"George? George, why have you gotten yourself into this state?"

As the Greek slowly opens his eyes, all he sees are blurred images before him; he squints to partially mask some of the bright light that has spilled into the room from the window, groaning lowly under his breath at the intensity of his brewing headache. He regains some vision at last, glancing weakly to his left side to find that he's laying on the kitchen floor; the bottle of wine that his sister gifted to him is entirely empty, and smashed next to him. When his head turns to face the right, he spots some crushed beer cans and a half-empty bottle of whisky. As he moves his arm to lift his body up, he feels a nasty stinging in his hand; for he has just leant in the broken glass from the bottle. He lets out an agonising whimper at the shock, which encourages the only other individual in the room to help him up off the floor.

"I can't believe you've done this, George," she speaks again — it's Stephanie. "What kind of a day did you have yesterday, for me to arrive home and find you collapsed on the kitchen floor?"

Dizziness consumes the young man, and as a reflex, he moves his hand up to shield his eyes. Luckily, he uses the hand that hasn't been stabbed by the wine bottle; although, he continues to complain non-verbally about the pain. He attempts to stand himself up unaided, which is when an overwhelming feeling of nausea forces him to become more alert.

"Don't follow me," he warns, as he darts upstairs to the bathroom alone, stumbling along the way. He just about manages to make it to the toilet bowl before he violently brings up the contents of his stomach — which evidently, is ninety percent alcohol. Feeling sorry for himself, he leans the side of his face against the toilet seat, not caring how unhygienic it may be. His eyes close, as another rush of lightheadedness engulfs him; however, the excruciating sensation of the glass being lodged in the palm of his hand causes his eyes to snap open once more. "Fuck," he murmurs, still a little out-of-it.

He clumsily makes an attempt to remove some of the shards from his skin; this only causes him to cut the tips of his fingers on his other hand. Another shrill cry triggers Stephanie to come running up the stairs, to find her boyfriend draped across the floor.

"What am I going to do with you, George?" she asks rhetorically, bending down on her knees to aid him. "First of all, I'm going to get some tweezers. Don't touch your hand. I'll be back in a second." She briefly leaves the room, reappearing moments later with the instrument. "Okay. This will probably hurt, but please try to avoid moving around too much. We need to get the glass out of your hand." George tries to protest, but he knows she's only trying to take care of him. He extends his hand for her reluctantly, allowing her to gently pick out the little pieces. The feeling causes him to flinch and squeal every now and then; but after a few minutes, Stephanie has successfully removed the glass from his skin. "There, see? You did it. Now, we need to get your hand bandaged up." She brings out some bandages from the bathroom cabinet, slowly winding them around his bloodied hand. "You're doing really good," she encourages softly.

"Fuck!" he hisses, urgency in his tone.

"Done," Steph announces. "Now, we're going to talk about what the fuck happened yesterday, and last night."

"I'm sorry," George apologises immediately, falling helplessly into her arms as he begins to cry. "I was so shit y-yesterday and I'm still shit today. I didn't mean to overreact. I just felt sad a-and I took it out on you." He pauses for breath, sniffling loudly. "All I've done lately is be a shit boyfriend. And more importantly, I've been a shit father to the baby that's not even here yet. You should just leave me now; save yourself the hassle of dealing with me later on."

"I'd never do that, George." She carefully wipes away the little droplets that have fallen down his face. "You had a bad day. We all have them."

"I-I was so worried about you last night," he admits. "I called Mel at nearly one in the morning asking where you were."

"I was with my friend," she answers. "I'm sorry I didn't call home to let you know. I didn't know what time you'd be back home from wherever you went."

"I went to Levi's house," he tells her. "I just needed a friend to talk to. I didn't want to disturb Andrew."

"I guess that makes sense. Were you there until late?"

"Until about ten ... eleven o'clock. Then I tried to drive home, and ... "

"That's a point, actually. Where's the car? I didn't see it when I came home," Steph interrogates, furrowing her brows. "What happened to the car?"

"I got pulled over by the police on my way home. They were doing random spot checks with breathalysers. I'd gone over the legal alcohol limit so they took me to the station."

"What?" By now, Stephanie is extremely confused. "So what happened to the car?"

"It's still over there. Levi had to come out to drive me back home," George explains, with little emphasis in his voice. "The police said they'd return my car at some point."

"At least they didn't arrest you, I suppose." Stephanie stands herself up, pulling the chain to flush the toilet for George. "But I assume they didn't let you off the hook."

"I got fined. But I already paid it," he assures her. "So you don't need to worry about it."

"You sound as if you had a bit of a crazy night," Stephanie evaluates. "But I guess I had a crazy day to make up for it."

"Have you slept?" George questions sincerely. "Because you'll need to, if you haven't."

"I got a couple of hours at my friend's house," she tells him. "But maybe I could do with a little more shut-eye."

"Go for it. The bed's all yours." Despite how poorly George has slept, he knows that Stephanie requires the rest more than he does; he knows that it isn't her fault he mistreated her, and that he blacked out the night prior.

