🌺 12 ; bacon rolls 🌺

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hayley's pov ; next day, 10:16am

last night left me wanting more. so much fucking more. and i'm my own worst enemy, because part of my fun is teasing george: but i can't get any further on unfinished desires alone.

i finish brushing my teeth, spit out the foamy toothpaste and wipe my face on a towel. i walk over to my makeup brush, pulling out my tube of foundation, but-- fuck it. i'll go makeup-free today. my skin is clear anyway... except for the millions of freckles all over it. i was insecure about my freckles all through high school (there isn't a square. fucking. centimeter of my face that isn't covered) but that was last year. madison and her bitch army aren't here to judge me now. i've heard she works at an asda in tranent.

snorting, i walk through to the front room barefoot. oh my god, can i smell...?

"BACON?!" i screech, sprinting through to the warm kitchen. i'm greeted with an alarmed george holding a frying pan over the hob. with bacon in it. "OH MY GOD, THERE'S BACON!"

"yep, bacon," he laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me into him. i giggle, shoving him in the arm. "want some?"

"hells yes bitch. let's get this bread."

"it'll be two minutes before it's cooked. butter a roll or something."

"oh my god, i cannot wait that long," i moan, but grab a white bread roll from the breadboard anyway. "margarine?"

"top shelf on the fridge."

opening the fridge causes a pack of strawberries to fall out on me. i manage to catch it and shove it back in. "jesus christ george. your fridge is full."

"i cook a lot," he replies simply, shrugging. i spread some margarine on my roll (i like margarine more than butter. it's so much nicer melted) and hunt around the raw wood cupboards for plates until i find one to drop it onto.

"order up," george laughs, grabbing some tongs and placing the crispy, delicious bacon on my roll. it melts the margarine on contact. god, i love bacon. more so than i like george, and that's saying something.

"what?"

"huh?"

"you just said you like bacon more than me? should i feel offended or complimented???" george says, walking over to me.

"complimented," i grin, casually running a hand along george's fragile arm. "about that." i take a deep inhale of breath, and look back at him. i bite my lip subconsciously. "want to go to victoria park with me tomorrow? they have this sick lake with all these swans. i always wanted to visit it before i moved here."

george looks at me with wide eyes. "you mean like... as a date?" he runs a hand through his curls, blushing furiously.

"of course as a date, you imbecile. what, you think i'd brozone you after last night?" i tease him, grabbing his hand and leading him out the kitchen and onto the plush couch. "i was thinking we'd go in the evening. doesn't take long to get there from here."

"sure," he replies. he beams dorkily, staring at me with twinkling eyes. his hand still in mine. it's so small, delicate. like everything else about him.

"what?"

"you're just so..."

"beautiful? incredible? intelligent?" i joke, striking a ridiculous pose. he giggles, shaking his head.

"so you. you're just so undeniably you." he finishes. his soft, dorky smile grows wider.

fuck. now i'm blushing. "th - thanks," i stumble over my words. shit. i'm supposed to do this to him, not the other way round. shit. shit. shit. "i'm going to eat my bacon roll now."

i hastily get up and scramble back into the kitchen, my face burning. 

"so much for being a flirt," george calls from behind me, chuckling. "all it takes was a shite compliment and boom, you're all blushing and lost for words."

"fuck off," i mumble.

his laughter rings out from behind me.



all i have to say is uwu

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