Eyes Bright, Uptight {EDITING}

//tell me how does it feel//

Claire nodded her pretty little face and followed me into my bedroom. The notion of sliding into some pajama bottoms for good measure crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it, not finding the energy for it.

Claire bent over, unzipping her boots, and I bit my lip and looked away. She really shouldn't wear leggings so much.

My body flopped onto the middle of my bed, arms sprawled out. Claire seated herself next to me, the warmth of her thighs radiating against my side as her lower back rested comfortably against my arm.

"Do you want me to make you some tea, Georgie?" she asked me.

I nodded. "In a bit."

She brought her wrist to my forehead once more, her pretty face looking striken and worried.

"Poor baby," she said.

My lips smirked as her scent came into my nostrils, putting me at ease. She always smelled like some kind of cupcakes or frosting. It was quite fitting, because I wanted to eat her.

I'd kept that to myself, though, and had been for quite a while. My feelings for her were a giant, jumbled mess. I loved her, I was annoyed with her, I missed her, I thought she was a dork, I wanted to cuddle with her, I wanted to make love to her, I wanted to show her the new Drake album because it was so lit.

She was happy with Matty, and very much in love with him. My mate had seemed to have turned a new leaf; he was so obsessed with her he barely noticed the other girls flocking to him. And there were lots of them.

He had been cool with Harper, which came as a great surprise to me. Harper was never my favorite; she was always so self-aborbed, so pretentious, always wanting to fuck everything she saw and have at least three mild-altering chemicals running through her brain at once. She was Matty with tits. Nonetheless, she was a great sound check and knew her shit. The effects she was using were out of this world, and I was glad Matty had gotten over himself.

"Noelle asked me to move in with her," I said as Claire brushed my hair out of my face.

My forehead was sweating in a fever now.

"And?" Claire eyed me, continuing to stroke my hair.

She was making me so sleepy, as she yawned herself.

"And I told her I thought we should break up," I said, my voice hoarse.

Claire batted her long lashes. "Really, George!?"

I shrugged. "I don't love her, Claire. I'm wasting her time."

Claire sighed, her lips pouting at me like I was a lost puppy.

She handed me a water bottle from my nightstand and encouraged me to drink my fluids.

My body felt like complete shit, but my spirits were soaring, relieved, weightless. Noelle was heartbroken, and part of me felt guilty, but the bigger part of me, the part that was Good Guy George, knew she deserved better than a shitty boyfriend who didn't love her. Maybe we'd be friends someday.

Granted, she had smacked me across the face so hard that my teeth nearly loosened when I told her I wanted to break up.

But maybe someday.

She had also rambled on about how I was in love with Claire and how pathetic it was.

That, I had no comment to.

"You did the right thing. No sense in stringing her along," Claire said, scooting a little closer to me.

"You're going to get this vile death too, if you get any closer to me," I murmured, my fingers cusping her hip a little.