A Demonic Dance

Chapter Thirty Eight: Dying alone

You go get your man

The words had echoed in Georges head for the next few days, refusing to leave him alone. He didn't... did he? Could he really be falling for Dream? Or was his sister just trying to mess with his head.

Do you like him? Or are you just pretending you don't because you're scared of what he'll say back?

He- He didn't think he was pretending... He was just, you know, not used to being so intimate to someone as he was with Dream. Truth be told he had no clue if what he was feeling was normal or not, of course he was close as hell with Sapnap and the others, that much was undeniable.

But he'd ever felt like this.

He didn't even think he'd be able to explain what 'this' was even if you asked.

It was like a part of him just kind of yearned for Dream - if that was even the right word- and like small butterflies fluttered in his stomach whenever he held his hand, kissed him on the forehead and pulled him towards him.

He'd, as of recently, been brushing it off as just a reaction to being with Dream 24/7, involving himself in intimate things he'd never even thought he'd see himself doing any time soon. But his sisters visit had made him realise... Made him realise that feeling may be because of something else.

It seems maybe sometimes, you need someone else to say it to you to be able to realise it yourself.

And his sister had practically screamed it in his face.

God. He'd really gotten himself into a pickle hadn't he.

And this was how George found himself sitting on his bed on a cold November night, head in his hands as his mind spun like a spindle, waiting for a thread to snap. For everything to become clear.

Yet the thread didn't snap, and nothing became clear, instead however, his mind was torn away by a booming bang, an array of sparkling lights visible from his window, lighting up the night with booms and cheers as the first few fireworks began to light up the sky.

Bonfire night.

Quite a strange night if George thought about it, of course England would be the sort of country that would commemorate a day to celebrate when someone tried to blow up their government. Because why the fuck not.

The bangs never really scared George. He remembered once when he went camping with his parents and they'd watched the fireworks on a hill by their pitch. (George had never really been a fan of camping, yet his parents still insisted he came along, even if it was November). A firework show had been set off but because of how far away they were there was a delay in sound.

Leah had found it hilarious, seeing the bright, colourful bursts of scintillating light and then having to wait to hear any sound.

Of course that wasn't happening now, the lights casting dancing shadows around the human, yet his mind was brought to it anyway.

"George?"

The male in question brought his attention away from the fireworks outside to the door where Dream was practically gripping the doorframe, his body visibly shaking.

"George what the hell was that." The blonde asked, his voice trembling slightly as another bang was let out, jumping visibly at the sound.

"It's just a firework Dream." George replied, patting the spot next to him as the demon walked over, glaring warily out the window as George pointed him towards it. "Look, next time you hear a sound, you'll be able to see a flash of lights that comes with it." And sure enough, a few seconds later when another boom as let out, there was a colourful array to follow it.