the long game / gr63

chapter twenty-seven

— TALIA —

After the most amazing experience that was Hogwarts at Christmas, George and I decided to walk around Watford. Google had found the most interesting thing about the town to be its football club, so I had low expectations. The town centre was... cute, and quaint. It had a couple of stores here and there, and most importantly, it had a restaurant that was apparently famous for its hot chocolate.

George pulled me aside into the restaurant, finding us a cosy table near a fireplace. He even went so far as to pull my chair out for me before I could do so myself. I shimmied out of my jacket, tucking it around the back of the chair.

Minutes later, our hot chocolates arrived, steaming under our noses. "I'm guessing with the new year upon us you have to start preparing for next season, right?" I asked slowly, blowing on the beverage before me. It caused an indent in the perfect dollop of whipped cream on top of it.

"We never stop preparing, love," George said with a soft shake of his head. "But if you're wondering if I'll be at the HQ more often, then yes. And I'll be doubling my training sessions with Aleix."

I hummed. "Do you ever get overwhelmed? With how much you have to do?"

"Of course," George said honestly. "But I have a great team behind me who help me when that's the case. We have a specially trained psychologist who I see every month at least, sometimes every other week."

That struck a chord in me. I'd never considered talking to someone, going to therapy. But if someone like George, someone so successful, one of the strongest people I knew both physically and mentally, felt like he needed it, then maybe it wasn't a bad idea to look into booking a consultation.

I wasn't sure how my parents would react. I laughed at myself, realising that my parents wouldn't even so much as approve of whatever this was that I had with George. I loved them, I really did, but they were quite... close-minded sometimes. I hadn't really been allowed to date back in South Africa, not as casually as I did when I moved out.

My aunt and uncle, however, loved George. And that still filled up my heart with warmth. I leaned over the table to pick up George's hand and give it a soft squeeze. I drew in a breath, suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling. I didn't want this to end...

All we had left, now that the list was completed, was the wedding. What would happen after that?

"Hey," George pulled me out of my inner world by tapping the back of my hand. "You with me?"

"Sorry, I was..." I trailed off, exhaling softly. "Just thinking."

"What about?" George tilted his head to the side, patiently waiting for me to respond while still stroking my hand, his other lifting his mug to his lips. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. When he set the mug back down, there was whipped cream on the tip of his nose.