the sincerity elicited a small smile from me, to my own surprise. fuck, the mask is falling. when did i start to lose control over the emotions i showed? he held a shaky hand out as to signify that we were in agreement, looking at me expectantly. i rolled my eyes, barely stifling a chuckle and connecting my hand with his. he immediately let out a breath i hadn't noticed he'd been holding. why is this so important to him?
nonetheless, our hands disconnected and i slightly missed the touch, the lingering warmth on my fingertips almost mocking me. just another touch-starved teenager, getting lightheaded over a simple handshake. how pathetic. i looked up and saw him staring at his own hand, and for a moment i thought he might relate.
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mature content, read epilogue for tw
george's pov
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this is a fictional story with the characters not representing their irl counterparts. if anyone represented in this story ever expressed discomfort, i would take it down immediately.