Slow Dancing || DreamNotFound

3

TW's: mentions of past abuse.

-George POV-

(This is George dreaming.)

"Love, calm down, it's okay." I spoke softly to my angry lover. 

He was mad because his friend ditched him to go smoke with some other guy or some shit. 

"don't tell me to calm down." he screeched into my ear, walking toward me and towering over me. "I tell YOU what to do. You got it?" He spat at me angrily. 

"okay, love." I said, suddenly scared of him, backing away slightly into a corner. 

And that's when he did it for the first time, he slapped me across the face. The pain rose up to my forehead and left tears in my eyes, begging to be released. I held in my tears and looked to the ground. He stopped off to our shared room and left me crying on the floor in a ball. 

(End of dream.)

I got woken up by someone shaking me, "hey, are you okay?" I opened my eyes and saw Clay next to me.

"yeah." I managed to get out. 

"you started crying in your sleep, I got worried. Are you sure you are okay?" He said to me, putting a arm on my shoulder that was in a blanket. 

"not really but I will be." I said, immediately regretting saying that. I brought my small hands up to my face and closed my eyes hard, "sorry." I said again because I probably made it awkward. 

"do you want to talk about it?" He asked me. I shook my head no and he rubbed my back a little bit. "okay, just know I'm here for you." 

"thanks." I said softly as he walked out of the room, closing the curtain behind him. 

"get dressed and stuff while I make breakfast." he called out as I climbing out of bed. "oh and dress really warm, it's snowing again and  I want to go get coffee from a good coffee shop down the road."

"kay!" I called back, getting dressed in a white sweater with overalls. 

I opened the curtain and walked toward the stools at the kitchen, wondering what he was making. My bare feet slapped the hard wood floors as I walked, "you are very loud georgette."

My face made the representation of ">:(" and then I sat on a stool, watching him cook. He looked... hot when he cooked. George, stop. 

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and scrolled through twitter, reading comments and liking posts to distract myself from Clay. I was almost caught up on my feed when a plate clunked down in front of me, "here." Clay said softly and then walked across the table to sit next to me, carrying his own plate.

"Thanks!" I said excitedly looking at the small piece of toast with white frosting on it. "what is this?"

"A toaster strudel." He said, taking a bite of his and red filling came out. 

"What the fuck is that?" I asked, my fuck sounding more like fok. 

"American food." He responded in a terrible British accent. 

I took a bite of the piece of toast and it tasted really good. There was, like, a cream cheese filling in the middle that made it better. He looked over at me with questioning eyes. "do you like my American food?" He said with a small wheeze. 

"your breakfasts are cheap, but good." I said, pulling up a picture of a normal england breakfast. The first search to pop up was of fry-ups. 

Fry-up consisted of sausage, bacon, eggs, and beans, or at least the one I made normally. 

"how do you eat all that but still stay skinny?" He asked me with wide eyes, looking at the picture. I shrugged and went back to eating my sTrUdEl. 

After we ate and I cleaned up the kitchen we sat on the couch for awhile on our phones, "Want to go ice skating today?" Clay asked me after I put down my phone and was looking out his big window in the small living room. 

"sure!" I replied excitedly. 

We both got ready and got in his blue truck, all the roads had been shoveled so we got to the rink in about 10 minutes, "c'mon." He said, getting out of the car and walking toward the building. I quickly got out of the car and ran to him, almost slipping on ice halfway there. I caught up to him as he was opening the door, "georgette." He said with a small bow. I playfully hit him on the head and continued walking inside. 

The ice skating rink was huge, there were string lights hanging on the high wood ceilings and about 20 people on the rink. 

We both got our ice skates and started skating, what Clay didn't know though, was that I had never ice skated before. 

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815 words.

I'm not from England so sorry if the breakfast thingy was wrong. 

Drink water! 

Lav.