Note: this chapter contains some reference to self-harm.

•••

"The next station will be, Goring and Streatley. If you are leaving the train, please make sure you have all your personal belongings with you. Please ensure you have all your tickets, as they will be required when exiting the station. We thank you for travelling with us, and wish you a safe onward journey."

The train begins to slow on the tracks; it's by this point, that George is feeling extremely anxious. The journey has been a pleasant one — very quiet, as not many people seem interested in travelling from London to Reading on a Wednesday, after rush hour. George takes a few steady breaths to calm his nerves; this helps only minimally, so he accepts that he must leave the train with his heart palpitating. The train finally pulls into Goring and Streatley Station; the doors open, allowing George to exit. With his over-shoulder bag and his ticket on his person, he takes a quick glance around; he notes the pretty flowers that are planted by the welcome sign; the very few platforms (including the one he's stood on); and the old building which holds the ticket office and the bathrooms.

"Well, this is nice," he comments to himself, as he prepares to leave the premises. This, in reality, is his way of distracting himself from how frightened he is about what the day will bring. As he passes the entrance gates to the station, his eyes dart from left to right in a search for anybody who could be Levi. When he spots nobody, he sticks his hand in his jean pocket; he pulls out a slip of paper, with a car registration number on it. A couple of nights prior to today, they had discussed their meeting arrangements over the phone; Levi had given George his car number plate, so that George could locate Levi's car once he arrived at the station. He memorises the number in his head; then, he looks up, scanning each car that surrounds him. When he sees the one that matches his paper, his heart sinks into his stomach.

"Oh, my god," he murmurs, his breath hitching in his throat. "That's the one. Be cool, George. Be cool. That's the one." He continues his little pep talk to himself, as he slowly approaches the car. Before he can get within twenty metres of it, the door on the driver side of the car opens. "Shit," George curses to himself, as a part of his running commentary.

The owner of the car gets out of the vehicle; this is the first time he gets the chance to take a look at the person he's only ever known as a stranger. The man is of a tall, slender build like George; his ebony hair is slicked into a quiff, with sideburns melting into designer stubble across his face — and oh, his face! He has sleek eyebrows that complement his olive green eyes (although, the green is slightly faded for George, such with his partial colourblindness); his thick dark lashes contrast his pale complexion flawlessly. He is a well-dressed man — a double-breasted black coat comes to his knees; with a black button-up shirt sitting neatly underneath. Black skinny jeans perfectly contradict the glossy patent formal shoes on his feet. This man, Levi, stands confidently as he waits for George to reach him; he keeps his hands in his coat pockets for warmth, with a casual smile playing on his sharp features.

"So you're the man named George." His voice is even more mysterious in real life, than it ever has been over the phone. "It's a pleasure to finally put a face to the name."

Levi's demeanour is the exact opposite of George's; George forces himself to swallow, to rid the lump from his oesophagus. "Y-Yes. It's great to meet you, too, Levi." He extends an arm out for Levi; it's a shaky one, but he tries to hide this.

Levi finds George's shyness endearing; regardless, he takes his hand and shakes it graciously. "You don't have to be nervous around me, you know. You know I wouldn't hurt you — well, unless you wanted me to."

Feeling perhaps a little more comfortable now, George chuckles at the remark. "Sorry. I just didn't really know what to expect from this. This is all a little surreal to me."

"What?" Levi scoffs playfully. "Meeting me and seeing my pretty face for the first time?"

"Just this whole thing. Nobody knows I'm here." He acknowledges Levi's ego boost, but ignores it as a subtle jibe at him. "Especially not Steph."

Levi opens his car door once more. "I was teasing, don't worry." He gestures for George to get in the passenger seat, as he ducks down into the driver side. Once they're both settled inside, he continues. "And for the record, I was right."

"About what?" George's brows furrow in confusion.

"I said the other day, that I'd never met an ugly gay man," he explains, jogging George's memory. "My statement still stands. You're not bad-looking, Mr Georgios."

