discord messages. Youtube was the same, per usual, and the videos grew more boring to watch with each passing minute. Twitch was all the same as Youtube, and you couldn't bring yourself to stay in a stream for longer than ten minutes. It was all quite boring. Everything had lost its meaning.

Ever since George stopped returning your messages, that is.

It seemed as if virtual cobwebs strung from one side of the screen to another, and that box of past messages was struggling to stand on its own. It was all alone; you were all alone. What had seemed to be a paradise was only an oasis, or something that seemed to last yet could never really. It was a fragment of your mind, and one you could never retrieve. In a practical sense, you could hardly tell if he was still your lover. It had been about three months since he'd been on last. Since anyone at all had heard from him. On many occasions had you searched for any missing signs of him from where he was residing in Australia, but never did anything about such ever appear. Furthermore, George had never said a word about leaving everybody in the darkness. He streamed when possible and always seemed like a bundle of joy to those who surrounded him. Even you couldn't find any reason for him to leave. Except, he had.

You scrunched up the bridge of your nose, quickly dodging the bullets each thought of him created. There were times that you'd been blamed for his leaving, and others where you were pitied. All you could do were ignore the messages and focus on what was good for you; but you weren't the best at that. Your room lay a mess, piles of clothes strewn around your laundry basket and random books scattered beside your bed. You hadn't had the slightest motivation to clean up. It wasn't like anyone planned to show up to visit. Nobody wanted to or asked about it. You were alone. 

Your fingers ran along the keys with ease, each bouncing back up at you, only for you to press again. A dark screen filled your vision and took up your main monitor. A familiar site stood before you, and you couldn't help but take a glimpse toward the amount of notifications you had gathered during your absence. You mentally winced, swiftly averting your eyes to something else. The creation tab popped into view and you typed two simple letters, creating a harmless word to send out around the world. Your throat grew dry with each minute you stared at the send button. It wasn't such a hard thing to do; it shouldn't have been. Just one click of a button and you'd let everybody know that you were not missing or perhaps quitting. Such a small amount of words and tasks but yet such a hard mental objective; a hard mental action. You gnawed on your lower lip for quite some time, anxiety gushing throughout your veins. And somehow, you managed to send the message. A simple "hi", but it was there. You knew it'd cause a great amount of emotion and news to the online world, and you knew more rumors would spread. Alas, it was a decision you could hardly make do with yourself, and it was the slightest sign you were still there for any audience that may remain.

A knock sounded at your door, causing you to freeze in your spot. You weren't the person to usually ask the "flight or fight" question, but it was clear which your mind ran to first. Yet, you were an adult. A functioning adult, not a kid whose parent was asleep which caused the kid to become afraid of a few knocks at the door. So, when the knocking pounded against the door once more, you lifted yourself from you seat and dragged yourself towards the sound. You grasped the doorknob, fingers sliding around the metal knob with ease, and turned it. The door opened a bit too quickly for your own likings and left you face to face with a man about your height, maybe a few inches taller. Your eyes trailed his body up to his face, and you almost jumped at the sight. Your hand clasped over your mouth, and it was only instinct to take few steps back. The man smiled softly, but kept himself from entering; polite, that's who he was. Polite, kind, humorous, handsome, and all your favorite qualities you could ever want mixed into one person.

George brought a hand up and scratched at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he'd gained over the years. You couldn't believe your eyes, and furiously shook your head. In seeing this, the males eyes widened.

"Oh. That's not quite the reaction I was expecting." Plane ticket in hand and luggage beside him, he winced. "Though I can't exactly say much, due to my being missing on the media." He sighed, a small crease forming between his brows. "Whenever you catch your breath, you could tell me if I'm welcome or not; I suppose." He wasn't trying to sound rude in the slightest, but it was cold outside and his only jacket was tucked deep inside his suitcase. When his eyes met with yours, he could see the tears that cling to the tips of your lashes, and it pierced his heart. The need to cry was strong for him as well, yet he prepared for such a moment, and would let all of his emotions be released later when he need not be as calm. Suddenly, you lurched forward and wrapped your arms around his upper body. Your chin rested upon his shoulder, and he could feel your hair cling to his cheek in the cold. He smiled once more, unable to keep it from growing in both size and happiness as he brought his arms around you.

"It's been too long," you sobbed, tears slipping down your cheeks without stop. The feeling of being with your lover once again, well, it was a blessing altogether. You couldn't bring yourself to let go, too afraid he'd slip from your grasp and be lost for good. A light chuckled escaped from the man as he was the first to pull away, but his hands never escaped your side.

He quirked a brow at you. "Is this alright?" He questioned, slightly cocking his head to the side.

"Yes, of course," you confirmed, although you misunderstood his question. His head dove in and his lips pressed against your own. Soft and warm, with a nostalgic feeling that satisfied all your pestering needs. You yelped at first, but never led your lips away from his. His smile was unhidden against your own, which had formulated off of his. A hand found it's way from your waist to your cheek, and created the passionate spark that alit a fire inside of you.

When the two of you managed to separate, it was hard to catch your breath. Overwhelming was what a situation such as this one could be described as; yet your happiness overcame any negative emotion, and pulled you from the depression you sat amongst only minutes ago.

"I missed you so much," he whispered. The hand against your cheek let go and was met with your own hand. He intertwined your fingers, and your heart melted at his touch; like old times.

"I missed you too, George."