YOU'RE MY LONDON | gnf x reader

OLD [Chapter 18]

After a matter of time, you begged for the police to bring you to George, and you slept on the hospital bed next to him for the night.

*   *

A nurse had woken you up early, as it was time for her to check on George. Immediately after letting go of George, his heartbeat became faster and sweat could be seen forming. The nurse called for another doctor and you grabbed George's hand. It was warm and slightly sweaty. His heartbeat's speed decreased, the sweat slowing to a stop. You furrowed your eyebrows, taking your hand away for only a moment. His heartbeat sped up again and you held his hand again. The speed lowered and your eyes widened. Why was George only stable when you were touching him? Did he know you were there? As silly as it sounded, it might actually be true. The doctor was called in, and you told him about the situation. He asked you to show him and you did. Once again, George's heart sped up for the moment your touch was gone but came back to a normal speed once you put your hand with his. Of course, seeing this, the doctor kept you in the room with George. You didn't mind it as you were given permission to spend every moment of your time with him.

*   *

"Hm. Let's see. I think I could make a fundraiser for you, yeah? I'll contribute my money as well to help pay for the hospital bills and fix your house. Do you think it'll be okay to ask your mom?" You rambled on, asking George a million questions. All you got in reply was a soft exhale of breath.

Your phone went off again, vibrating. It got so bad last night that you had to turn off notifications. If you got any, your phone would only vibrate. Why not just check your phone? Truthfully, you were scared. Scared to see who called, to see your social media accounts. You were scared to talk to the people closest to you about it. About George, about his house, his pets, his scars, his health. You pulled your phone from your pocket and looked to see who was calling. It was Clay. Pulling yourself together, you answered and raised the phone to ear.

"Hello? Y/N?" A muffled voice spoke through the speakers. Part of you felt relieved to hear his voice.

"Hey. It's me," you answered. He sighed, also relieved. The tips of your mouth curved up just barely. 

"How are you?" He asked, his voice flowing with care. 

"Scared," you chuckled, "not the best, obviously." You were the tiniest bit surprised he asked how you were first.

"Yeah. Is George okay?" 

A small silence stretched between the two of you, though you were miles away. When you didn't answer, he started to assume the worst.

"He-he's not dead, is he?" You could hear his voice falter and you sucked in a chunk of air, ignoring the tears that were resting on your lashes.

"N-no, not dead. He's burned and scarred. And asleep. That's a-all," you stuttered, glancing at George. He looked shaken up, unlike before. You noted to keep watch of him. His breathing seemed a little off and his grasp on your hand became tighter. "He's... Something's wrong." Your voice was strong, full of concern. Clay cleared his throat, about to say something. You could feel it in your gut, something wasn't right with George. 

"Y/N, what's he doing?" Clay shuffled in his spot, probably anxious. 

"His grip on my hand became tighter, he looks worried, his breathing isn't slowed, it's picking up just barely," you explained, staring at George. You heard a groan from him and your eyes widened. "Did- did you hear that?!" 

"No? What happened?" He pressed the phone against his ear, urgently waiting for an answer.

"He made a noise- I think he's waking up. Wait, his injuries. It's too soon!" You shook George softly. His eyes opened and he looked directly at you. He smiled, which then turned into a sour expression, filled with pain.

"That hurts- like a lot," he winced, moving around to get a better view of you. You gently pushed him down, ending your call with Clay. Clay would probably be angry whenever you called back, but George was more important at the moment. George allowed you to push him down, too sore to fight back. "Y/N? You're okay." Another soft smile broke out, though he was trying not to frown from the pain.

"George, it's okay. You need to calm down and breathe. I'm right here," you whispered, using your thumb to rub his knuckles. He nodded and took a few deep breaths. You smiled, putting your phone away. George glanced at the door and sudden, loud yelling could be heard. You followed his gaze to the door and a shadow passed through the hall. The door burst open. You gasped.