Well, if there's one thing that's always going to be familiar, it's fighting with Shaun. It gives her a focus. She whirls on him and does not sit down.
"The fuck am I supposed to do, Shaun?" she says. "I'm well aware that I am supposed to be dead, and me not being dead... the fact that I'm..." she shuts her eyes, turning away. "I don't want to be unreasonable. I wasn't planned. I'm not even the same person I was, technically."
Mahir can't help himself, and he laughs. Maybe it's more like a giggle, but who can blame him?
"None of us are the same people we were, Georgia. Shaun's insane, and I left England, and I stayed to make sure he didn't kill himself if he decided he couldn't handle another day without you, because I loved you and I thought you wouldn't want him throwing his life away. Except--as it turned out--it was me being selfish and not wanting to lose him and what was left of you, and now..." He laughs again, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. "Now, here we are. A bloody fucking mess."
"He's right," Shaun says, holding out his hands toward both of them. "About... all of that." He's not really sure he'd call Mahir selfish, but the rest of it was pretty spot on. He is crazy and borderline suicidal, and he's glad he's had Mahir to call him on his bullshit. "This is a fucking mess, but I don't care if you weren't planned, George. I'm just glad you're back." And he fucking well knows Mahir is, too. It's one of the things they'd always agreed on--how much they love George.
George sighs, finally slumping down into the chair. Not because she's made up her mind on anything, but her feet do hurt. Sitting down is more of a relief than she wants to admit.
She's never been a particularly jealous person. It's only now that she realizes that's at least partly because she's never had any cause. Shaun's always been hers, end of story. But then she died and it turned out the story kept going, and now?
She doesn't know.
"I need a damn coke," she says finally. "I can't process properly uncaffienated."
Mahir can't help a faint smile; it's such a Georgia statement that it almost hurts. And no matter how out of place and third wheel he's feeling, he knows Shaun is right. He's glad she's back, too, for whatever definitions of "back" may apply to this situation.
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"The fuck am I supposed to do, Shaun?" she says. "I'm well aware that I am supposed to be dead, and me not being dead... the fact that I'm..." she shuts her eyes, turning away. "I don't want to be unreasonable. I wasn't planned. I'm not even the same person I was, technically."
...hey we remember this right? whoops
"None of us are the same people we were, Georgia. Shaun's insane, and I left England, and I stayed to make sure he didn't kill himself if he decided he couldn't handle another day without you, because I loved you and I thought you wouldn't want him throwing his life away. Except--as it turned out--it was me being selfish and not wanting to lose him and what was left of you, and now..." He laughs again, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. "Now, here we are. A bloody fucking mess."
pepperidge farm remembers
it's been 84 years....
She's never been a particularly jealous person. It's only now that she realizes that's at least partly because she's never had any cause. Shaun's always been hers, end of story. But then she died and it turned out the story kept going, and now?
She doesn't know.
"I need a damn coke," she says finally. "I can't process properly uncaffienated."
no subject
"I'm sure that can be arranged," he says gently.