thirty-six hours with you | georgenotfound x reader

23. later

. hour 29 . 

I'm once again sitting in the drivers seat of my car. It was an unfortunate change for me, but I think George was relieved. He stretched his legs in the passenger seat and settled onto his phone.

We only have two hours until we reach the hotel now, but the sun is long gone. The roads are dark and there's no traffic on the road whatsoever.

"Is iHop any good?" George asks as we pass a large blue sign with eating places.

"Um." I think for a second. "Not really, well, depends on your hunger levels."

George chuckles, clicking on his phone. "It's the only option that's open at 9:30."

"In the morning or at night?"

George glances at me, then out the window to the night sky dotted with stars. "What do you think?"

"You could be planning a very nice breakfast for me," I point out.

"The hotel has a breakfast bar," George counters, "You'll enjoy it."

"I'm the one driving now," I remind him, "and I could skip the iHop exit."

He huffs and sinks into his seat. "We can do iHop now and whatever you want for breakfast."

I smile in triumph, knowing very well that I can settle for a hotel breakfast, but the idea of having anything over George counts as a win. As he said before, it's leverage.

We pull off the road, driving a few more miles before finally hitting the iHop. My phone rings while we're parking, and Quackity's profile picture appears on my phone screen.

"Do you want me to answer it?" George asks.

"No, you can get us seats inside, and I can answer whatever question he has," I reassure George.

"You sure?" His hand is already on the door handle.

"Yes, I can handle Quackity." I roll my eyes while pressing the green accept button. George shuts the door behind him, and I watch as he walks across the parking lot.

"I'm pushing my flight," Quackity says before even saying hello.

"What?" I rub the side of my right temple from the sudden information. "What do you mean?"

"I found a later flight to Florida, and I'm going to take it," he explains again.

"Why? The plan has always been for you to get there tonight."

"Well you won't be there till tomorrow, so I won't be there till tomorrow," he says simply.

I chuckle. "That's stupid."

"How is that stupid?"

"It's not the plan," I say, "and you don't need to do things based off of me and George."

"But it's only a couple hours difference from arriving at midnight tonight and nine in the morning tomorrow," Quackity argues, "Actually, those are both technically tomorrow morning if you think about it."

"I'm not getting there till later tomorrow."

"How much later?"

I glance at the clock like that'll help me. "Depends on when George and I wake up."

"Well, can it be sometime before nine."

"No because we'd have to wake up at like three in the morning to actually get there at nine with you," I say.

"Well if I arrive later"–Quackity is truly thinking this out now–"that later will still be sooner than your later, but those are closer than our arrivals are now."

"That barely made sense."

"But it still did," he counters, "just barely."

"Who's picking you up?"

"Sapnap," he answers, "Or Dream. Whoever will show up."

"At midnight?"

"For sure Sapnap."

"And at 9am?"

"Whoever's awake."

"So you haven't asked yet?" I clarify.

"Shut up." Quackity clears his throat. I hear typing fill his side of the call for a few moments before he speaks up again. "I only have twenty minutes to decide if I should change flights."

"Why aren't you just sticking with the plan?" I ask with a huff.

"Because you and George broke the plan."

"You're annoying."

"Yeah, yeah." Quackity sighs. "I'll just keep my current flight."

I smile. "Sounds good."

Quackity and I say goodbye before I head inside to sit with George. He looks up from his phone when I near the table, then he sets it down when I get there.

"I think I'm going to get the pancakes," George says, "with the chocolate chips."

My eyes glance over the coffee selections, debating if I need one to get to the hotel or not, then they flit to the pancakes.

"They have crepes." I point to the pictures.

"Why would you get crepes at iHop?" George asks, "They're known for pancakes."

I crinkle my nose. "Fine, be that way, George."

We both get chocolate chip. 

author's note:

sorry for the short chapters! i'm getting back on the writing grind i promise

thank you guys for 20k! have an amazing day <3