South London Forever // George Karim

-dainty flowers and less dainty ghosts-

I'm back [after mourning the chapters I wrote that didn't save}

<3

Freddie took the kettle off the stove top and put it down on the bench. She fished two teabags out of the jar above the burning out fireplace and popped them into the cups she'd put on the tray.

She slipped the handful of delicate little flowers on their sprigs onto the tray as well. They were from the pot of them growing by the rapier and umbrella stand by the door. Lucy said they were the same flowers that Annabelle Ward had handed over during the vision like dream that had taken place in her head.

Or at least that's what Freddie had been able to figure out in between Lucy's pleads to be taken seriously and ramblings about her not being crazy.

Freddie picked up the kettle and held it away from her slightly, touching her fingertips to the cup and then moving them away as she poured the boiled water cautiously.

Lucy had made her promise not to tell George or Ant about the ring she had stolen from the crime scene and the dead girl asking for her help. She thought they would fire her. Think she was insane. Blame her.

Freddie didn't really know what all that was about, but she nodded along and when Lucy began reading aloud newspaper clippings and the clock struck midnight, she realised they would be needing some tea to get through whatever it was the girls were now trying to figure out.

There was the sound of water on the kitchen bench, but she moved the kettle a little to the left and then got it into the cups.

She put the kettle back down onto the bench, not bothering to wash the mess she'd made. Lockwood had trudged off to bed pretty soon after George had, and they needed the sleep. All of them did.

But sometimes there was a dead girl needing vengeance.

The stairs creaked, and she cursed herself for not concentrating on which ones she was stepping on. She'd been too busy trying not to burn her entire front with scalding hot peppermint tea.

A shuffling sound came from the closed door next to her, and she put the tray on the bookshelf next to the bathroom and knocked on George's door, her fist accidentally opening it.

She stepped in and heard a lamp flick off immediately. She rolled her eyes. "You know, I wouldn't have known that the light had been on if you hadn't turned it off."

George didn't say anything.

She didn't know if that meant he wanted her to leave and shut the door behind her or sit on the end of the bed and hug him while he cried. She'd had this dilemma quite a few times. "... Can I come in?"

He didn't say anything to that either, and she moved to sit on the end of his bed, papers crinkling under her thighs. She ignored them. That was normal. The heavy breathes coming from George weren't.

He was a light sleeper, which had surprised both Freddie and Lockwood when the boy would be in the hallway by the time either of them had even opened their eyes because of someone knocking at the door or a crashing sound. Then they'd realised why. Then Freddie had become quiet on her feet.

"Do you want a hug," she whispered. "Or I can just stay here... or leave, I can leave too."

The mattress squeaked. It really wasn't the best. She waited a few moments, knowing that Lucy was waiting in the attic with her theories and the tea was growing cold. There was still silence, but she knew George was awake.