If Only (GxG)

Chapter 14 Best Ever

A/N
🎶And I Love Her by The Beatles🎶

『 °*• ❀ •*°』
Alison's POV

It's Saturday morning, and my stomach twists with excited nerves the moment I open my eyes. I'm sprawled on my bed, the early sunlight filtering through my curtains, reminding me: today's the day I take Blake out.

After all the drama of the week—especially Mum's outburst—I crave an easy escape into something good and hopeful. And that's exactly what I plan to share with Blake.

By noon, George is in the kitchen sipping tea, raising an eyebrow at my fidgety state. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "You've checked the mirror, like, five times in ten minutes."

I roll my eyes, though he's not wrong—I keep brushing invisible lint off my jeans. "I'm fine," I insist. "Just... want this to go well."

George snorts. "From what I've seen, you and Blake are past 'just casual.' Relax." Then, more gently, he adds, "Have fun, Al. You deserve it."

His words steady my nerves—just enough for me to grab my little backpack and head downstairs.

My phone buzzes: Blake is on her way to the spot we agreed to meet.

The plan is for me to show her a corner of London she hasn't frequented—a local market with cheap, delicious street food and an old Victorian greenhouse.

A quiet, unassuming place that won't attract the eyes of people who might connect us as teacher and student.

When I get off the tube near the market, I exit onto a cobblestone lane lined with stalls. The air is sharp with the smell of roasted coffee beans and sizzling food.

I glance at my watch: 12:57. Perfect timing.

I take a few steps forward, scanning the scattered crowd until I spot her. Blake emerges from a black cab, paying the driver before turning to scan the market.

My breath catches at the sight of her. She's dressed simply—fitted jeans, a soft-looking sweater beneath her coat—yet somehow, she exudes that effortless grace that makes my heart race.

Her eyes land on me, and instantly, her posture softens, a small smile blossoming.

She waves me over. I hurry to meet her, trying not to grin too widely.

"Hey," I manage, pushing a slightly frazzled lock of hair behind my ear. "You're exactly on time."

Blake's gaze warms as she looks me over. "Hello, Alison." Her voice is low and smooth. "It's nice to see you... somewhere that isn't a locked classroom," she teases, lips quirking at the memory of our more clandestine moments.

Heat creeps into my cheeks, but I force a light laugh. "I thought we could use some fresh air for once." I adjust my shoulder bag. "So, are you ready? It's nothing fancy, but I love this place. Figured we'd start with lunch if you're hungry."

Her eyes flick around the bustling street. "I'm starving," she confesses, an almost playful look crossing her face. "Lead on."

We set off along the rows of market stalls, each one a riot of color and scent: grilled halloumi at one, sugar-dusted pastries at another, a swirl of spices in the next.

The air hums with lively chatter and buskers strumming guitars. I catch Blake's faint smile at the flurry of activity.

"How have you never been here before?" I ask, partly to spark conversation and partly out of genuine curiosity.