Nightmare

Six

He regained conciousness quickly, his eyes darting around the room moments after he opened them.

He was in his own bed, in his own room, but it was still dark outside. The lights were on, and although he felt like he had just woken up, they weren't hard on his eyes.

He slid off the mattress and onto his feet, eager to investigate whether the house was different, or if he had in fact woken up hours later having not even dreamt.

He placed his hand on the door handle, and before he could turn it, someone on the other side did so and slammed the door into Clay's face.

He cursed loudly and pushed the door back at the person before realising who it could be.

'GEORGE?!' He began to panick - was his friend going to be mad at him? 'George I'm so sorry.'

To his surprise, George giggled as he held his hand to his forehead and winced in pain. 'It's okay dream, haha. I thought you would be in here.' Phew.

'Yeah, I just got up. Where's Sapnap?' He asked, expecting their younger friend to be right behind George.

'Oh, I dunno. I woke up downstairs and I didn't see him.' He said, looking confused.

'Downstairs?' Dream slid between George and the doorframe, looking over the balcony at the sofa in the lounge. A few pillows were strewn on the floor where George had gotten up. Something deep inside him told him to grab them, hug them close to him, smell them.

'Where are you going?' George shouted as Clay proceeded to run down the stairs.

'I just gotta check the spare room, Sap might have spawned in there. You can wait for me in there.' He shouted, watching his friend carefully to make sure he was fully in the room, and door closed before he could continue.

He picked up a pillow by his feet, and brought it to his chest. He laid his chin on top of it, breathing deeply. He could smell George's weak cologne on it. It usually smelled like any other man's scent - but this was different.

He found comfort, warmth and content in the metallic fumes. He brought it to his lips, resting them on its cotton surface.

He wished it were George's shirt, or jacket, or anything that he had worn for that matter.

If only this could carry over to the real world, so he could always have a something to remind him of George when he was feeling lonely.

But it didn't, and he didn't need anything to remind him of George right then, because he was currently upstairs. In his room. Presumably, on his bed. Waiting for him.

He thrust the pillow to the ground, and walked back upstairs. Everything inside him told him to run, but he had to play it cool, of course.

'Didn't do a very good job of that.' He muttered to himself, reflecting on the night before.

The door creaked as he pushed it open to find George sat cross-legged on his bed. He looked up at Clay nervously, waiting for him to say something to start a conversation.

'So, Georgie. How was your day?' He grinned.

'It was good. But I was waiting the whole time to see you again, after last night.' He smiled back, fiddling with the duvet beneath him.

'Wait, I thought you couldn't remember what happened at the beach?' A confused expression overwrote his former smile.

'Huh. I didn't say that.' He looked away, out of the window, seemingly guilty.

'George, is there something you're not telling me?' He laid a hand on his friend's knee, heart beating fast as he did so.

'Yeah.' He looked back at Clay, making eye contact. 'My day wasn't good, it was awful.'