George O'Malley had always hated the morning. If only he could just sleep a little bit longer… Ambling down the creaky stairs of the old house, George rubbed sleep from his droopy eyes, and told himself that he felt grayer than the twilight that seeped in through the uncovered windows in the living room.
George, as usual, was the first one up. Despite his dislike for waking up, the last thing he needed was to be late for work. The Nazi was terrifying enough without trying to think up punishments for tardy interns. Moving around the kitchen, George didn't notice the covered plate on the kitchen table until the coffee was sputtering out of the coffee maker and George went to sit down with a bowl of Wheaties. He lifted up the tin foil that covered the lump on the plate, revealing a huge, shiny chocolate cake.
George groaned. Izzie had obviously been baking again. She always did when she got home after having a good or a horrible day. At the thought of Izzie, George glared down into his cereal.
They all thought that it was Meredith, didn't they? Poor, silly George- in love with McDreamy's girlfriend- a girl who'd never look twice at George in a romantic way. Everyone was always giving George funny looks or teasing him, telling him he was "mooning" over her. But lately, it wasn't Meredith but Izzie that George couldn't get out of his head. It used to be that when he'd think of her, she'd be nagging him inside of his imagination, but now…
A horrible image jumped suddenly into George's mind- Karev, striding into the bar last night, pulling Izzie off of her barstool and generously kissing her. George shook his head and glared some more at his breakfast. Karev- that loathsome, repugnant, pig-headed jack ass- had waltzed in like he owned Joe's bar.
It wasn't until Karev had walked out of the bar as quickly as he had come that George felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had watched as Izzie laughed with Meredith and Christina about the kiss before taking a huge gulp of her wine and silently mouthing, "Wow". She hadn't stopped grinning for the rest of the evening, and George went to bed early feeling nauseous.
It was just- Izzie was so gorgeous. And she laughed all of the time. She looked fantastic when she laughed. George hadn't noticed before how pretty Izzie was, or just how much he liked Izzie, until he'd seen her through the opening in the elevator door the day George plugged a man's beating heart with his finger.
Meredith slumped into the kitchen and over to the coffee pot, interrupting George's thoughts. "Morning", she mumbled towards George. George just grunted back and stared into his cereal.
He looked up at Meredith and watched as she poured coffee into her favorite white mug. Of course, there was Meredith still. George would be the first one to deny he ever mooned over Meredith, but, secretly, Meredith was like… the sun. She lit everything up. It was too bad that that prick, Sheppard had done such a number on her. Now she wandered around in a daze, like she didn't know where she was. That light that George thought was so amazing about her had been snuffed out, and it was one of the saddest things George had ever seen happen.
George looked down at the foil-covered chocolate cake. He pushed his still-full bowl away from him and plunked his head down on the table. He groaned loudly to himself and shook his head slowly.
Above him, Meredith just watched him blankly. "George?"
George stopped shaking his head and closed his eyes. "I'm fickle." He said in a disgusted tone, more to himself than to Meredith. What made him ever think that he could live with Meredith and Izzie in a single, cake-filled, gloomily lit house?
I'm repulsively fickle! George repeated inside of his head. Banging his head once more on the table, George realized that this was going to be a long day.