Note: this chapter contains a very brief reference to a suicide attempt.

•••

"So, what can I get for you today?" The waitress stands at the table, with her pen and notebook in her hands. She gives an accommodating grin to George and Levi. "How about drinks first?"

"Just a Diet Coke for me please, love," George requests politely, glancing over to Levi.

"I'll take the same I think," Levi adds. Normally, he would go for something alcoholic; however, he wishes to be fully sober, to remember the day he is experiencing with George.

"Excellent. Any ideas on what you'd like to eat?" The waitress finishes scribbling against the paper, before looking back up at the men. "Or would you like some more time to decide?"

"No-no, it's no issue," Levi assures her. "I'll just have whatever you recommend. Surprise me."

"I like that," she comments, chuckling at Levi's riskiness. "And for you, sir?" Her eyes avert to George.

"Uh ... yeah. I'll do that too," he answers, nerves from such a simple decision causing him to swallow unnecessarily. "Whatever he has."

"I'll pay," Levi offers, bringing out his wallet. He brings out a small collection of bank notes, counting them quickly. "Cash okay, sweetheart?"

"No problem whatsoever," the waitress responds. "That'll be £18.70. I hope you'll enjoy what I've chosen for you."

Levi hands her a £20 note, gesturing with his hand for her to walk away without drawing attention to the slight overpayment. "Keep the change as a tip; you've been lovely to us. Thank you."

She beams at this; it may not be much, but it's enough to make her day a lot brighter. "Thank you sir. Enjoy your afternoon, both of you." She walks away from the table, leaving the pair alone to discuss anything and everything.

"She was nice," George acknowledges, resting his elbows on the table; clasping his hands together. "Very patient with us."

"Indeed. No thanks to you, though." Levi flashes a cheeky smile, just to let George know he's messing around. "What if they bring something out that you can't stand, huh? Or something you're allergic to?"

"I'm not allergic to anything." George seems rather proud of this feat; he gives an over-exaggerated smirk, flicking a single strand of his milk chocolate locks sassily. "And I'll eat basically everything that's put in front of me. My appetite is too insatiable not to."

"Well, now I can note down that you'd do best at an all-you-can-eat restaurant." Levi flits his eyes around the pub, taking in the decor. "Bit outdated this place is, isn't it? Very sixties."

"I think it's rather charming actually." George rests his chin against his hand; propped up on the tabletop. "Vintage. Although, it's not as if we don't come from that decade."

"That's a fair point," Levi reasons. "It's only twenty years ago, I suppose. Still quite a while, to go without giving the place a lick of paint, though."

"I do agree with you on that one." George laughs again, his gaze fixed on the man he's sharing his company with. "Man. I can't believe this is really happening right now."

"What? That we're in a drab pub straight from the Beatles era, whose owners don't know what wallpaper or a paintbrush are?" Levi jibes. "Quite unbelievable, really."

"No, you tosser," George insults playfully. "I mean being here at all. I'm sitting with a stranger, in a place I've never been to before. And it's just ridiculous how it all happened."

"It isn't ridiculous. It's fate." Levi sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "It's like I was meant to accidentally call your number that day. And I'm glad I did."

"Oh yeah — what a life-changing day that must have been for you," George quips almost monotonously. "Now you're stuck with some random Londoner, and you're twenty quid short."

"Don't forget petrol money, and the cost of the photograph of Meggy," Levi adds disparagingly. "Running a car isn't cheap, as you'll know. And photographs are getting expensive to develop, too."

"Oh, of course," George plays along, trying his hardest to keep a straight face through his words. "How could I forget the photograph of Meg? That really must have broken the bank."

"You're lucky I like you, George. Nobody else would be allowed to hit me with the same level of sarcasm as I give out." Levi concludes the topic, just as the drinks arrive at the table. "Ah, thanks," he says to the waiter.

"Thank you," George pipes up. His attention then turns back to Levi. "So, let's be serious for a minute. I want to know what your first impression of me was, when you saw me."

"Oh boy," Levi gasps, rubbing his hands together. "Well, I thought you were good-looking. I was surprised that you're similar in height to me — I figured you'd be quite short. Don't ask me why. And ... I thought that your voice sounded a lot more gay over the phone."

George knits his brows together at the combination of back-handed compliments he has just received. "I can't say my speaking voice has ever been called 'gay' before, but I suppose it isn't a lie." He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. "But I guess my first impression of you was ... didn't expect your hair to be quite so dark. I expected it to be a camp bleach-blonde. And I thought your dress sense was good, I suppose."

