Smoke Break /Georgenotfound/

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I didn't realize how the time flew by. I was still in the same spot, talking to George.

And I think initially he came to the balcony for a smoke break like he always does, yet ended up talking to me for 3 hours instead of touching a single cigarette.

We'd been discussing our favorite foods for the past hour, and because he was a picky eater, I was the one talking so much that my tongue dared to start cramping soon.

I just couldn't help but be flabbergasted by his preferences. There wasn't a single thing we both liked, and I like almost everything.

"How do you not like strawberries? Strawberries are so good!" My mouth watered just from mentioning the name of the delicious goodness.

"Most of the times they're sour.. and overrated," his nose bridge wrinkled up.

"Try them dipped in chocolate? Oh my god, that's like godly," actually, I might get some tomorrow.

"Meh.." he shrugged.

He meh'd all of my favorite things.

"Okay, what about olives?" I could eat a jar of olives, drink the disgusting leftover water, and still not get sick of it.

"I don't hate olives," a smile creeped on my face, a satisfaction filling my insides as I was about to say finally, "I despise them with my guts."

Nevermind.

"How's there's not a single thing I love that you like even just a little bit," I pinched the air between my fingers, emphasizing my point.

"Well, not my fault you love all of the controversial foods! Like pickles, olives, I don't know, fucking- peanuts," he made sure to point out only the parts that were proving his point.

"What's controversial about strawberries!?" I threw my hands in the air.

"I said I don't mind strawberries-"

"You said they're sour and overrated."

"Yeah, cause they are-"

"Whatever," holding my palm up as a signal for him to stop, I see him close his eyes and throw his head back in defeat.

I could go on talking about this forever, but only because I've been forcing myself to not yawn for the past ten minutes now, I bother to check the time.

"Holy shit, it's 2 a.m. already," I widened my eyes.

"Oh no, that's like way past your bedtime!"

I hate it so much when he overemphasizes everything and pours gallons of sarcasm into every word.

"I don't have a bedtime," I lied.

"Yeah, sure. Go sleep," if I learned anything about him, it's that he has no taste, is allergic to peanuts, and constantly sends me to sleep.

I frowned, "You go sleep."

"You can't send me to sleep," he said it in a voice that made me think there was a serious explanation about to follow up, "cause I'm older."

What a child.

"So what?"

"So I know better."

"You actually don't know shit," I was getting a bit annoyed.

"I know that you need sleep to be able to study tomorrow."

Okay, he actually knows some shit.

"Doesn't mean you can send me to bed..?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Why can't I?" I just know he loves pushing people to their limits.

"Cause you're not my daddy-"

Holy fuck.

I meant to say dad. Fuck, I meant to say dad-

My hand almost slapped to my mouth, but I stopped it mid-air, not to make things more obvious. Maybe he'll just let it slide.

But when I saw his head tilt slightly in surprise as his eyebrows went up, gaze fixated on my face, I already knew he wasn't going to let it slide.

I don't think he did it in a seductive way, but as he let his bottom lip gently slide between his teeth, I looked away.

"I mean.." he started, but I didn't wanna hear.

"No, you don't- shut up," I pointed my index finger at him, "I meant to say dad."

"But I am your dad.." he went back to the stupid joke that wasn't even funny, and I rolled my eyes.

He's right, I should go sleep before anything else unintentionally slips from my lips.

But if I go now, he'll think I'm going because he told me to.

"So when do you sleep usually?" I thought I was being smooth with it, but he laughed.

"When I feel sleepy," such a good answer.

"Which is..?"

"Which is now."

Yes. It's all going according to plan.

"We should sleep together then."

I... Not again. I meant we should both sleep. Oh my god, my mouth needs a lock after midnight.

George's eyes narrowed, then momentarily closed as he silently laughed in disbelief or resignation.

"You said it, not me," his words paired with some noncommittal gesture, made a blush creep across my cheeks.

"You know what? We should just schedule the times we come to the balcony so that we never meet again," the worst part is that I was being half-serious, "I'm claiming 10 to 11 p.m., don't be here, alright?"

The whole time I was trying to speak, he was looking at me with his stupid smile, which is so... so.. what's the word. Annoying. Yes.

It's so annoying that it makes me look away cause my face starts burning from anger. Definitely anger, yes.

"Okay, I'll make sure to not be here everyday from 10 p.m. to 11 p.m., Aria," he nodded, delivering his words in a way as if I was telling him the times so that he could be here every day.

But the way he said my name?

"Yes, good," I affirmed, "now go sleep."

"Aren't you joining me?"

I hate him so much.

"Shh, go," I even shushed him, but he didn't move a muscle.

"C'mon, you're not even asking nicely."

I wasn't even asking, let alone nicely, but whatever.

"You really want me to ask nicely?" I raised a brow.

"I really want you," he paused, "to ask nicely."

I don't know what the fuck was the pause for but it's so incredibly hot in here and I'm leaving.

"Okay, bye."

Yes, I lost. But at least my whole face is no longer burning- from the heat, of course. It was too hot. And by "it", I mean the weather.

Did I even need to clarify that?

"Won't see you tomorrow then," he teased again, and I groaned in response.

"Goodnight, George."