Who: UK!George, Lust What: Post sex-marathon When: ...let's say Friday? Where: George's house in London Warnings: Talk of sexytimes, at the least
George did not take saintly expectations of chastity as seriously as his brother. Obviously. George still remembered, with guilty fondness, the days when part of the qualification for sainthood had seemingly involved killing large amounts of your enemies. Sainthood was not nearly the moral high ground that people these days made it out to be, was the general point of his meandering thoughts.
All of that being said, however, he was feeling distinctly guilty as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and tried to figure out if he could still walk.
"I've done a bad thing," he muttered, to no one in particular. Lust was probably around. Somewhere.