"You like my outfit?" Levi gushes excitedly, running his hands along his own clothing proudly. "I chose it especially for you." He then moves his eyes up and down George's attire — he's wearing a mustard yellow sweatshirt, with acid-wash blue skinny jeans. "I can see you clearly made an effort for the occasion, too."

"This is an effort for me," George admits; he adjusts the collar of his sweater, as if it'll make any difference to his overall look. "Normally it's a lot more casual than this."

"So you're pretty low-maintenance then?" Levi interrogates, his fingers drumming against the table for no particular reason. "Because I'm into that. Sometimes it's nice to not feel obligated to make a lot of effort."

"Oh definitely," George replies. "D'you know, my ideal date would be sitting somewhere scenic; just taking in the views, and talking about life? I don't need to spend money to feel content." His mind briefly wanders to the perfect place; where he's sitting on a hill, waiting for the sunset with somebody he can laugh with and flirt with. He sees it vividly; and he yearns for it immensely.

"Sounds wonderful." Levi's short statement is enough to bring George away from his thoughts; Levi spots that he is distracted, deeming it appropriate to tease him over it. "Daydreaming, are we?"

"Perhaps a little." George's cheeks tinge dark pink once he's aware that he's been caught; an embarrassed smile falls across his face. "Is a guy not allowed to think about imaginary situations?"

"Daydream away," Levi invites him. "Who would I be, to say a word?"

Their discussion continues freely and comfortably until their meals arrive; they are each presented with the down-to-earth dish of spaghetti bolognese by the server.

"This looks fantastic," George praises softly, his eyes moving up to the waiter. "Thank you very much."

With a nod of the head, the waiter walks off to allow the pair to eat. George sneaks a peek at Levi to make note of his eating habits — he finds him to be very well-mannered; using his knife and fork unproblematically, with no signs of messiness evident at all. He decides Levi passes this silly mental check he's assessing him over, before starting to eat, himself. He's very conscious of how politely he does this; he aims to be as tidy as Levi is being, but with a dish such as spaghetti, it's pretty difficult. It only takes a few minutes for George to slip up; he spills some bolognese sauce down his sweatshirt, immediately cursing under his breath.

"Nice one," Levi teases, before they both stand up simultaneously. Levi grabs a napkin, rushing to dab the front of George's attire in a bid to lessen the crimson staining.

"It's fine. Really. I'm such an idiot." George suddenly becomes incredibly anxious about the situation, moving away from the table. "I'll just go to the bathroom to try and sort it out. Sorry." He darts away from Levi, towards the restroom; once he arrives in the men's, he heads straight for the sink and runs the tap aggressively. He growls at himself in disappointment, using some of the hand soap as a form of lather to prise some of the sauce out of his outfit. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, scowling at what he sees. "What a fucking twat you are, Georgios!" he hisses under his breath; then, he tries to calm himself down by taking a deep breath. "It's fine. Just clean up, and go back out there. It's going well so far. You've got this." Although he isn't quite so convinced, he removes enough of the staining for it to appear faded; then he heads back out into the restaurant. He takes a seat, tucking a napkin into his collar to avoid any other spillages. "I'm so sorry about that. My tiny brain."

"Don't dare apologise for anything," Levi assures him kindly, setting down his knife and fork — he didn't feel it was the best etiquette to continue eating while George was gone; however, he didn't want his food to go cold either. "These things happen. And hey — you have a pretty pink mark now. It's beautiful." He grins, exposing his perfectly-white teeth; this by itself causes George to smile in return.

"Well, it's just frustrating — you managed to get through yours effortlessly," he tries to justify, starting to get worked up again over the incident. "And I'm here like a tosser messing everything up—"

"Hey, George. Stop fretting over it." Levi makes sure their eyes are connected. "Now, I want to see that smile again. It's much nicer than seeing you panic."

George heaves a sigh; even if Levi didn't exist, he's humiliated by the knowledge that other people around him will have seen what happened. Despite this, he tries to force a smile; purely for the purpose of appeasing Levi. "Sorry," he apologises once again. "I think today has just been a bit overwhelming. But not in a bad way. I think it's just the adrenaline rush of it all."

