George groaned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he managed, sitting up and reaching for his wand. "I wish I could. I wish I wasn't so fucking pissed. I wish one fucking thing would work out the way it's supposed to."
He reached for his shoe and slid off the edge of the bed, landing on his arse with a thud. Fuck. At least he was closer to his shoes. He couldn't do this. Not wonderful and perfect and crying, no. Not after Matthew and let's hook up... Not after 'the better part of two bottles'. He pulled on his shoe, then reached for the other.
"I can't do this, Kat. Not now. It's not fair and you know it. I can't even bloody think..." George managed to get to his feet, then sank on the edge of the bed.