I go to our small fridge and kitchenette to start on breakfast. We’re just two college kids in a joint dorm room, but I liked to pretend I was keeping a neat apartment. I’ve been George’s official ‘companion’ since I was 13, since he had become too old for a governess. Even though he was passed 18 now, there was no way I was going to let him go off to university alone. I pull open the refrigerator door and blink.
“Oh Georgie,” I chuckle to myself. I pick the television remote out of the spot where a bottle of diet soda used to be. The plastic is cold. I walk back to the bedroom area, where George is sitting up but struggling to stay awake.
“Georgie, love?” I set the remote on the nightstand.
“I’m awake, I’m awake,” he mutters in his Hampton accent. He then yawns so hard his jaw cracks.
“No you’re not. Honey, I’m ordering you to go back to bed. You’re exhausted, pushing yourself so hard.”
“Nnnn can’t. I got class…” George fumbles for his glasses but knocks them off the table. He stares at them on the floor. “Damn.”
“I’ll call your friend Amy to take notes for you. You’re taking a huge class load this semester, you can miss English literature. Now come on.” I guide him backwards by the shoulder and he uncurls. “Come on. Into bed with you. Come on.” George grumbles, but he’s malleable under my direction. “That’s it now. Here’s your pillow.”
George latches onto his pillow and nuzzles back down to bed. “Aw yis, it’s still warm.”
I smile. “Now you rest. I’ll wake you for your chemistry class.”
“Mmmnnf. Dorian?”
“Yes Georgie?”
“Come snuggle with me.”

I smile. “You want me to snuggle with you?”
“You have to replace Bearington,” he slurs, nearly asleep.
I cluck. Poor lad, he’s losing it. Bearington was a large stuffed bear from his childhood that had not only fell apart, but was discovered that over one spring a mouse borrowed in and gave birth in it when Georgie was 14. We burnt it and buried Bearington’s ashes on his family estate.
“Well, I guess I can replace Bearington.” I don’t get under the covers because George tends to latch on, so I sit on top and stretch out next to him. George throws an arm over me and pulls me close, so my head is tucked under his chin.
“I’m glad you came with me,” he confesses, before falling back asleep.
I blush deep, even though he doesn’t see it. I don’t think George’s father would have let me go off to university with him if he knew George was gay. If only he knew how close we were…and how close we were becoming…  I felt very lucky indeed to watch my young charge grow up into a man. It would be a sad day when I handed him over to another man to marry, but some tiny private part of me hoped the one walking down the Georgie would be me.

I ended up not getting up after George dozed off. I just laid there, and thought about growing up with him, and what the future held. For the first time in years, I lost track of time, and when we both woke up, George was late for chemistry. 

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Text is fictional.