• • •

Dear Diary,

It's been a little while since I last wrote anything here, and it would be a lie to say life hasn't changed drastically. In the last few weeks I've found out I'm expecting a baby with Steph, and I've also told Andrew and Mel the truth about being gay. Luckily they reacted well to it, and it's made me feel a little more confident about telling other people too.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this baby that Steph and I are going to be having next year. It's made things a little more difficult in terms of my emotions. Pregnancy hormones are no joke, even if you're not the one experiencing them! I want to be with Levi more than anything, but lately I've been so looking forward to the arrival of my baby. As of yet, I'm unsure on what's going to happen regarding my ability to visit them once they're born. I hope with all my heart that Steph will give me the benefit of the doubt and allow me to see them.

Sooner or later I'll have to tell her the truth, which scares me in an entirely different way to before. Originally, I was scared of her reacting badly to my sexuality. Now, I'm just scared that my son or daughter will be ripped away from me. It's crazy, how adamant I was about not wanting children. But now the opportunity has been presented to me, I couldn't be more excited. It's a funny thing, is love.

I've been thinking about some names I like. Of course, I never wanted to partake in name choosing so that I could avoid forming an emotional connection ... but I just can't help myself. I like Susie for a girl, or Diana. Although, I do worry that people will assume we'd be naming a daughter after Princess Diana. As much as she's lovely, that's not quite the association I want people to make! For a boy, I like Lysander, or Alexander. I believe both names are originally Greek, so it would tie in with my heritage nicely. I've not voiced any of these opinions to Steph yet, because I don't want to try and influence her decision in any way. It's her choice, after all.

I'm hoping from here, things only get better. I'm hoping things will work themselves out, because the lord knows I'm terrible at using my own common sense!

Yog x

Once George has completed the first entry he's written in a few weeks, he pops the lid back on his pen. He rips a single sheet from the diary; then, as usual, he replaces the padlock over the opening of the little book, tossing it to one side. With the paper he has torn out, he begins to make a list of names so that he can remind himself later on.

Baby names

1. Lysander

2. Alexander (Alex) — Alexandra for a girl

3. Susie

4. Diana (Di)

"There must be more than that," he murmurs to himself, trying to rack his brain as hard as he can for inspiration. "Oh."

5. Isabella (Izzy, Bella)

6. Eleanor (Ellie)

7. Anthony (Ant)

8. Julian — Julia for a girl

9. Cassandra (Cassie)

10. Michael (Mike)

"That'll do for now," he tells himself, noticing that he is starting to feel the tiredness creep in from his previous restless night. Once more, he seals his pen; then, he sets it down against the list he has created as he reads over the names he has selected so far.

• • •

When George awakes, he takes a moment to process what's going on next to him; he finds Stephanie sprawled across the sofa by his side, looking down at something intently. He rubs at his eyes to rid the remnants that have accumulated in the corners, before sitting himself up to check what Stephanie is staring at.

"Hey," he speaks, to demonstrate that he's alert. "You aren't meant to be looking at that."

"I love Alex," she beams, raising the sheet of paper George wrote on earlier, and pointing to the name. "And the full version of the name can be dependant on the gender, can't it?"

"Maybe it's too early to be making final naming decisions," George snickers softly, gently retrieving the paper from her hand. "It was just my initial ideas. The list will get longer as time goes on. But it's you who gets to choose the name — I told you before."

"Well, I like Alex," she reiterates playfully. "But anyway ... " Her eyes move to George's collarbones, as she spots something unfamiliar. "What's that necklace? How did I miss that before?"

"Oh, this?" His fingers toy with the crucifix locket that Levi gifted to him for Christmas; with all the commotion surrounding the police, he forgot to remove it before returning home. "It's just a necklace I got. Had it ages, but only just started wearing it. The cross pattern is nice, don't you think?"

"Do you have a photo of me and you in there?" Steph quizzes. "Because it's one of those that you can open up, isn't it?"

"There's no photos in there," George lies. "When I find my favourite photo, I'll be sure to add it in."

"Or maybe you could put a photo of baby in there ... once they're born."

"It's got two photo spaces inside. I can do one of us, and one of baby. How's that sound?" George offers, desperate to change the subject as soon as he can.

"Okay." Steph smiles, leaning her head against George's shoulder. "Having our own little family is going to be amazing, isn't it? Just you, me, and Alex."

"You're set on that name, aren't you?" George laughs.

"Definitely. It's adorable." She grins, resting a hand on her stomach; she's too early on in the pregnancy to have a visible bump yet, but the thought of their child growing inside of her is almost more than she can handle.

"Alex Panayiotou," George says, testing the flow of the name. "Alexander Panayiotou. Alexandra Panayiotou. I suppose they all sound sweet, don't they?"

Steph leans up, to plant a kiss on his lips. "The sweetest."

• • •

George has gotten himself into a bit of a calamity, hasn't he? Hope you're still enjoying. xx