wc: 432
hello sorry for disappearing uh ily
here is a lil thing on george and his music <3
if u listen to 'playground love' by air it makes it a better i promise :)
_____
george loved his records.
he traced his finger up and down the ridged surface of his newest addition to his collection; a vinyl of 'the virgin suicides' by air. he smiled as his fingers traced the looped lettering. delicately picking the needle up he placed the record into his player. the lyrics began intertwining themselves in the air, as if you could reach out and grab them if you tried hard enough.
he hummed along absentmindedly to the song.
'i'm a high school lover
and you're my favourite flavour
love is all, all my soul
you're my playground love'
a chill wind swept through his room, and george shivered, fingers tingling with the cold. george couldn't stand the winter months; the dreary rain and heavy colours and darkness dripping off of every surface passed five o'clock. it reminded him of james, but he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
if james was here now, he would circle george's slim waist with his arms, in an attempt to warm the boy up. if he tried enough, george could almost feel james' warm hands slowly running up and down his torso. 'get your blood circulating,' james would murmur, resting his head on george's shoulder. if he tries enough he could hear james' husky voice, sounding tired from the relentless stream of university deadlines.
the winter months reminded him of james because every part of it embodies him; the dark tones were his tousled hair and eyes, the cold weather was his bitter attitude when he was angry with a warm fireplace being how he was when he was happy. he tasted sweet like candy canes and was tall and to george he was almost as tall as a christmas tree. james was cinnamon and cloves, warm drinks and alcohol.
george felt as though there was a small piece of him that missed james; he didn't want to but it was hard to fill the james sized gap in his heart when he had left. george has tried. first there was messy diary entries and crying a sad songs, and then there was fingers wiping away tears and more steadied breathing and finally george had gotten rid of every semblance of james he still owned. his mind eventually creeped back to james; it hadn't worked, but alex had said that the only thing that mattered was that he had tired and george trusted alex.
george's body moved, responding naturally to the rhythm of the music. he felt content with his music. for a while, he could forget about james.