"How many times have you rehearsed that name before I got here?" George laughs; his eyes averting from Levi, to the bag in his lap. His shyness from meeting Levi has been replaced now — with a shyness from how attractive he finds this stranger to be.

"Maybe a few more than I'd care to admit." Levi starts the ignition of the car, before pulling away from the road outside the station. "But anyway, I'll take you to the village centre. There's a couple of places there we can go to. Have you eaten today?"

"I had breakfast, so I guess we could have something later on," George answers. "Stephanie always makes me something for work. Remember, that's where she thinks I am today."

"Of course." Levi's eyes squint a little, as he concentrates on the road ahead of him. The journey is only brief, because Goring isn't the largest place in England; so they soon arrive into the centre. Levi parks his car outside his home, which is only a few hundred metres from where the facilities are. "Nearest local is just down the road. We can go there later on if you like."

"Sounds good," George agrees, not having enough knowledge of the area to dare argue. "So, what do we do until then?"

"There's a river that runs under the bridge over there." He points across the village, at a large bridge; this is half road, half pedestrianised. "The views are stunning alongside the water. I sometimes walk Mum's dogs down there."

"We could go for a walk down there, if you like?" George suggests, unsure of what else he could possibly bring to the conversation. "It does look lovely."

"That's decided then. Come on." Levi leads George away from his car, towards the water. Along the way, they walk past a pretty cottage; a little independent shop; and a beautiful open area of grass, with various flowers budding across it. They arrive at the river edge — the view is breathtaking. George has never known anywhere in the country to be so aesthetically-pleasing as this. He takes in every stunning speck of scenery; from the ducks and the swans that paddle along the rippling water; to the gentle swaying of the trees in the crisp autumn breeze.

"This is amazing," George gasps, in awe of all that he is witnessing before him. "How could you keep such a gorgeous place to yourself all this time, huh?"

"I did offer for you to come sooner than this," Levi reminds him, with a snicker. "You're the one who said you'd pass."

"That was because of not knowing you. Not because I didn't want to explore a new place." George spots a bench conveniently perched along the public footpath, so he heads in the direction of it. "Come on, let's just sit and take it all in."

"Who's the host here?" Levi calls to him, deciding to run to catch up to him. Once they both arrive at the bench, they take a seat next to one another. "So, George. I have something for you."

"Really?" His brow cocks in slight disapproval of what Levi could possibly have up his sleeve.

"Yeah! Don't worry, it isn't a bunch of flowers, or a box of chocolates. I'm saving that for next time," he teases; his half-hearted hint at flirtation. He pulls out an envelope, handing it to George. "Don't say I don't give you good stuff."

"What is this?" George asks rhetorically, as he unseals the envelope. When he sees Levi laughing uncontrollably, he begins to sense the jokiness behind whatever is inside. He pulls out a photograph; it's of a Golden Labrador sitting obediently. "It's a dog?"

"It's my mum's dog, Meg! You said you wanted a photograph," Levi elaborates, his tone full of amusement. "But I figured I'd give it to you face-to-face, rather than be a creep and ask for your address to post it like you wanted."

"You're ridiculous," George spits with a grin, stuffing the photograph back into the envelope. "But she is cute — I'll give you that. So I'll thank you, just this once."

"You're most welcome, Georgios." Even Levi can't keep a straight face when using his full name, by now. "Sorry. I'll stop calling you that."

George is a little too giddy to care about what name he is addressed by. "I don't mind. Call me what you like."

"My boyfriend?" Levi jokes, shaking his head quickly. "I'm messing. It was an awful attempt at humour." He swats the air dismissively, deciding it's best to change the subject. "But anyway, what time is your train home again? I'll drop you off at the station just before it's due."

"I think it's around 4:45PM," George responds, sliding his sweatshirt sleeve up a little to check his watch. "And it's currently 11:03AM. We have plenty of time left, yet."

Levi notices something on George's arm, that he wishes he hadn't. "George? Can I ask something serious?"

