I was happy enough already cause there was only an hour left and I could finally go home and sleep. But when I saw that George texted me my happiness quadrupled.

57 minutes left woooo

I chuckle at his text. I'm kinda sad that his sleep schedule is this messed up and he's awake at 5 a.m., but the selfish side of me is glad that he is. And not to mention that he's counting the minutes till I get back.

did you sleep at all?

He was livestreaming when I left the house 8 hours ago. It's a pointless question cause I'm obsessed with him enough to know that if he sleeps, he sleeps for more than 12 hours. Which means he's been awake this whole time.

nope :]

See, I knew it.

:[

turn that frown upside down

]:

idiot

I laugh. It's a single word, it's an insult, but it still makes me laugh because I imagine him saying it with a laugh.

should I come and steal you from work?🤔🤔

He says this all the time and I find it very cute. We both know that even if he shows up, nobody's gonna let me go home if it's not an emergency. But he thinks of himself as a powerful being that is capable of anything.

We text for another 10 minutes. And 15 more minutes after we finish texting, finally the other bartender arrives. This means I can go home.

It's still somewhat dark outside and extremely cold. As soon as I leave the bar, I start walking as fast as I can on the heels I'm wearing. And to keep myself warm, I keep repeating in my head that I'm so hot that the cold fears me.

I had a fun time ignoring my that phone had been buzzing in my hand on and off for a few seconds already. But when it starts buzzing constantly, I have no other choice than to check it. Someone is calling, and that someone is George.

"Yeah?" I'm confused. Maybe he needed something from the store.

I hear footsteps and heavy breathing through the line before he finally speaks.

"Why are you walking so fast?"

The way I could hear his voice both through the line and behind me makes me stop and end the call. He's actually here.

"You're crazy! I laugh as he tries to catch his breath, "What are you doing here?"

"How are you so fast on those?" George points at my shoes.

"How are you so slow in those?" He's wearing airforces.

"I'm old, okay?" George laughs. His laugh is the cutest thing in this entire world.

"You very well could be my dad, actually."

I'm not sure what crossed my mind when I said that. I wanted to joke about the fact that I don't know who my dad is and George is old so he could be my dad- yeah, another stupid joke from me that goes horribly wrong, nobody's surprised.

The look of realization mixed with a forced back smirk on George's face says it all.

"Well..." he can't even hold back the smirk anymore.

"Not like that.." I try to make it better, but the damage is already done.

Whatever, let's just move on.

We're walking back home and George is telling me about the meetup that is happening tomorrow. Apparently he's leaving with Nick for a day and I have to tolerate Clay. Well, I don't really mind him to be fair, I'm more worried that his heart will explode cause he has an Anastasia intolerance.

"He promised to behave," George mentions. I find it hard to believe that Clay would promise something like that. He's more likely to say that he doesn't care and nobody can tell him what to do.

"I'm gonna be at work half of the day and asleep the other, I think we're good," I laugh, "unless he murders me in my sleep, of course."

"If he starts being annoying just call me," George stops as we're almost at the apartment building.

"Enjoy your time, George. Everything's gonna be fine," I don't want to make a fuss about it, "I think I'm the one annoying him most of the time."

"Oh stop it, you're incapable of being annoying."

It's sweet that he thinks that. But he's only saying that because of how different I am with him. If you ask Clay, I'm the embodiment of the word annoying. And I'm not making that up, I'm literally repeating the words he said to me when I asked him to leave the room so I can change.

"So when are you leaving?" I change the topic.

We're in a quiet place right by our apartment building. And the sun is about to rise.

"Tomorrow evening. Well, not tomorrow, today already," he corrects himself.

I'll probably be asleep when they leave, then I'll get up and come back to work. My routine life never sounded so perfect before.

"Alrighty," I smile, "should we go home? I'm tired."

I watch George's eyes travel down my face and land on my lips. The butterflies in my stomach go crazy from the way he's looking at me, but his stare is way too obvious this time.

"Yeah, you had a long night I see."

He looks back at my eyes and sees the confusion in them. I didn't quite get the connection between his words and the lasting gaze on my lips.

"Wait, really?" I chuckle, "Do I look that bad?"

"Noo, it's just your lipstick is almost gone," he explains, "you bite your lips when you're nervous or stressed."

Despite the cold, I evaporate. I'm sure I'm blushing cause I can't help but freak out inside that he paid attention to my body language and actually noticed that the red lipstick that's always so prominent on my face is almost gone.

Instead of saying anything I look at him like an idiot and start biting my lips unironically. I'm not even creative enough to change the topic and draw the attention away from my lips. I wait for him to hopefully offer to go home, but instead, he comes up with a different offer.

"Don't you wanna watch the sunrise before we go? I know it's cold, but it's not every day you see a view like that."

My brain resets from the change of topic, and I put myself back together.

"Well, I do see it almost every day," I laugh, "so it's not that special to me."

Every time I come home from work, I see the sunrise. And it gets more and more boring each time.

"It's all about making it special," George steps closer to me and I feel his hands touching mine, "if you want to, of course."

I look at his face. I get goosebumps observing his features under the barely-there rays of the sun. How can someone be so perfect.

I'm tired of waiting and torturing myself. Our faces are close enough and almost on the same level, it's unreal how perfect everything is. I smile and brush my fingers against his warmer ones.

George leans closer, leaving enough space for me to make the final decision. And without even doubting it, without overthinking and letting the moment slide like the past few times, I cut the distance. His soft lips contrasting with the rough stubble bordering them sends chills down my spine. And when he deepens the kiss, I feel the chills even on the ends of my hair.

I couldn't ask for anything more perfect. The kiss was something out of a fairytale. And when we pulled away and the warm-toned rays of the sun highlighted his face, I was sure. I just kissed someone out of a fairytale.