Mad Hatter |George Daniel|

02

I was given water, stale Tim Tams, and Matty's heavy blankets to warm up under after my nose stopped bleeding. For the rest of the night I tried to sober up in George's bedroom while he cleaned. Halloween was over by the time he was done. It was 2 in the morning. Someone took Amber's drunk shell of a body home without her knowing what happened. Ross was getting busy with a red head he met. Adam had to go back to his parents house in Blackpool and Matty was found passed out in his room. Alone.

Matty felt so bad for smashing my face into the pool that he offered to let me stay the night until he could drive me home. I didn't exactly live too close and Amber was my only source of getting here. No trains ran late on a holiday either. George agreed and threw my dress and bra in the dryer.

Some men are so generous.

A little after 2:15, George came back into his room while I had the TV on. He goes right to his bathroom and opens up cabinets. I can't quite see what he was up to due to the wall that cut him off slightly. Only a sliver of his back could be seen but he was for sure taking the medication he came into the room with earlier. I swivel in the sheets more and sigh as my head hits the pillow.

We are both quiet and he sits on the edge of the bed and throws on a clean shirt after scrubbing his make up from the night off. The two of us, barefaced, laid down watched a couple episodes of House then found ourselves sleepy. Neither of us minded sharing a bed, after all tonights' mess the couch was trashed. We sure as hell wasn't doing a flip of a coin to see who slept on it. That was the one thing he couldn't clean in the course of one night.

Before George could close his eyes I spoke up. "Thank you, both you and Matty for helping." There was a need to say it over and over again.

"Just wanted to help, ya know?" He rolled on his side to face me while tucking an arm under his pillow. "Pretty girls don't deserve bloody noses." With that he proceeded to put the pad of his pointer finger on my nose and tapped it gently. My face scrunches like a child and I laugh a little.

"You think I'm pretty?" I ask pulling the covers over my face a little.

"Yes, very." Pause. "Is that wrong of me to think?" He sits up.

"N-no, just I never hear that anymore. It's touching." I mumbled into the blanket, still slowly trying to conceal the redness on my pale face. His hands snatch at the hem of the fabric and he slowly pulls it away from my face while leaning in.

Whispering. "You deserve to hear it more darling." It was just dark enough in the room for me eyes to find his. The sound of his voice deepening with each word. His smooth hand finds it's way to my jaw and neck to just barely caress my skin. I find myself aroused by his touch.

Fuck boy.

Was all I could think, I've come across many. Yet George was radiating as the good kind of fuck boy. . The one that could go all night with you and still want to take you on a date the next morning. Even if your legs quivered while you walked...

All I could do was suddenly think of all the talent he could confine in bed. I always knew I was a whore, I barley know the dude and I'm thinking about him touching me in the wrong ways.

I tried to muster a response but I can only find myself wanting to pull the sheets over my face again. "Tell me something you like about yourself." He commands, scooting closer to my freezing body.

I overthink the question. What did I like about myself? My whole life was just bland when it came to my self confidence. I wasn't the girl that stood in front of a reflective piece of sheet metal and pointed out what was wrong. Nothing's wrong with me I'm just another human like everyone else. We're all different and that's good because similarity among all is boring.

I think back to when I used to dress like fucking idiot and how I always liked my style even when I got judged. "My...uhm." I try to think of something better. Clothes wasn't something about me it was something on me. George's eyes watch me patiently as I bite my lip and muster up something. "My high cheek bones. For a girl I guess."

"I like them too." The pads of his fingers now skim along the area where I would normally put my contour. They travel down to my jawline. "I like your eyes too." A long pause emits between us. Now they travel right to my chin under my lip. "Your lips too."

He could hear the loud sharp inhale I took as he moved closer to my face. Inches away from my face I could hook the smell of coconut conditioner and my own musky smell of chlorine. But the taste, the taste in my mouth. It discharged like hard tart candies and mixed with the flavor of powdered sugar from George's mouth. Intimacy in the moment but when he settled his palm on my waist under the blanket I became unresponsive.

My whole body just froze and he pulled away from me with panic painting his face. "I'm sorry. That was so wrong of me." The regret in his voice is so prominent I felt terrible. My body responded with it. I liked it. This random scratched and blurred human face that I barely knew has swooned over me soon enough for myself to be delighted over him. As he scatters away on the bed sheets to flip over and sleep, I grasp his left arm and pull him back.

I prepare myself as his eyes land on mine and this time I take the control. I'm the one putting my hands on him and pushing myself closer to just feel the way his lips danced with mine just moments before. George doesn't seem flabbergasted by my action but rather pleased as his body responded by getting goosebumps. Within the mix of holding each other the royal robe slipped off my arms. Leaving me exposed in his shirt and weak lingerie from freshman year in college.

I knew what we were doing was wrong. Very wrong. One night stands were wretched, it hurts you unless you're the type who can handle a 'break up'.

By the end of our sloppy mess we call making out I was perched on his lap. Obviously I could feel what I had done to him as he massages his fingers into my hips.

"We-we can't." George says while observing the lace covering me as my legs were exposed. "I can't hurt you." The tone in his voice was more terror than worry. Like he was scared to have a one night stand with me but that's not what I wanted. That's not what he wanted either.

I get off him toying my bottom lip and slinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Maybe I should just go." Painfully I say it and start searching for my phone in the dark.

His cold hands go around my waist again this time to pull me back near him. Right as I felt my phone touch my palm he had drug me back into bed. "I'm sorry okay?"

"What are you sorry about?"

"That I moved this so fast in not even 12 hours."

"Don't bother. I've had things go quicker." I say while thinking about all my one nights in the beginning of college. I was a dirty whore then, and still am now. "Goodnight George."

And I didn't see his face until the next morning when I went outside for a cigarette and Matty joined me.