With the taste of your lips I'm on a ride...

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor

"I’ll only ever eat peanut butter pie and that’s so expensive, so I doubt any farmer is able to get their hands on it," Eleanor assumed, as any other pie she had tasted just didn’t do all that much for her. She was definitely more a cake person than she was a pie person, but above all else, she was an ice cream person. There was absolutely no way to go wrong with ice cream, and she smiled at the mention of sprinkles, “Confession time. Sometimes, I just eat sprinkles and throw the ice cream away," she said softly, as if it were a major secret that she was meant to keep completely hidden and under wraps. “But then you had assumed that I implied that you were a cowboy.. so, I mean," Eleanor said, still laughing as she teased George lightly. “I dunno. Your hair beats them all, I think," Eleanor insisted with a nod, “Thank you, though. My feet thank you. And uhm, just.. thanks."

With Eleanor on his back, George was sure she wouldn't be able to see the incredulous look on his face. "Are you implying that farmer's don't have much money?" he asked, gently pinching the underside of her upper leg with his fingers. "Lots of implies," he murmured, for it was as if they were speaking in riddles with all the little, but rather obvious, implies they were making. "You throw the ice cream away?! But…that's a waste of perfectly good ice cream! Why don't you just get more sprinkles and continue eating the ice cream?" While he agreed that sprinkles were amazing, he thought that it was just proper ridiculous to throw away delicious ice cream. "No, but you said…" he shook his head, realizing that trying to argue about the cowboy comment was probably useless, as Eleanor seemed to be quite the adamant and insistent drunk. Or well, not necessarily drunk, for George had seen many people far worse off than El was right now, but she was far from sober. "It's not a problem," he said softly. "You didn't think I'd really be alright with leaving you with those wankers, did you?"

Oh it does, huh? Hmmm! Well, maybe it’d be comfy, or something. You should try it, s’really nice. This is why I’m looking for one.

Mhmm! Doesn't look like you've got that much product in yours. But... if someone's your pillow, does that mean that they're stuck on your bed, just waiting around until you go and cuddle up on them?

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor

"Ice cream, too, right? Or ice cream instead of.. I really hate pie," Eleanor thought aloud, even though eating hadn’t initially been enough of an incentive to bring her back to the farm. Although she still wasn’t completely sold on spending the night stuffing her face with food she didn’t necessarily enjoy, she figured that as long as she was with George and not walking down an unknown street with strangers, it’d be a lot better than her other options. “Are you implying that you’re expecting me to ride you, then?" she teased back, ruffling his hair as she climbed onto his back, “I like your hair better than a hat. It’s cuter."

"How in the world do you hate pie?" George asked, looking at her with slight disbelief. He honestly did not think there really were many pie-hating people left in the world, and was surprised that Eleanor was one of them. "Well, we'll just have ice cream then. Maybe we'll be lucky and find some sprinkles in the cupboard," he said, for sprinkles truly made ice cream better. Especially the rainbow sprinkles, since they were loads prettier than the chocolate ones. "What?!" George asked, blinking a few times and feeling a slight flush rise in his cheeks. "No! I just meant… You said… I didn't… You mentioned horses and cowboys," he finished lamely, holding onto legs to keep her steady and still on his back. "Now don't say that! There are plenty of cute hats out there."

You think? With your hair it would, too, y’know.

I dunno... it looks like it would be soft and really tickle. Hmm. Good point. I suppose I'll have to resist treating people like pillows.

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor

"I’m good at that too, though!" Eleanor insisted once again, trying to make the group seem less menacing than they may have truly been. Although she didn’t see the possible dangers at the moment, she knew somewhere in her mind that George really only wanted the best for her and wouldn’t have her do something just for the sake of pulling her away from people she assumed were her friends. She followed along as he lead her in the opposite direction of the group, shaking her head as George suggested waving goodbye to them, “I’d rather just go. You owe me pie and I’m definitely not getting any less hungry," she teased, laughing quietly before speaking up again, “Now I’m going to need that piggyback ride, partner. Save a horse, ride a cowboy, as they say."

George decided to forgo commenting on her apparent spin the bottle skills, instead just shaking his head to himself. As they withdrew from the group, he figured he might have been a bit too quick to judge them, for none of the blokes were chasing after them or putting up too much of a protest that Eleanor was leaving, and leaving so willing at that. "Promise we'll get pie," he said, hoping that there would still be some sitting in the kitchen when they got back to the farm. He was not sure what he was going to do if someone had decided to eat it, though, he supposed he'd just have to offer to make Eleanor pie from scratch. It couldn't be that hard to make. "Are you implying I'm a cowboy?" he asked, his lips quirking up into a grin. "I'm missing my hat, though," he sighed, bending down a little and offering her his back to climb onto.

