sheyfu

[because-she-goes]

[because-she-goes]

the dinner party

warnings: none, just sweet domestic George fluff since he doesn’t get enough written about him. Enjoy!

A massive pot of boiling water sits on his stovetop steaming away. A few packets of pasta rest off to the side with the garlic, oil and lemon. You have never been more at peace, than cooking their favorite meal for the people you love. Dumping the spaghetti in the pot with a few handfuls of salt to flavor the water. You chop the cloves of garlic in a breeze, watching your beloved fiancé delicately set their kitchen table for six: the four boys, Carly and you. They’ve been on tour for ages and you know how they all eat whatever gross convenience store snacks they can find on the road and whatever the catering people decide to set up for them at the venue if they’re lucky meaning a total lack of home cooked meals. Tragic, you think.

You sigh contently and laugh as you watch the gentle giant debate which side forks go next to a plate. “Right side, Gorgeous. None of us are lefties.” You help the poor guy. Now checking the pasta, deeming it still a little too toothsome to eat. Letting the carbs boil away for a few more minutes. Getting out the special red wine and letting it come to room temp, you go next to him. Leaning into his side and resting your head more on his bicep. Breathing him in, amber, lilac and sandalwood fills your lungs. God, you will never get tired of how heavenly he smells.

“Hi, fiancé.” You beam at him, twisting the engagement ring around your finger to reveal the diamond.

“Hi, my love. Need anything?” He asks kindly, eyes dripping with fondness as he looks at you fiddling with the ring, his own band resting on his finger. You loved the way the gold gleamed off his skin tone. “Music, cheese board, blankets on the couch for later?” He runs through your regular hosting routine.

“Actually yeah, can you turn on that ambient music you made for the holidays? The one we had playing during the boxing day lunch?”

It being late January, you don’t think it is too late to still be playing the holiday dinner playlist. Nervously, fixing your jumper and smoothing out any wrinkles, flipping the ring back to hide it until later. Going back to check the pasta again, you do a happy dance - perfectly al dente! Hearing the music start gently, you call George over to drain the massive pot of pasta. Thanking him and then bringing it back to the stove and covering it to keep the heat in. They should be here any minute you think, checking the clock.

The doorbell rings and George greets Carly and Hann, taking the beautiful bouquet of flowers from her and going to grab a vase from their garage. The pair make their way up to the kitchen and greet you with a hug. Asking if they “could help with anything before the rest of the boys arrive?”, you say everything is settled. George comes up the steps, vase and flowers in a hand as he mumbles a “for you” and kisses your temple. Filling the vessel with fresh water and letting the flowers fall gracefully into place. Grabbing fresh wine glasses and pouring the four of you some, Adam and Carly take theirs with a thank you. Next to arrive is, Ross. “Matty should only be a few minutes behind me”, he says while handing over a tray of delicious looking brownies he made earlier. George steals one immediately knowing how his friend is the best baker of the group. The three friends run off to god knows where upstairs.

“George Bedford Daniel, don’t you go spoiling your appetite!” You say after him with a sigh, swearing sometimes you feel like a pre-school teacher trying to wrangle the lot of them.

Matty comes sweeping in, looking exasperated. “Sorry, love, traffic was brutal from my house. Forgot about rush hour.” He reasons. “Can I help with anything? Wheres the lads?”

“Up here, mate! George got an awesome new home studio all set up here!” Calls Ross from the stairs. Matty runs up yelling something back about him getting that new synth board yet. You shrug at Carly with a laugh. Deciding to finish the pasta, you uncover the pot and dump in the oil, chopped garlic, a squeeze of lemon and some parsley. Giving it a whirl and final taste test, you practically moan the food is so good.

The two of you plating it up, you call George and the guys back down. Carly goes to light some candles on the table and you set all the bowls down in their spots with the bottle of wine and some water.

The guys scarf down their food like teenage boys who haven’t eaten in months. “Unreal, Honey!” George praises, the rest of the group nodding in agreement as words like phenomenal, comforting and delicious are all thrown around. You beam towards George,seeing how how proud he is of his girl. How he got someone so wonderful and so able to fit into the four of them is unbelievable to him. He is the luckiest man ever, he thinks as he takes another forkful of the pasta and sip of wine.

“Well, guys.., we actually have a bit of news…” George begins, glancing at your hands. Carly giving you a knowing smile, her being among the first you told.

“We are engaged!” You cheer, revealing your ring to the group.

“Oh my god! Congrats mate, thats huge!!” the boys cheer as the six of you wrap in a group hug.

George mouths an “I Love You.”

You swoon. “I love you.”

He makes it too easy to love him, you think.

Oh how lucky he is to love her, he thinks.

[because-she-goes]

mum and dad

[because-she-goes]

happy birthday to the legend !