Make Me a Smoothie - Georgenotfound x Reader

Chapter 6 - Did We

-Did We-

I woke up, feeling like absolute shit. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, my body hurt. I didn't know what time it was. I didn't know where I was. Wait. Holy fuck. I didn't know where I was. I jolted up realizing I was alone in someone's bed. I looked around the room, quickly recognizing it was George's. YouTube play buttons on the wall. United Kingdom Flag. Checks out. I looked down at what I was wearing. George's clothes. Fuck. Did we... Where is he. Shit. We couldn't have. I don't remember anything. The last thing I remember is him... Him telling me I'm pretty. Awh. That's kinda sweet. Wait... Fuck.

I heard a noise from on the other side of the bed. Something on the floor. I peered over, only to see George sleeping on a makeshift bed. Two pillows underneath him, a tiny blanket covering him. He was basically in a ball to fit under the blanket. It's sweet that he gave me his bed.

Coincidentally, he rolled over and opened his eyes while I was looking at him. I was staring at him, to be fair. When he noticed me, a smile emerged on his face.

"Guh mornin. You look cute."

I blushed, realizing that he was referring to the fact that I was wearing his clothes. I was suddenly nervous that we had actually done something I couldn't remember.

"George..." I started, really hesitantly, not making eye contact. "Did- did we... you know..."

He immediately shifted out of his morning sleepiness to reassure me.

"What? No, no. You were just so drunk- I didn't want you to be by yourself- I just wanted you to be comfortable- I thought you'd be better off in my bed, so I took the floor."

I let out a sigh of relief, and his expression softened. I rolled back to where I was laying this morning. I looked down at the oversized black t-shirt I was wearing. I don't remember putting these on. I'm not wearing a bra... He was sitting up now, and could sense my confusion.

"About the clothes. You spilled the rest of the Fireball on yourself, so I gave you clothes to change into."

I smelled my skin. It smelled like cinnamon. I groaned and palmed my forehead. I missed so much of the night. I flipped to my stomach and buried my face in my arms.

"I blacked for part of the night, dude."

"Obviously. You were nearly gone even before you got your hands on the Fireball."

He got up off the floor and flopped onto the bed beside me, staring up at the ceiling. In shame, I looked over to him,

"Thanks for taking care of me last night, stupid."

He looked towards me smiling. I could see him studying my face as I studied his. He looked back at the ceiling, still smiling.

"Yeah, you might've died if I didn't take care of you. You're lucky I was there." I laughed at him.

"I hope I didn't do or say anything I regret."

He started uncontrollably laughing. I sat up, confused. I started talking again, concerned now.

"What! Did I?"

He erupted into harsher laughter. I stared at him, mouth open and smiling until he started talking.

"No, no. Nothing you regret. Things for later."

I furrowed my brows at him. He just sat there smiling. I flipped over to my back, staring at the ceiling with him now.

"Well, at least I didn't throw up," I said quietly. He began laughing again.

"OH MY GOD NO I DIDN'T!" I hid my face in my hands.