George changed.
Carla doesn't know when it happened, how or even where, but he has. He's not the same man she fell in love with five years ago.
Lando's the one who noticed first, the thought whispered to her when George had plucked the wine out of...
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I can't help it, the excited grin that falls onto my face when I hear George's key rattle into the front door. My slipper-clad feet pad (or more like slap) towards the door, tipping half my body out of the kitchen to see down the hallways so I don't miss him for a second. Excitement is filling every inch of me at the prospect of the sight of him.
Then the door falls open and I'm beaming.
He's here! George is here! Back home!
It's been ten days without seeing him and everything rushes over me with a one second look at his face. I'm completely overwhelmed. George is smiling, a large black suitcase on four wheel following him inside and hold-all hooked on his shoulder, both of which he dumps at the door, kicking the dark wood closed carelessly before rushing toward me. The excitement radiates from him just as it does from me.
"Carls!" George beams in a cheer and I feel like a puppy who's owner has just returned after weeks away. I could just bounce all around our home with him back here. A strong beam of glee shoots through my every fibre as he hooks me into his strong arms and pulls me close.
George's Belstaff waxed jacket is wet against me from the English weather - despite it being the middle of summer rain is somehow pouring from the sky. I don't mind any of it for a moment. "You're all wet!" My complaint comes paired with a beaming grin and light laugh which takes away from any of the annoyance I was trying to convey. Comfort settles in every part of me with him back.
George just buries his head in the crook of my neck, his body bending into a fold as he breathes me in, pressing a gentle kiss to the exposed skin of my neck. Ignoring every one of my faux-complained words. "Oh no." He coos, his breath hitting my skin and making me shiver lightly. I do the same to him, my fingers dragging down the zip of the coat until I can sink my hands against his soft clothes. He's still in his Mercedes polo having spent the whole day at Brackley with the team straight from the plane. The material is soft and cosy and a lot nicer than the expensive coat I was previously pressed against, warmer.
"I've missed you." I whisper into his neck, my hands still gripping him close, enjoying the comfort his touch brings. I feel warm all over. Still giddy with his presence.
"I missed you too baby." George hums, his words soft as he pulls away softly. The disappointment of separation barely hits me before he's coming closer again. His lips rolling against mine in the most perfect way, pressure in all of the right spots. We kiss three times like this, my mind spinning with happiness with each touch. "It's so good to be home." He almost groans the words softly, his fingers brushing the stray hairs away from my eyes. They had shifted in all the excitement, my heart still puttering in my chest as the excitement in my stomach settles.
