I Fell in Love with a Boy in a Maid Dress - Dreamnotfound

Something I wish could be forgotten

The TV screen went black and the credits started to roll. Me and George had watched a movie to stop him from falling asleep early. Dog was snoring away in one end of the couch.

On the other end, where we were, George was laying practically on top of me, with our legs tangled together. He reached over for the remote to switch off the TV, but was struggling a bit.

"Your arms aren't long enough George. Cause you're short." He turned his head to me and furrowed his eyebrows angrily.

"No. You're just really tall. In fact, you get the remote, since you're so tall." He took his arm back and clung to me, making it difficult for me to move.

"I can't." George isn't as strong as me, but if I move too far at the wrong time, he'll end up falling onto the floor, which I want to avoid.

"Well I guess that means we'll have to stay like this forever!" He digs his head into my hoodie and tilts his head up so he's looking at me. His eyes were glued to me, as if looking away would make me shatter into pieces and fade out of existence.

"You're so clingy George!" I joke, but George doesn't pick up on the comedic tone in my voice. He sits up, and a frown falls upon his face. I feel disappointed at the comfortable warmth disappearing.

"Sorry, I'll stop." He reaches for the remote, then turns the TV off. I sit up too, and gently put my hand on his shoulder.

"George, I was joking. I enjoy it when you cling to me and when we spend hours cuddling. If I could, I'd spend the rest of my life with you in my arms." He meets my gaze after a few long seconds and I see the pale skin on his face now having a pink tint to it.

I then realize how the statement I made definitely wasn't platonic, and of course I was hoping that George hadn't picked up on the overly affectionate tone of my voice.

"Good." He slips his arms under mine and hugs my tightly. I can smell the shampoo he uses. Sweet like flowers and candy. A scent I'll never get sick of. So many things remind me of George. Lately he's been the only thing on my mind.

My thoughts are interrupted my my phone ringing, virbating towards the edge of the coffee table. I take it off the table and me and George both look at the screen. I answer the video call from Nick.

"Hey Clay! And you too George." His phone is placed on his desk and he's rapidly clicking away and tapping at his keyboard. Probably playing Minecraft.

"Hi Nick, how are you?" I ask him while George simply waves. Nick waves back through the screen, then returns his hand to the mouse.

"I'm great. How about you two?"

"We just got a new puppy." I look over the phone at Dog, who's still asleep peacefully. My eyes return to the screen and George rests his head on my chest, sliding down slightly.

"I know, I saw George's tweet about it, with all the heart emojis." He laughs quietly and I roll my eyes at him. He doesn't notice it though as he's too focused on whatevers happening on his monitor. George smiles to himself shyly and I can see him nervously fiddling with the hoodie he gained from raiding my closet again.

"So, I know the last party was only yesterday but I've got another one on Friday, and I assume you guys will be going." I instantly get plagued with flashbacks of what I saw last time. How I found George, and the regret I felt for leaving him alone.

George moves away from the hug and stands up. I watch him walk out of the room and catch a glimpse of the pained look on his face. "I'll call you back later." I hung up, not bothering to wait for a response.

I stand up but by the time I get out of the doorway, I don't see George anywhere near. "George?"

No response.

"George?" No signs of any sort of response. Again, but louder this time. I frantically start opening all the doors. Dogs small footsteps echo through the hall, as he follows close to me.

I make my way up the stairs, doing the same as before. "George, where are you?"

I open the door to his room. Well, attempt to, but it doesn't open. The door is locked and I can't get through. "George, could you open the door please?"

It takes a few moments but he opens the door, it clicks and the handle turns. When I finally see him, he looks much worse than before. The tears are streaming down his face at rapid speeds, and the hurt in his expression is easily noticeable.

I step into the room and wrap my arms around him, pulling him close to my body. His uneven sniffles and sobs break my heart, and I rub gentle circles across his back to try and calm him.

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