#ofdoexyes

“I wanna another one” Lily giggled, that drunk giggle she does when she’s had one drink too many but not quite enough to get her home yet. And it’s not like she could do much harm, sitting there on his backyard with  Clarke, Belle and Trey half passed out more than a few feet away. 

“You’re drunk” 

“And you’re bossy. And high!” she gestured wildly to the joint between his finger, a pout appearing on her face “Yeah but i’m still not drunk” George shrugged and put it out, leaning back against his chair. Usually at this point she would keep arguing with him but now she had curled into herself, her legs buried onto her knees. George sighed and moved closer to her, bumping their legs together 

“I’ll get you some coffee” 

“I don’t want coffee, i want a beer” Lily rubbed her eyes, looking like a sleepy little child “And i want you to love me but you don’t gimme a beer or love me” George winced, rubbing his neck and letting out a sigh.

“Y’know i do, Lils”  

“Not that way” she mumbled while leaning against his shoulder. His heart squeezed inside his chest, a frown dropping on his face. 

This thing, this thing they didn’t not talk about but they both knew it was there like a big elephant on the room was coming back to slap him in the face, making her sad and miserable and he just couldn’t have that

“Come here” 

“No”

Fine, George huffed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing her against side “You like this, right? The physical contact” that seemed to do the trick, her soft breathing against his neck and her eyelashes fluttering when he looked down at her

“I love you, Georgie” 

“I love you too, Lils”

40) things you said when you met my parents

“He hates me” his voice comes out sad and deflated and you hate it. He’s not supposed to sound like that, he’s supposed to be cheerful and optimistic all the fucking time because that’s who he is, even after everyone and everything has shunned him and turn their back on him he’s good.

“He hates everyone” you’re not lying, your father hates everyone. You’re pretty sure you probably got that from him and that’s the reason you’re unfit for any sort of human relationship. But you’re trying. You’re trying for him because you love him more than you thought possible.  Who cares if he’s a werewolf and you’re a Shadowhunter, you want to be with him.

Screw the rules, screw their stigma and over all screw your father for making him feel miserable (as if he wasn’t already) It had been awful, if you’re honest. Meeting your father hadn’t been on your plans when you dropped by for a surprise visit to your mother. He had taken one long look at him and, well, the rest was history

(“So he’s the werewolf” 

“Leo. His name’s Leo” 

“The downworlder, you mean?”)

It was better than you left and apologized to your mother for the scene that was waiting to happen. He hadn’t talked much since you both jumped in the car and drove all the way to your apartment, sitting in silence next to you for a few minutes now.

“You didn’t deny it” you reach over for his hand, squeezing it softly and running your thumb over his knuckles.  “Does it matter?” 

“To me” Of course it does. He needs people to like him, he has a need to always be a hero and help anyone regardless of what it does to him. 

He’s a big, old fashioned martyr and it frustrates you as much as it intrigues you 

“Well, for all that matters even if hates you” you sight “I still love you” there it is. The three little words that’ve hung over your head constantly over both of your heads for the last few months. He has no trouble telling you how much he adores you, whenever it’s words or actions but you can only say a ‘thank you ‘or an ‘i know’ in return because your damaged ass doesn’t really know how to do this. 

But if the way his face lights up and his smile grows when he says that he loves you too it’s what happens, you might be doing a good job