8 galex YURI
as an apology
There it is. That strange feeling again. George pours herself a glass full of cold water and takes a deep breath. It's 6am, the train passing by makes the walls rumble, upstairs Abbi is asleep and George is still thinking about the dreadful feeling of being 17.
That's what you get for going to a reunion party. She should have said no. She should have deleted that email the moment it showed up on her inbox. But she got caught in the winding tale of a nice evening, a garden party for the girls she spent her teens with. And it was going well, she ate some apettizers and drank daiquiri while listening to Rania talk about her third husband. But then she'd seen her, the glow of her tan skin and the softness of her dark hair.
It was hard to pretend she wasn't still madly infatuated. Alexander Albon was her terror in her youth. Alex was self assured and clever, witty, managed to turn the most embarrassing moments into a funny tale. And George envied her, wanted to be her. Eventually, she discovered she wanted her. And Alex wanted her too, but it was too late. Too late, too late.
She wrote it on the day they last saw each other, quick chicken scratches on a ripped piece of graph paper. I love you, I'm sorry. Alex had kissed her, George had kissed her back. And they never spoke to each other again.
I still love you, she writes on an email. It's 6:30, she can hear Abbi dragging her feet upstairs. [email protected]. She has a meeting at 9 in Canary Wharf. She has to cross all damn London. The pointer on the screen blinks anxiously. George hits delete, locks her phone and calls her daughter for breakfast, her dad comes to pick her up in 20 minutes.
send me a ship and a prompt <3
