PRETTY BOY, george karim x reader

| 004 | breakfast crepes

vote and comment! ik this took forever to get out, sorry<3 incredibly short chapter because i needed to rush to get it out

You were having quite the eventful dream before you woke up, the sun boring into your eyes -- even though they weren't open. Your first reaction was to screw up your face and bury yourself under the covers, but the light illuminating the room didn't seem to like that idea. That didn't stop you from turning over, however, until your nose was pressed against the pillow and you could barely breathe.

Most of the time, you preferred silence. Silence was practically heaven for you, seeing as back with Jacobs there never seemed to be a moment without chatter. Birds chirped, and instead of adoring the sound, you groaned. How early was it? Certainly not very late, seeing as the birds were practically screaming in your ears. You glared at the windows, wishing the curtains would magically draw. 

Ignoring how hot you were under all the sheets, you scrunched your eyes closed once more. Maybe, if you were lucky, you'd fall back into a peaceful sleep and be awoken in many hours. Maybe, if you were lucky, you'd wake up the next morning. 

You rolled over, unaware that George was standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs. He hadn't been there for long, but it was a wonder how you hadn't heard his footsteps. You put one leg over the blanket -- with your eyes still shut -- and flipped your pillow so that your head would be resting on the cold side. 

George cleared his throat, tapping his foot against the floor to gain your attention. He waited until you had noticed him to speak. 

"Uh, it's half past ten." He shifted on his feet, and from where you were laying, you could faintly see his gaze flicker from you to the ground multiple times. "Thought you'd want to be awake."

He thought wrong. If anything, you wanted to sleep all day, and only get up the next morning. That would be the dream, but seeing him stand idly, you curled your lip and stared up at the ceiling, dragging yourself out of bed no more than a moment later. 

You stretched and yawned, but managed to haul yourself to your dresser. Rummaging around the smallest drawer, you pulled out an oversized shirt. Usually you'd wear it to bed, but yesterday you were lazy and left it for now. You draped it over your shoulder and looked around the drawer beneath it until you found a loose pair of pants. That, too, you draped over your shoulder. 

George rocked on his heels as he waited, watching you curiously. 

You searched around for your undergarments, smiling in triumph when you found your socks, too. Spinning, you tossed the clothes onto the bed and, when you were certain none of them had fallen onto the floor, turned to look at George. It was quite obvious that he wanted to continue on with what he was saying, but couldn't find the right words. 

You propped a hand on your hip, motioning with the other for him to proceed.

"I made eggs, if you want to eat," he said. "Um, I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." 

Without saying anything more, he whirled around -- and with that, he was gone. 

You took the time without anyones presence to glare at the sky, squinting your eyes to look at the sun with frustration. It was days like this that you wished for clouds -- it was days like this you were irritated, and would do anything for a wink of sleep. 

When you had finished silently cussing out the world, you rolled onto your mattress, crawling to the edge in order to retrieve the clothes you had thrown. If it meant you would get to eat sooner, perhaps you should have kept them in your arms. You were terribly hungry, and your dry throat practically begged to be watered down.