23; i think my nan fancies you

1.4K 25 5
                                    


i get into the car with alex and we begin our 2 hour journey home. "so did george get you anything nice?" he asks as he was in his room when we did our presents. "he got me tickets to paris" i say quietly, still in shock. "what?!" even alex was shocked and he turned to look at me, eyes wide in shock. "eyes on the road!" i laugh. "oh my god, that's insane. you did well then" he says. we then discuss what he got alice, his girlfriend.

a couple mac miller albums later and we had arrived home. as soon as we get to the door, we are ambushed by our whole family. my mum, nan, cousins- everyone. we finally managed to get all our stuff through the door and sat down in the living room with everyone and caught up. "so you've both got partners now" my nan asks me and alex. "yes nan" he laughs and sighs, "both in relationships" he adds. "what's your boyfriend's name again?" she asks. "george" i tell her, she nods. "have you got a photo, can i see him?" she asks, i show her my lockscreen as it was me and him. "ooo, isn't he handsome?" she laughs. "he's alright" i jokingly smirk. "well, as long as he treats you well, i don't mind" she shrugs. "nan, he's taking her to paris!" alex chimes in. "oo, you lucky girl! i remember when your grandad took me to paris" she was about to go on a tangent of a story but luckily mum came in. "alex, elena. can you move your bags please, safety hazard being at the bottom of the stairs" she says sternly, rushing back off to the kitchen and i can tell she's stressed but there's nothing more humbling than coming home. even at my big age, my mum will still tell me off and what to do. we get up to go move our bags into our bedrooms. alex had to sleep on the floor of his old room as my room had been turned into the guest room. "can't believe i'm having to sleep on the floor of my own room" he sighs. "well shouldn't have decorated your room like shit and it might have been chosen to be the guest room" i shrug. "your walls were purple!" alex exclaims. "yeah but at least they weren't emo black like yours" i say back. "fair point" alex admits defeat. i decide to text george and let him know we've arrived.

george <3

heyy, we got here about 40 minutes ago. going well so far, think my nan fancies you but other than that just an average day in the elmslie household... chaos🫠xxx

send me your nan's number😘😘😘😘

george... this is my NAN we're talking about! pls stop😁

fine, if i have to but it's like romeo and juliet we'll find our way back to each other

okay, but please don't kill yourself or my nan i wouldn't appreciate that xxxx

oh shit yeah, i forgot it ended like that maybe scrap the romeo and juliet reference 

you can't see me but i just rolled my eyes

not the first time i've put your eyes to the back of your head😏

right...
this has to stop
anyways
i've got to help alex blow up his bed, so i'll speak to you in a bit xxxx

wait... alex is sleeping on a blowup bed?😂
please send me a photo of him on it, that's so funny

i will do later😭
he's not happy i told you lol
but i love you, speak later xxxxx

love you too❤️

alex's bed had a foot pump to blow it up so we took it in turns as according to alex it was only fair as i was 'making' him sleep on the floor. "listen, become the favourite child and you don't have to deal with shit like this" i smirk. "i fucking know that! you've always had it easier with mum than i did. piss take" i just laugh at him as he's stood in the middle of his bedroom, stomping on this pump trying to make his bed inflate as it just keeps going down.
about 30 seconds later we discover there's a hole in it and i'm trying my hardest not to laugh at the sight of a defeated alex stood next to his dishevelled blowup mattress. i sneakily snap a photo and send it to george. he responds with laughing faces. he eventually gives up and ends up sleeping on some random sofa cushions we found that surprisingly looked comfy.

that night i intended on calling george before going to sleep but i was so tired that i feel straight to sleep.

out of the blue | george clarkeyWhere stories live. Discover now