"I understand. Really, I do." Levi's expression melts into one of empathy; his facial features soften to indicate he's being sincere. "I know it's a big thing — meeting a stranger who you've only spoken to on the phone. Trust me; I was nervous too. But you're a good guy, George. I can tell that a mile away. People make silly mistakes, and they have insecurities. We wouldn't be human without them. I think you need to cut yourself some slack and remind yourself that you are only human. Alright?"

George is unable to speak for a moment, after hearing these words; he has known that Levi is a very authentic person since they first started talking. However, seeing the subtle cues in his body language and the faces he makes is an entirely different experience to that of only hearing his voice through a crackling phone line. He finally gives Levi a mellow smile, unsure of how to respond to such meaningful words.

"There it is," Levi beams, propping one elbow against the table; then resting his chin against his hand. "There's the smile I wanted. We need to see some more of those — but only real ones. I don't allow fake smiles. I'd rather know your true feelings one-hundred percent of the time." He chuckles at his own sickly-sweet attitude. "But anyway, finish your meal. We can take another walk before your train, if you don't take all day."

Feeling a little better about the situation, George lifts his fork from the plate; and he begins to eat once again.

•••

"It's been fantastic," George gushes, as the pair wait for the train back to London. "I've really enjoyed my time in Goring."

"You better come back to visit again soon," Levi presses playfully. "What are you going to tell Steph about the outfit?"

"I have my work clothes in my bag. I'll change into them on the train so she thinks I've been at work," George answers. "I planned ahead. I'm not entirely stupid."

"You're not stupid in the slightest," Levi corrects him; he looks down the platform, into the distance. "Well, your train's pulling in. Thanks for coming ... I've really appreciated the company." He brings George in for a hug, patting his back before withdrawing again. "Safe journey home."

"Thanks." George turns around as the train arrives in. The doors open, allowing him to step inside. He waits by the window, so that he can wave Levi off as the train departs from the station. As the distance between them increases, Levi salutes to make George laugh. Once he's out of sight, George takes a seat; he decides to get changed later on in the journey.

Within an hour, George finds himself pulling back in to London. His stained yellow sweatshirt is a thing of the past; he is now dressed to impress in his usual white button-up, and his tie. His walk home is brief, but just long enough for him to have some silence — he embraces his final moments alone with his thoughts, as he replays the day over and over. He stuffs his hand into his over-shoulder bag, bringing out the envelope from earlier. He slides the photograph of Levi's mother's new puppy — Meg — out from it, examining the sweet features of the innocent animal. He can't help but smile, as this is an incredibly special token from this important day: the first time he met Levi. He returns the photograph to its hiding place in his bag, just as he arrives at his front door. He steps into the house, removing his bag; his jacket; and loosening his tie like he normally does.

"I'm home," he calls out to Stephanie.

"How was work?" she shouts back, from the living room. "They better be paying you extra for going in on your day off."

"It was fine, don't worry." George furrows his brows, feeling an almost unexplainable pang of sadness in his chest all of a sudden. He pops his head around the door, just so she can catch a glimpse of him. "I'm going to go to the bedroom, to rest a bit. I'll come down in a while."

"That's fine. Take it easy, babe." Steph flashes a quick smile; her show of approval towards his request.

He trudges up the stairs slowly, seemingly a little lost now that he's home again. It's as if Goring allowed him to enter a whole new world; one that feels so entirely different to the one he's in now. In Goring, he almost forgot every problem he's ever faced — it felt safe, and right. Returning to London is a shock to the system for poor George. He climbs onto his bed, grabbing his diary from inside his bedside drawer. Unlocking it, he flicks to the very back page; here, he finds the letter he wrote to Stephanie the day he planned to take his life. Finding it too painful to dwell on, he instead brings out the photograph of Meg once again; he slots it into the back of the diary above the note, so that it can be the first thing he sees when he next turns to this page. Flipping the pages back to the front of the book, he finds the next available blank space for him to write an entry on.

Dear Diary,

Today was crazy. I went to Goring, and I met Levi. And what a wonderful person he is! We went for a walk down by the river, and we chatted about life, and then we went for lunch. Even when I messed up my jumper, he didn't say a bad word about it. We went for another walk, spoke some more, and then he drove me back to the train station. What a brilliant day it's been, the first of hopefully many more. I'm so glad this man is a part of my life, I wouldn't know what to do, else. Onwards and upwards now??

Yog x

As he closes his diary, and leans back against his pillows, he can't help but think of all he has experienced today. And of course, his mind remains on the man who made it all possible — Levi.

•••

Chapter fifteen! I hope you're enjoying the story. xx