Spellcatcher - Dreamnotfound

Cold

If there could be one thing George didn't expect about the outdoors, it would be the cold.

He wasn't sure why he didn't expect it— Going outside wasn't new to the Magic— and with his cell, nor was the cold.

Maybe it was just the fact that George had been inside a cage for weeks that made the whole world seem different.

But, George supposed, that wasn't exactly something necessary to focus on at the moment, because— 'at the moment'— he was running.

The grass underneath his feet rustled and pulled away from each step in annoyance at the sudden displace.

Behind him, footsteps trailed his own, and he could just feel fingertips graze the back of his shirt. George presses his lips together against a yelp of fear, running faster and relishing in the icy breeze that claws at exposed skin.

The Magic darts along walls and dashes behind trees, smiling into the cold darkness as the stars watch with clear disinterest from above.

The fingertips brushed his back again, this time with more force and a palm to follow. Laughter bounced off of brick walls as force brought George to the ground, the silhouette of a human following just after.

George giggled as grass cushioned his fall, and though he knew he would probably have bruises, he didn't much care. Beside him, Dream was smiling too, sitting up to glance at the Magic.

"You okay?" He asked, holding out a leather gloved hand, palm up, as he stood.

George rolled his eyes, but smiled and nodded, as he took the hand. Vaguely, he was aware of the skin of Dream's calloused fingertips on his, but admittedly he was a bit distracted.

Because in front of him wasn't the Dream he knew— Well, maybe it was— but a smiling face with bright green eyes and cheeks flushed pink from cold. Blonde hair swirled with the wind as George stood, gently framing sweet freckles that pulled with a wry smile.

"You're..." A beat of silence. "..An idiot." George mumbled breathlessly after a moment, looking away with a scoff.

Dream laughed, and for the first time, the Magic could see the way his eyes crinkled just so, and the way his irises shone with colour. "That so?" 

"Very much so."

"Anyway, you're it." Dream drops George's hand with a nonchalant shrug, the ghost of a smile still dusted over his expression.

"I— You knocked me over! That's got to be.. like.. I don't know, a penalty or something." George protests, but Dream is already backing away.

"A penalty?" Dream snickers. "You're insane."

George grins. "I try to be." He fired back as Dream darted off in the other direction, trailing the taller quickly.

The two continued their friendly game of cat and mouse, the moon simply watching with her calculating gaze and gentle silvery shine that dusted the world with a pearly glow. Each blade of grass beneath aching feet swayed with the delicate breeze, each treetop dancing with the night song.

Laughter rose and bubbled warmly in George's chest, threatening to burst from his lips in a sweet melody of happiness. He pushed it down with each press of his feet against the soft ground, moving faster to catch up with Dream, who was far taller— But George, too, was quick.

Hours went on, the passing time gracefully carrying upon its shoulders a lowering moon. 

Dream and George sat in the grass, their chests rising and falling with the gentle lull of their own fatigue, the ghost of their previous laughter still lingering silently on lips pulled into grins that were beginning to ache. 

Beneath tingling skin, George could feel power surge through his veins from such exposure to the moon. Wave upon wave of magic made his eyes brighten and gently shooed the dark bags from underneath the Magic's eyes.

But despite this feeling, this power, that steadily grew and pulsed within a core of strength, George made no move to use it. He instead stayed, flopped with his back pressed pleasantly against frost tipped grass, with Dream a bit less than a foot away at his side.

Above, the first snow of the season drifted in swift flurries above their noses, landing and clinging delicately to drooping eyelashes and tousled, stray wisps of hair.

And only when the silver world was dusted in marshmallow white, only when the biting winter chill seeped from their skin to their bones, did they finally retreat inside, cheeks flushed and hearts pounding. 

✾☾✾

"You are genuinely the most idiotic human I have ever met." George huffed. 

Dream grinned against the dull sting of the cuts that dusted over his hands and elbows. "And how many humans have you had the pleasure of meeting?" He pressed, tone sarcastic. 

"Not many, but all of them were assholes. And if I'm being quite honest with you— And I am— you're probably the most.. what is it.. Asshole-ish out of all of them." 

"For some reason I don't find that difficult to believe." 

"I wonder why." 

Dream simply chuckled, not bothering to reply as deft, delicate fingertips carefully mended tattered skin. 

"How did you even get yourself this bad?" George sighed as his cloth grazed a particularly nasty cut. 

The assassin shrugs a little, earning himself a sharp glare from George at the movement. 

"I dunno, just a little scuffle with some higher class guards." 

"A 'little scuffle?'" George echoed incredulously as he patched a few smaller bruises. "This doesn't look like a little scuffle." 

Dream huffed. "Okay, maybe I wasn't doing my best, but I've been down here in the dungeons for half a month!" 

The Magic scoffed, focused eyes sparkling with annoyance. "Then don't get into a fight, idiot!"

Dream didn't reply, only hissed softly through his teeth as George fixed up the remaining scratches.

George huffed, pulling away from tattered arms to pull Dream's gloves away from his hands. The taller winced as the Magic's eyes fell upon cracked, red knuckles. Gently, George took the assassin's hands in his own. 

"What's this?" He asked, tone softer as the pads of his fingers rubbed comforting shapes into Dream's skin. 

Dream shrugged. "I was mad.." He mumbled quietly, eyes down. 

George didn't know how close he was to the line of how much they told eachother. Or maybe he did know, and didn't care. 

Either way, he passed the line. 

"Mad at what?"

Dream shook his head, snatching his hands away. "Why should you care?" He snapped, rapidly pulling his gloves back over his hands. 

George's brick walls returned, and he scoffed. "Well, I was trying to help!" He retorted as the door to his cage shut with a clatter. 

The sound echoed through the dungeons eerily. Dream barely cast him another glance through the bars. 

"I have the night shift. I'll see you later." The assassin growled lowly, grabbing the keys to the cells. 

The sound of metal clinking and footsteps faded as Dream left.

George snorted, eyes dark as he sat back in the corner he had used all those weeks ago.

Suddenly, the winter seemed a lot colder.

✾☾✾

—

Word count: 1182

they angry 

I'm sorry for updating a little late, I'll try not to do so next time :]

Have a wonderful day! <3 

-Melli-