We spent half an hour talking about how George had figured out his sexuality, and how I'd figured out mine. Then I drove George to the café so he could take care of things as he was selling the property to focus on the streaming I was helping him with.
I'd just arrived home, and there was one thing I had on my mind; I had to call Nick.
He picks up straight away, which is surprising. "Hi, Nick." I sit on the edge of my bed, nervously tapping my fingers on my knee.
"What's up?" He sounds sleepy, so I'm guessing he only just woke up. Which was confusing, considering it was almost 8PM.
"Did you see George's tweet earlier?"
"Yes, I did." I could hear movement on his side of the call, so he was probably driving right now. "Oh my god- How does this idiot even have a license?!" Yep, that confirmed my assumptions.
"Okay, so, I know it's only been a week..." I fall backwards, landing on the soft mattress.
"I already know what this is about-"
"I love George. I'm in love with him." It feels good to be saying it. I find myself smiling, and my heart speeding up a bit from thinking about George. George, the boy I'm in love with. The boy who stole my heart in only a week.
"I know. Anyone can tell, it's pretty obvious." His words made me panic a bit. Did that mean that George already knew?
"Do you think George realized?" I lift my arm up to my face, scratching at my skin anxiously.
"No, you two are both massive idiots." He chuckles quietly afterwards and the call falls silent as I try to gather my thoughts a bit.
"What?"
"He definitely hasn't realized yet." That makes quite a lot of my worries disappear. I allow a sigh of relief to escape my parted lips.
"Should I tell him?" The question I've been silently asking myself for the past few days. Ever since I realized that the way I felt about George was different than how I felt about my other friends like Nick.
"Yes, you definitely should."
"What if he doesn't like me like that? And we stop being friends...?" I stop myself from asking the other questions that plague my mind... What if he hates me?
"Trust me, that won't happen. Tell him." He seems confident with what he says, which helps to reassure me a bit.
"Okay... I'll do it tomorrow." I sit up on the bed and look out of the window, watching the sparkling stars that scattered the darkness of the night sky.
"Sounds good. Good luck. Try not to mess it up."
"Shut up." He laughs and I join in with the laughter. We say our goodbyes and I hang up, then throw my phone into my hoodie pocket.
Tomorrow would be the day. Dog hops onto the bed, curling up in my lap. I pick him up and sway him in my arms. "I hope he feels the same way..." I say to no one in particular. Maybe Dog, or maybe just my own thoughts.
I sigh and stand up, then head down the stairs. It had been half an hour since I left George at the café, and I wanted to check up on him. It definitely wasn't because I missed him.
Of course not.
It isn't long before I'm in my car, on the farmiliar road to George's café. Well, it won't be his café for much longer. It's a shame... I really enjoyed seeing him in a maid dress...
I laugh at myself for my stupid thoughts. Before I know it, I'm parked in front of the building that I've been to more times that I can count.
The sign on the door says it's closed, and the smallest amount of light is visible from the windows. I step out of my car, locking it behind me, then walk up to the door.
The sound of the bell ringing that I've heard way too many times fills the room. "George?" I call out into the silent café. There's no response, so I walk through the door to the back rooms.
"George?"
I hear shuffling through one door, so I slightly open it, and see George. He looks at me through the small gap between the door and the doorframe.
A shy smile is present on his face. He's stood in front of a mirror, with his maid dress on. I open the door more, slipping inside, then closing it behind me.
"What are you doing?" My voice is calm and George glances back into the mirror. We make eye contact through the reflection.
"I'm going to miss wearing this..." I move behind him and wrap my arms around him. We both stare at each other in the reflection.
"Who said you can't keep wearing it?"
He turns his head to look at me, his soft cheek brushing against mine in the process. It leaves a warm feeling across my face. "What do you mean?"
"You can still wear it at home. Nobody's stopping you." He giggled at my statement and places his hands over mine.
"Yeah, cause you're into it." He smirks. His statement isn't wrong. George is hot, and the maid dress makes him even hotter.
"And what if I am?"