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor

Although she couldn’t pinpoint her exact location, Eleanor knew that any walk back to the farm would be miserable, given her already sore feet and lack of desire to do anything but lay down at that point in time. Still, either of her options involved more walking than she would have liked, but at least George had managed to sweeten the deal a bit and offer a piggyback ride, which would easily make the walk back to the farm less painful and strenuous. Eleanor continued looking back and forth between George and the group she had previously been walking with. “But maybe it’s like.. flip cup. I’m really good at flip cup, George," she insisted, although George’s words had managed to make her seemingly impossible decision much easier. Nodding her head, Eleanor looked back at the group once more before looking back to George, “Right. Yeah, okay, let’s go," she decided quietly.

As George waited for Eleanor to make a decision, he glanced from her to the group of men quickly, noticing that they were seeming to get more impatient as time went on. The faster George got Eleanor away from them, the better. There was no way that he would be able to stop or fight them if they suddenly got angry, so he only hoped that Eleanor made a decision quickly. "It's definitely not flip cup," he told her. "If anything, it'll be more like spin the whiskey bottle or something," he said, shaking his head. He let out a sigh of relief when she agreed to leave. "Great," he said, gently giving her hand a little tug as he began leading her away from the group. "Now wave and say goodbye to your new mates… who we'll hopefully never see again," he said, mumbling the last bit under his breath.

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor

"Mhm, super secret powers but ow. M'feet hurt sooo much. So much. S'not fair," Eleanor mumbled, checking out of the conversation momentarily in order to focus her attention on the pain in her heel. She couldn't do much to remedy the problem, but standing up on the tips of her toes seemed like the ultimate solution, as it took her weight off of her heels, but it didn't do much at all for her feet in general. Still, as she tried to solve the mystery of how to keep her feet from aching, she listened to George and nodded along in understanding, though not totally sold on the idea. "I dunno, George. They mentioned fun and fun seems a looot more fun than eating," she said, weighing the options as best as she could, holding onto George's hand while looking back at the impatient faces in the group.

George glanced down at her feet and winced as he thought of the walk back to the farm. He was sure that her feet wouldn't take too kindly to walking barefoot the entire way, but it would be impossible to last in heels. "You can hop on my back if you want," he offered. "I'll give you a piggyback ride back to the farm," he said, knowing that she wouldn't be too heavy to carry at all. "El," he said carefully, his voice dropping, and he hoped the blokes couldn't hear him. "Their type of fun probably involves getting you naked and doing naughty things with you since you're probably, most definitely, the prettiest girl they've ever had the fortune of seeing. You're much better off coming with me."

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor

Reaching out to take George’s hand, Eleanor grabbed onto it for some sort of stability, thankful that she hadn’t fallen over completely just yet, though not counting it out of the realm of possibilities. “Secret girl powers, shhh," Eleanor whispered, stepping out of them as the heels of her feet begged her for some sort of relief from having to carry around her weight on such a small surface area for the entirety of the night. The abundant fields that gave way quite easily under the pointed heel didn’t do much for the comfort either. After taking her shoes off, however, Eleanor discovered that the ground wasn’t all that comfortable without them either. “Hm.. that’s," she started, turning the the group of faces that she couldn’t quite name, shrugging as she turned back to George, “M’not sure of their names, but the one told me he was the real horeseman of Kentucky. Met them at the club and they bought me drinks. They’re realllll nice, George."

George figured that girls must have had some sort of secret powers in order to stand and move around in heels. He had tried on a pair while on X Factor as a joke, and they were ridiculously painful and uncomfortable. He was still wary of the group of men before them, for they didn't seem all to fond over the fact that George was trying to get Eleanor slowly away from them. "I bet they told you exactly what they were hoping you'd want to hear," George muttered, shaking his head and having zero trust for the blokes. Especially one of the bigger ones closest to them, for he looked as though he was leering at Eleanor. "M'sure they're very nice," George said calmly. "But, erm. Don't you want to go back to the farm now? I was thinking we could have some of that homemade apple pie that was made today. Pretty sure there's ice cream tooooo," he said, giving her a hopeful and encouraging smile.

six inch heels & an attitude ✿ george & eleanor