𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 ; george clarke (CURRENTLY DISCONTINUED)

thirty-three.

George couldn't sleep the night before because he knew it was over between him and rowan. and it was his fault.

as he laid, eyes wide staring at the ever so boring ceiling, he thought about the way she had left that night, on halloween— and what he had said.

he knew she heard him— she stopped in her tracks swiftly as the sentence left his lips, but carried on regardless, walking slightly faster to leave.

he checked his phone; 5:42am

twenty-two minutes before the ivy opened. before he knew to stop himself, there he was at the front door, tying his laces to leave.

the ivy was about a 10 minute walk from his flat, which gave him time to think of what he was going to say. he knew this was wrong, he knew he shouldn't do this— but it was too late, he had left.

once he made it to the ivy, no one was to been seen pouring milk into small jars to place on the tables, or a dust pan and brush being dragged on the floor. instead, it was dark and empty.

in case of emergency— for instance, halloween last year, rowan and quinn decided to give george a spare key to the ivy not long after that incident, as rowan seemed to be the first person he'd go to if he needed help.

again, he knew he should've turned back, but he was already there, stood in the empty— closed coffee shop, that he didn't own.

he turned on the small standing lamp that he knew rowan turned on in the mornings that freed her from the big blow of the big bright light, and he sat on the island chair, which was his chair since he had been coming here, about three years ago.

only a short moment passed until the subject of his visit showed up, which he knew was going to happen, but still got nervous when he saw her concerned face as she laid eyes on him.

she slowly opened the door, and walked through.

"are you okay—?" she said slowly, closing the door with a rough bang, and flung off her puffer coat and scarf and hung it on the coat rack.

"mhm,"

"so—" she dragged out the 'o' sound. "what are you doing here?"

he didn't answer, only looked. and that look gave rowan all the answers she needed.

"george," she groaned. "you have to go, i can't deal with this right now,"

"rowan, please"

his eyes were like glass, his cheeks were red raw from the cold, his arms laid loosely on his lap, his lips in a slight frown.

"you have to go, because i promised myself i would stay away from you,"

a slight whisper came from his mouth.

"and i don't want to see you for a while, because all you do is turn things up. it's never straightforward. everything has to be messy when it's with you."

"i love you,"

"george you just have to go home, please. because i'm sick of you being here, with me. i need you to stay away, and go home."

"i love you," the whisper rose again.

"what?" mirroring the level of noise.

"i love you," he said for a third time, this time slightly louder for her to hear.

silence.

"you don't mean that." she whisper again. "george, you're exhausted, i can tell 'cause your eyes are doing that little twitching thing, and you don't know what you're saying, so please. just go,"

"rowan, i'm serious," george sat still, staring into her soul.

"and so am i, so please." she begged, her voice cracking in desperation. "just go,"

and so, without a last word from george— he stood up, blinked his eyes at rowan for a second, and left.

he didn't know why he took a second before he left. a part of him hoped rowan would change her mind, let him stay and they can work things out. but things like that didn't happen with them.

they were never going to work out.

— KEELIN SPEAKS !

wanted to soften the blow at the end and make them and you guys happy, but i'm sorry— fanfics don't work that way🤷‍♀️

also did you guys see that the notebook reference ?? if you did that i've got the right audience

DID NOT PROOFREAD, i couldn't be arsed and i've been doing this book to long to care, so if there's any mistakes let me know !!