𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 ; george clarke

twenty-four.

ROWAN AND MOLLY walked in sync straight through the hotel lobby and to the large outdoor dining room. this is where they had breakfast every morning.

in the corner of the room sat a group of familiar people: george, chris, both arthur's, grace, calfreezy, chip, and sabina.

their eyes lit up when they saw that certain brunette.

sabina and chip weren't going to be arriving in croatia until that morning; they had their own things going on for the first few days.

"sabina!" rowan chirped, speed walking over to the table and bringing her into a hug. molly— on the other hand— slowly walked there. she wasn't a morning person. she, too, brought her into a hug.

"i'm here too?" chip said sarcastically, acting offended. rowan laughed and gave him a small, casual side hug.

"when did you two get here?" molly queried.

"early this morning," sabina sighed, looking over at chip. "like 6, maybe?"

"mhm," chip hummed, nodding his head.

rowan looked to her left, and sure enough— a pair of eyes were already planted on her. george was sitting on his own at a table.

she sighed heavily, quickly rolling her eyes. she took a breath in and walked over to him, half sitting on the table and half standing.

"hello," she said, awfully more formal than she wished. she closed her eyes, slightly regretting every life choice.

"hello," he snickered, leaning back in the chair with his arms folded— smirking.

that stupid smirk.

"i— uhm," she stuttered, mentally face planting.

"hmm," he hummed, eyebrows raising.

"i— wanted to ask you something," she took a long pause after saying 'i'.

"yeah?" his voice was soft like silk.

as rowan opened her mouth to say the words she hadn't yet planned, the exact person she was talking to interrupted her.

"about yesterday, by the way,"

rowan bit her lip, slightly annoyed, but softened her face nonetheless to let him continue.

"i didn't mean to act like a dick," he admitted honestly.

"i just—" he began again, his voice hushed. he looked around at his surroundings, mainly looking for the certain bartender he disliked greatly. "i saw him being a bit weird last night."

"oh?" she questioned, her nose scrunching in confusion. "weird how?"

"to women."

"that gives me practically nothing."

"i don't really know what i saw," he sighed, wishing he had more to give. "all i saw was a woman sat at the bar, looking uncomfortable. and he didn't look so innocent."

"george," she said plainly. "so you're saying that because a woman looked uncomfortable and a man was standing there— it's automatically him?"

"he was asking for her number," he looked into her eyes, which were squinted, still waiting for more information. "she kept saying no; she had a boyfriend. he kept asking her over and over again."

rowan looked away from george, at the floor, analyzing the situation.

"how do you know all of this?"

"i have my ways," he shrugged. "i mean, you do whatever you want with him. i'm not going to stop you."