confessions in the snow.

happy bday ghost

It's been two days.

Two days since Angel and George have spoken.

And throughout those 48 hours, George never left Angel's mind.

Nor did she leave his.

Angel stood leant over the kitchen counter, her head resting heavily in her hands whilst she tried to push George out of her head, just for a second.

Her hot chocolate now turned cold, abandoned next to the kettle in the mug George used last time. There should be two cups of hot chocolate, two huge smiles on both of their faces.

The marshmallows melted into a gooey mess upon the surface, turning rubbery from the gelatine.

She wouldn't drink it anyway.

To the left of her, just out of eyesight was her phone. Turned face-down on the counter and pushed to the edge.

Don't pick it up.

He's not going to call.

The more you tell yourself not to do something, the more you want to do it.

Which is why Angel held her phone to her ear, George's number being dialled already. She needed to hear his voice, even if he was mad at her.

'Calling...' quickly turned into '00:01'

He picked up.

"George," Angel gripped the phone tighter, walking slowly around her kitchen as she waited for his voice to echo through her speakers.

He replied breathlessly, a sense of relief behind his voice, "Angel,"

There he is.

"Can we talk? Please?" she pleaded, quickly adding onto her question before George replied with something along the lines of 'we are already talking,' she needed to see him, "In person,"

There was a gentle hum in the background of George's call, becoming more audible in the deafening silence that hung over the call.

George finally replied, his voice slightly quieter than before, "What's there to talk about?"

What's there to talk about?!

"Don't say you're mad at me, George," Angel quickly retorted, a tang of hurt behind her irritated tone, "I was more sober than you think,"

The fact Angel remembered everything about that night, proved she was more sober than he thought.

But George still didn't believe her.

"I don't believe you," George shrugged, pacing around his own kitchen whilst Dog followed, "I watched you drink four cups worth of alcohol,"

He didn't want to fight with her, he just didn't want to get his heart broke.

Angel was now sat on her couch, her left pointer finger pressed to her left temple with stress whilst the other hand held her phone close to her ear, "Did you also see me drink all that water?"

"Doesn't mean you were completely sober,"

She shot up from the couch with sudden annoyance, running her hand through her hair as she paced around her living room, "Why can't you just be happy? Be happy that I kissed you?"

He'd be happy if she meant it, "Because you didn't mean it,"

Angel realised that he wouldn't believe her until she proved it, proved that she really wanted to kiss him, sober or not.

"So meet me. Outside the library," Angel proposed, biting down on her bottom lip, letting it turn a deep cherry red under the pressure of her front teeth, "I'll prove that I meant it, George,"

George was silent for a moment, tugging his hands through brunette curls, "Angel-,"

"Library. Ten minutes,"

Angel ended the call before George could get another word in, he'd keep arguing until Angel didn't want to see him.

Which neither of them would be able to live with.

She slipped her coat onto her shoulders, swinging her bag over the top of it, she wasn't going to waste any more time.

Angel had never left her house with that much urgency, had never ran down those stairs with such determination.

She was going to prove that she meant it.

The night laid down a blanket of darkness on the city, when Angel tilted her head skyward she could see clearly millions of tiny snowflakes raining down.

Despite the darkness of the streets, she ran straight towards the library.

After navigating through swarms of people desperately trying to get home to their families, Angel arrived at the library.

George could be seen in the distance, wrapped tightly up in his winter coat as he smiled weakly at the blonde.

"Are you just going to kiss me and that'll be the end of it?" he spoke raspingly, his eyes starting to fill with water, "You'll kiss me just for the sake of ending whatever happened that night?"

Simply at the sight of George's tearful eyes, Angel's eyes started to water, "Don't be like that, George,"

The snow became heavier, falling heavier down on the two of them.

His lips trembled, stuttering his words, whether that was from the cold or the tears in his eyes was unknown, "I'm sorry but- that's what it feels like,"

"You think I kissed you out of what? Pity?"

"Yes," George replied simply with a gentle shrug of his shoulders, "I tried to kiss you after the date and you pulled away. Now you feel bad,"

It made sense for him to think that, but it was far from the truth.

Angel took a step forward, holding his shaking hand in between hers, "George I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you,"

The warmth of her hands was comforting to George, but it felt wrong.

He withdrew his hands from hers, shuffling back slightly, "Angel, please. I want you to be honest,"

Angel reached up to press her lips onto his, feeling him lean in further when she pulled away.

"How's that for honest?" she mumbled against his lips, slowly stepping backwards to extend the distance.

"Angel-,"

It was all too much for George.

He needed to think, no matter how much he wanted things back to normal.

He needed to think.

George turned around with trembling legs, starting to walk back the way he had came.

"I love you," Angel froze. She froze despite the snow cascading down on her. She froze despite not having an umbrella. She froze.

"Say that again?" George whispered, his head tilting ever so slightly to look at her through half-lidded eyes, "Please say it again,"

"I love you," Angel repeated, this time louder, clearer, "I love you. I love your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle when you read something you like, the way you treat books with so much care and delicacy. I love you. I love you," she gasped, the grip on her bag tightening.

Angel was sobbing now and the urge to look away grew strong, but she couldn't, shouldn't. The snow showed no signs of ceasing, if anything it grew stronger with each declaration of love that left her lips.

Never had she ever appreciated the snow more.

Though it failed to hide her shaking shoulders and quivering lips, it did hide the flow of tears that left her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

George finally turned to look at Angel, and she took note of the smile that graced his lips. She could not make out whether it reached his eyes or not, for everything was blurry due to tears.

He started to walk back towards Angel, his shoulders shaking from his irregular breaths. He stopped in front of her, shakily taking her cheeks into his hands.

"I love you. I love you so much it hurts to breathe. I love you so much that I already accepted the fact that you can never be mine. I love you so much that I took to loving you in silence,"

They were both sobbing now, tears of pure happiness.

The snow continued to descend onto the two of them, but they didn't care. They were the only two people in the world.

No cars dragged along the tarmac, no shoes scuffed against the iced pavement. The streets were empty, to them at least.

It was just the two of them.

George cupped her rose-dusted cheeks tighter, crashing his lips onto hers. Salty tears rolled down their cheeks whilst cherry mixed with strawberry, a flavour George had craved ever since he first kissed her.

At that moment, George questioned the books he had read.

They all describe first kisses weirdly. Fireworks? Why fireworks?

He questioned the books he had read for he felt no fireworks in his stomach.

In fact, George didn't feel. He heard.

He heard sweet melodies being played. He heard the joyful keys of the piano, the lovely strings of the violin.

He heard her sweet confession of his love to him.

It truly was the most wonderful time of the year.

Giggles i love this chapter