"I'm sorry," George apologises quickly; having realised exactly what Levi is referring to. In all honesty, he had forgotten about harming himself a couple of weeks ago. "I forgot to tell you about it. I swear I would've told you, if I remembered to."

"Is it recent?" Levi's expression has melted into one of genuine concern; as if knowing George has done this hurts him personally.

"It was just before I tried to overdose," he recalls softly, slipping his sleeve back over the large scar that adorns his dark-haired skin. "It was after I hung up on you that time, because you said you understood how I felt. When I was overreacting."

"Don't worry about it." Levi rests a supportive hand on the same arm George injured. Their eyes meet, so Levi uses this as his opportunity to indicate his authenticity. "You were in a very dark place. Nothing could have saved you that day. But I'm just glad you're here today, to talk to me about it."

"Well, you're the reason I'm still here," George confesses, a tinge of sadness in his heart. "By this point, I don't have much else. My mother, and my sisters. Andrew too, perhaps. But they don't know the truth, either."

"Well at least somebody knows about it," Levi smiles, ensuring his doesn't take his eyes off of George even for a moment. "And luckily, that person is me. And I'm glad it is. I wouldn't want anybody else having that honour."

"It's hardly an honour, knowing about someone's internal battle with themselves over whether to stay alive or not," George retorts, his self-deprecation heart-wrenching to hear. He shrugs, as if what he's been through is nothing at all. "But still, I'm not there now. I'm here, in Goring, with some crazy guy I met over the phone by accident. How the fuck did this happen?" As Levi finally looks away, and into the distance, George takes the chance to examine his side profile — this man is so effortlessly graceful; he has an air of elegance about him that George has never seen in anybody else in his life.

Levi lets out another chuckle at George's words, but his eyes remain fixed on the lake before them. "Lord knows. It was my fault though. Although, calling the wrong number has at least given me someone to relate to."

"Why do you hide who you are from the world?" George suddenly blurts; this causes Levi's head to snap around to look at him again. "What do you have to lose, with everyone knowing you're gay?"

"Nothing as such. I just don't feel the need to make a big song and dance about coming out." He releases air from his nostrils, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. "And you? Other than Stephanie, what do you have to lose?"

"I don't know how anyone would react. I'm just not ready to find out, yet. The idea makes me feel sick." His gaze shifts to the gravelly floor beneath him, as he feels too ashamed to look at the man sitting next to him. "It's the not knowing. If I knew everyone would be fine with it, I'd have done it years ago. I wouldn't be in the mess I'm currently in."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. You'll be ready one day," Levi reassures him sweetly, patting George's back. "When you find a man who loves and respects you — makes you happy — maybe it'll push you to finally do it. Someone who makes you feel proud enough to be who you were born to be."

George nods in understanding of Levi's words, hoping deep down that he's right. "I'm praying that's how it'll work. Otherwise, I don't know what I'll do."

"Well, you don't have to worry about it for now." Levi sits back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other to get comfortable. "You haven't found Mr Right, yet."

In his distracted state, Levi doesn't notice George observing him again. The sweet, young Greek can't help but shudder just looking at every atom of this man's existence; the way his dimples show when he smiles; or the way his heavily-sprayed quiff floats against the breeze. George's eyes flit gradually to Levi's hands; they're large and masculine, with well-maintained nails. His mind skips over any concept of time — as he imagines a wedding ring upon Levi's finger; one that would signify their union as partners. The corners of his mouth move upwards at the thought, until he remembers where he is; so he zones back in to reality. He frantically pushes the images from his head; and just in time, too — as this is when Levi looks back at him.

"So, did you want to do lunch yet? Or is it too soon?"

"Lunch is f-fine," George stammers, hoping he doesn't get caught red-handed in his wholesome fantasies.

"Awesome. There's a place not too far away. We can stop there to grab something." Levi rises from the bench; this encourages George to do the same.

As the pair walk back into the village centre, George can't help but look across at Levi; the same butterflies return to his stomach with each passing glance he makes.

•••

Ah they finally met! How sweet are they? xx