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21.) 𝙎𝙪𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙣 𝙆𝙞𝙙𝙨

*y'all I can't with the P.O.V changes. Should I keep switching or nah? Maiba naman dibuh.

No Particular P.O.V

People have always been such curious cases. Stuck between the past and a hope for a future. Such is Georgie and Y/n.

Y/n's P.O.V

I'm sat on my porch swing as I read, reminiscing the night Georgie and I had just about a week ago. The dance, the atmosphere, everything. I find myself humming the same song we slow danced to, as funny as it sounds. I chuckle fondly as I remember the smallest of details.

I continue to silently read the small book at hand. 'In the cold gray dawn the sisters lit their lamp and read their chapter with an earnestness never felt-' *beep beeeeeeppp*

A familiar honk pulls me from my reading as I look up to see Georgie sat in his truck (author's side note: did I write truck as Georgie's mode of transportation or nah? I literally forgot lmao). I smile at him as I retire my book to only rush over.

"And what is a handsome fellow like you doing out here this early?" I ask him, half-joking and half-sincere.

"Patrollin', makin' sure you're sleepin' well." He says with a light chuckle.

"Okay, weirdo." I reply rolling my eyes as he opens the passenger seat door for me to enter. I oblige. Once I sit, he floors the gas and we drive around the block. His truck is surprisingly clean for once and I smile softly.

"You cleaned your truck?" I ask, turning to him.

"I-I did. You like it?"

"It's great, it's nice. It's neat." I snort. "Did you do this for me?"

"'Course I did. Since when did I ever clean anythin'?"

I only smile softly at his reply as the radio plays surprisingly romantic tunes. Everything between Elvis Presley and Bill Cosby, it played and loud. My eyebrows furrow slightly, and Georgie notices.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, his voice ever southern and ever caring. "Not a lot, no." I reply with a shake of my head.

"There's somethin' wrong. You're doin' that thing with your eyebrows." I'm surprised he notices such small details. He remembers the smallest of details.

"What? That? Everyone does that, what do you mean?"

"Nah, nah. You're different. Your eyes do it too." He says so confidently, so surely. It sucks to admit, but he's right. "I guess." I manage to sigh as I lean into the leather seat of the truck, the seatbelt loosening a bit as I do so.

"So, tell me what's on that mind of yours." He says, keeping his eyes on the road but his attention on me.

"Just the songs. Interesting stuff." I say, being as vague as possible. Georgie of course sees right through me. "You're killin' me, Y/n. C'mon girl." He implores me to expound on my words as I look at him. Eyes still on the road, attention still on me.

"Reminds me of my parents." I simply say, Georgie opens his mouth to likely apologize. His sweeter nature taking ahold of him. But before he says anything else, I interrupt "It's okay. I can...I can share this. It's been a long time." Taking a deep breath, I ready myself for this whole rollercoaster of an explanation.

"Elvis was playing on the radio, my sister and I were awake when we got the news. Our parents got into that stupid accident," I huff a breath as I continue "Some drunk guy hit their car and of course they were driving it. Went off-road and just...sigh gone." I swallow back some form of repression, my hands sweating at the newly open information I've been holding back.

"Jesus Christ." I hear Georgie mutter next to me, his yes turning to me every once in a while. I notice his hands tighten around the wheel. "You...God, are you okay?" He manages to stutter out.

"Yeah, yeah I've been better. I'm trying to be better." My voice shakes at this slightly, my tone softer than it had been just about an hour ago.

"Y/n, I'm glad you're here." He says out of the blue. My eyes snap toward him as he continues to speak. "Really. I mean, Jesus, you've been through hell." I nod at him with a soft chuckle, still trying to keep the mood light.

"Yeah. Well, I've got the feeling you've got something in there too, Georgie."

"Not as shit as yours, I'll give you that." He sighs, eyes now laser focused on the road.

"Everybody's got something."

He sighs again, taking a glance at me before he starts to talk again. "I'm unplanned. I'm the eldest, I'm like a southern Cameron Frye to Sheldon's Ferris Bueler." He scoffs "Always fussin' over him. He's like a saint or somethin'. I mean, I love the guy to bits, he's my brother. But sometimes I wanna be part of my family too." He explains, almost in one breath. I stay silent, only nodding and listening to whatever he had to say. I reach out my hand to rest on his lap as I give him a soft pat. Some way to tell him I'm here. He smiles and reaches for my hand, leaving one on the steering wheel and one on my knuckles. "Everybody's got somethin.'"

a/n: fr I'm so tired. But I'm picking up the pace on this book. Grammarly's gonna have a field day.