PRETTY BOY, george karim x reader

| 005 | library, research & arif's café

YES CHAPTER FIVE!!!!! vote and comment, love ya<3

You did mind, in fact - but you didn't have the courage to reject him. The whole point of going to the library (in pyjamas, no less) was to escape the tension. George, however, didn't seem to pick up on the hint you so desperately wished he did.

And so here you were, walking side by side with him in utter silence. The street was bustling, as you assumed it would be, seeing as it was such a big city. People rushed past you, eager to get along with their day.

Despite not knowing where the library was, you trailed a step behind George so he could lead you there. It was much easier that way, anyway, than admitting the only reason you claimed to be going to the library was that so you didn't have to be with him. If you did... well, he'd likely not speak with you for a good amount of time. Though you wouldn't really mind if he didn't, it was better to stay acquaintances -- at least without the awkward conversations -- with someone you worked with.

George stopped suddenly, and you nearly bumped into him. "You are aware we're in the complete opposite direction of where we were supposed to go, right?"

You blinked, coming to the conclusion that he probably figured out you were completely lost by now. "Um, no." You looked up from the ground to make eye contact. "I didn't really- I mean, I wasn't paying attention."

He raised a brow and shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's all?"

"Mhm, yep." You nodded. "That's all."

You were glad George turned, brushing off the little interaction you had. He definitely knew that you had lied to him, but you were grateful that he saved from (even more) embarrassment.

The walk wasn't long after that, a few minutes at most.

You arrived at the library (at least that's what you thought, seeing as you had never seen it before). There was a second floor, probably, seeing as there were giant glass panes that made the taller side of the buildings. It was a dark grey, but you didn't really mind. From the way you came, it read The British Archives, in big, bold letters.

Expecting to go through the front -- if it was the front, you weren't sure -- you were surprised George led you through the side. From that way, at least, you could see the bright trees and blue sky. Benches lined up on the side of the wall, but only a few before there eventually was no more.

You stood a moment, staring in awe. It wasn't everyday you could find such dull building sat in the middle of a park, surround by awfully vivid colours.

George tugged on your arm, rolling his eyes and motioning for you to follow him. You did, reluctantly, and when you finally made it inside, you were even more awestruck. It felt like something out of a book -- something only dreamers would wish to be in the presence of.

Your feet dragged across the tiled flooring, making a click clack sound. It was kind of funny, how everyone who walked in the corridor made the sound even louder, but chose to ignore it.

Paintings lined the side of the hall, each framed and hidden behind glass. You didn't understand why they did that. The only people who worried about art were the one who painted it, seeing as everyone else's mind was occupied by The Problem, even though practically fifty years past since it started.

You ripped your gaze from the wall, tilting your head when George stopped walking. You hadn't noticed the librarian, or so you assumed her to be, but he was talking with her. The woman could have been in her mid-forties, maybe, with her blond hair stuck to her head in a tight bun. You tuned out of the conversation, though you weren't listening in the first place.