laminated lavenders | dreamnotfound

8

8 - treehouse

~

the three boys, with the exception of george, walked into the house sleepily, dragging their suitcases behind them. wilbur stared at the house and blinked, "bloody hell, george. your house is huge!"

"it is." george smiled, "but, i don't know, i just felt so small in here. it was just me, my mum and...yeah." he trailed off, he didn't want to tell them about clay, yet. george doesn't know why he's withholding the information, however he just didn't want the blond to be their topic of conversation even though his mind has been filled with longing and loneliness.

"george! holy shit you had a treehouse?!" they heard sapnap yell from outside, he walked out unnoticed to explore - and his exploration did get him somewhere.

"oh, yeah." george mumbled, walking out the house through the back door in the kitchen. seeing the treehouse for the first time in a decade, he was slapped in the face by memories of his childhood. before george climbed up the makeshift stairs which were just planks nailed to the tree trunk, he kneeled down on the grass and dug out a certain spot down the roots - pulling out a small, golden key, and then he climbed, opening the door gently, greeted by a cloud of dust. "nobody's been here in a long time, it seems." he murmured.

the 'do not enter' sign was still intact, hanging on the door. the treehouse was something his father built for him before he passed, and george valued it very much.

staring at the walls, fingers running across dusty, polaroid pictures and drawings stuck on the wall. a gentle smile settled itself on george's face. the brit looked around the interior of the treehouse, romanticizing and picking up dried leaves off of the floor. george was home, for good or for the last time? he doesn't know. he could hear the blind mice that has plagued the walls, george listened close - hearing the traces of the past, of when he and clay gobbled down gas station food. suddenly, he was transferred back to 16 years ago.

what was peculiar, was something he didn't remember being there. it was a brown box, coated in dust, with a baby blue sticker on top; 'for george'. the aforementioned boy took the box into his arms, and shoved it inside his oversized hoodie pocket.

-

george, 7 years old, sniffled and breathed heavily, his back pressed against the wooden wall of the treehouse. the other kids made fun of him for not having a dad, he didn't even bother the kids, he just played in the park because clay had a hospital appointment. george can handle being away from clay for hours at a time, but the company wasn't unwelcomed.

the door creaked open, and the blond entered - instantly spotting his friend and his tear streaked face, "george? what happened?" he asked, crawling over to george.

"oh, clay." george frantically wiped his tears away with his sweater paws, "you got home from the hospital early."

"yeah," clay smiled at his friend, concern etched on his face, "what happened, georgie? you don't have to tell me if you're too sad to."

"nothing, i'm fine, it's just the kids in the park." george inhaled, staring down at his hands. "they made fun of me when i sat on the swings, said i didn't have a dad to push me." it was a stupid thing to cry about, or, at least george thought it was.

"well, that's not nice!" clay grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing and his face contorting into a frown. "d'you want me to beat them up for you?" he joked, if george didn't know clay, he would've thought the taller boy was serious.

george shook his head quickly, "no, i just wish everyone would leave me alone and just let me be." the brit murmured, looking up and seeing clay look a little hurt, "except you, of course. you can stay here with me." 

"yes! i knew it! you love me." clay smiled widely, shaking george by the shoulders, "george, you love me right? tell me you love me!" he continued enthusiastically, making george scoff. it has always been an inside joke between them, that george didn't love him - but clay was so wrong about that.

"of course, dummy, i love you." george smiled back, "you're the only one nice to me, and i love you." and so, the two boys leaned against each other and talked about nothing and everything all at the same time.

- 

when george went back into the house, sapnap and wilbur were dead asleep on the l-shaped couch and techno was nowhere to be found. his question of where his tallest friend was, was answered when he heard the front door open.

"i explored for a bit," techno explained himself after seeing george's questioning gaze, "i got us groceries."

"oh, thanks." george said genuinely, helping techno unpack the groceries and place them inside the fridge - which was surprisingly clean. they basked in the comfortable silence until techno asked him something.

"why'd you return here?" techno asked, and george stopped sorting the vegetables.

"i just wanted to clean this place up, it reminds me of my parents." george half-heartedly said.

"no, that isn't why." techno said gently, "george, it's easy to tell when you lie."

george finally continued sorting the groceries, but he couldn't help but remember clay's skin of pure white carnations, lighter than falling snowflakes, with twin orbs of delphinium ajacis and purple undertones. "i came here for someone, i guess."

"first love?" techno offered, and with george's silence - he got his answer. "don't worry, i won't tell the other two, but we'll be here for you, we can enjoy our time here while you go looking."

"thanks techno." george smiled, and they once again basked in the silence, cut short when sapnap woke up to look for food. wilbur looked at the contents of the fridge, and pulled some out, planning to cook them something. george and techno didn't comment on it - wilbur was a great cook and they trusted him. sapnap perked up and insisted to help, with wilbur agreeing enthusiastically. 

there, they all fell into conversation, and george momentarily forgot about the box within his pocket.

-

02/19/21 - first draft
03/09/21 - edited