Four years, though. When Trish was from, he was already with Angelina, wasn't he? He stiffened a bit out of habitual anxiety that cropped up every time he thought about his future, though in his defense, he was getting better. Slowly. Very slowly. Painfully slowly. But the better-thing was there. Sort of. He exhaled slowly, trying to mask it just as a normal breath and trying equally as hard to relax his shoulders back down and carry on the conversation.
"Well, I'll make sure you get the map. Hand deliver it and all," he teased. It wasn't up to his usual caliber, but George would get back up to it in a minute or so. He kept himself focused on walking to the restaurant though. It was comforting yet a bit strange at the same time to have someone so close.
"You can tell me and Fred apart that easily, can you?" George joked, nudging her a bit. "Oh, and Trish, you didn't even notice! I'm ashamed of you. Look." With his free hand, he reached up and pulled back his beanie to reveal that the ear which he had lost was now regrown and quite functional! Well, sort of regrown, but very functional.