Held

~4~

idk am i getting reads?? am i hallucinating??? HUH? enjoyyyy
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The man standing there was Clay's ex. They dated for a year before they inevitably broke up. That man was so abusive and toxic. Clay hasn't gotten over what he did to him. How could he be so dumb and fall into his trap? He wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone.

"George come on," Clay yanked his wrist and pulled him across the street. They were now running down the sidewalk.

"Where are we going!? Dream?? Can you answer me?" the brunette had to sprint to keep up with the taller's long legs. Dream only walked faster. "Ouch! Dream you're hurting me! Could you calm down and tell me what's happening?" George had gotten loose from Dreams painful grip and stood still. The place that was cut from circulation throbbed, George put his other hand around it in an attempt to soothe it. It did nothing.

All Dream did was keep walking. He walked into a subway and darted to the bathroom. George followed him and apologized to the workers for the intrusion buying a quick cookie to make up for it. The short man walked up to the bathroom and knocked on the door. No response at all. There was just sobbing and hiccups. Panic drew from his stomach into his throat. Is he okay?

TRIGGER WARNING ————————
PANIC ATTACK, ANGST
Clays perspective ————————————

His hands reached the cold tile floor, face dug in-between his legs, arms wrapped around his legs. He was rocking himself back and forth. Clay was scared. In these moments he had no one and he had no control. Unwillingly, he searched his pockets to find a small razor he keeps. It was a habit. Not a good one, but one his ex enforced. It was like he still had control. No. He did still have control.

Clay opened his eyes and put the razor against his fragile skin on his shoulder. Other scars littered near it. It was the spot his boyfriend- no ex, did it. He felt he had wronged. He pulled George too tight, he tried to take him for himself. How would anyone love him? He was a mess, ugly, unconfident, he had no purpose. Nothing to wake up to. Clay was disconnected from the world. Headphones on blasting and when he had to pay attention only one was taken off.

He had to pay. His eyes were blurry. There were banging and people trying to get through the door. Clay paid no attention, he couldn't, it wouldn't let him. White noise started to fill it all anyways. A burn was left on his shoulder. He pressed again and slit a bit too deep. Blood oozed onto the floor as he cut. He didn't feel it, he just knew by the look of it. Sweat and tears dripped down from his face to his hands. There was no way in telling what each drop was. 

TRIGGER WARNING OVER——

The door burst open onto the floor and people ran in. George's face filled with worry and tears. Dream didn't like him seeing him this way. He had ruined the date or whatever that was. Water was given to him and he just had a blank expression.

"DREAM ARE YOU OKAY?!!" tears rushed down as he hugged the man. More filled his eyes when he saw blood. 'How could this happen? Why did it happen? How could I have let it happen?' George's head was racing to the point where it hurt. He had gotten no response.

They sat there on the floor as his wounds were treated. It turns out Subway did have a first aid kit. It's probably protocol. George didn't let go of Dream. The last time he did he hurt himself and locked himself in the bathroom.

During the time Dream was in the bathroom George was getting help. He was asking the workers to open the bathroom only to receive the information that they had no idea where it was. They helped George break down the door as he told them what had happened. Well, at least what he experienced. He really didn't know anything.

That night, they walked out of the Subway hand in hand after paying the workers for the help. The walk was silent. At an intersection, they had finally parted ways. George didn't want to let go, not again. Dream apologized but had not explained anything. He walked away too quickly for any questions. George had also decided it was a long day so, he began walking home too.

George turned on the shower in his small apartment. He waited for the mirror to fog. It felt like forever as he waiting. Was Clay okay? Should he have walked him home? Maybe offered help? He stripped off his clothes and got in. The water was scalding hot but George didn't care. His head was somewhere else, worrying about someone else.

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820 words
tips?? crits?? overall thoughts??? idk how to write...