Friend

#30.0

His touch,
His eyes,
His hands,
His lips.
-Tingles

It was tiring, George happened to think.
"What do you want to talk about?" George sighed, looking at his girlfriend sit down on the empty space of the couch next to him, the other side being occupied by his pets.

"Can we talk about us?" Claire looked at the black screen in front of her, George cocked a brow not expecting such braveness coming from her.
"What, specifically?"
She leaned back, a hand resting on George's knee, "You said you wanted some time alone... to think about us."

"Oh... that."

Not that he didn't think of them, to be fair he probably did it to the point his brain started to bleed, it was almost impossible to focus on work when all he had in mind was his girlfriend and what he wanted to label them now. But he wouldn't have expected Claire to ask about it. She had never really been the type of person to look forward into starting confrontation, so most of the time George would realise she wanted to talk about some serious or sensitive topic and he would be the one to start the conversation - he knew how his girlfriend found difficult to start this kind of talks.
This time didn't happened, though, which confused the brunet, but he didn't care much to be honest, considering how their relationship has evolved over the past months (this one in particular)...

"I wanted to apologise for how I acted recently..." she said, George humming at those words, a silver knife plugging in his chest.

He thought of all the times his drunk girlfriend hugged him and smooched him on the sofa apologising for her rude attitude, empty words that George learned to not pay any mind to.
He was able to shrug them off of his shoulders because he knew they were just temporary thoughts his girlfriend had while being in a drunken state...

Now a lump in his throat threatened to explode in a mental breakdown because hearing those from her sober self felt completely different. He often daydreamed of hearing those words from his girlfriend while looking at him straight in the eyes instead of listening to her say it between giggles, and he never even shed a tear.

They felt meaningful, like she actually believed that, but the trust and bond they've built up over the years have been crushed down to dust in just a few months.

George scoffed, "Are you drunk?" he asked ironically, though his voice clearly cracked, Claire just looked back with a frown on her face, a disgusted expression spread across her face.
"The Claire I know would never say that." and with that he got up from the couch.
Claire quickly stood up, trying to ask him to come back, but George just ignored her, until he felt his wrist being pulled back by skinny fingers.

A loud slap on his left cheek, "Stop being so selfish once in a while!" she shouted, regret in her eyes as soon as her sight was met with the brunet's sad smile.
He looked disappointed, yet a pained smile spread on his lips.

"That's the Claire that I know."

He walked away, planning to go upstairs and maybe smoke a cigarette on the balcony, away from Claire as possible, but before he could do all of of that his girlfriend shouted, "I know about the proposal!"

He turned around to meet her gaze, a terribly annoying and gut wrenching sight to see at this time of the day.
Tears filled her deep green eyes that he used to look so fondly at but now George felt like they were just cold marbles looking at him from time to time.