like real people do | dreamnotfound

4

4 - not an NPC

~

the man pulled clay inside a mushroom cottage and shut the door behind them, with the man looking through the glass windows to see if there are mobs out. it was now when clay took a moment to appreciate what the boy looked like; he wore a blue shirt over a white sweater, black pants, white clout goggles and a mushroom-like hat rested upon his head. hung around his torso was a brown sash, containing potions and poison he can easily pluck off and throw, or drink. a sword within a scabbard is tucked against his hip, arrows and a bow hanging off of his back.

"are you alright?" the boy asked, his voice was gentle and airy, and it felt comfortable to hear his voice - clay felt like it was raining again after summer, listening to this boy's voice felt like the warmth you feel in your hands whenever you hold a cup of hot cocoa, the blond was lovestruck - to say the least. british accent - clay noted. "check your stats, now." he said sternly. clay nodded wordlessly, flicking his wrist to see that he only had 4 hearts from fall damage and almost nothing in his hunger bar.

"i'm hungry." clay muttered, and the boy before him nodded, visibly going through his hologram screen and handing the blond some bread, "thank you." he smiled, taking a bite out of the surprisingly soft and fluffy bread, it felt like it has been so long since clay ate anything other than instant noodles, and it felt nice.

"how did you get in here? no one was supposed to get in here." the brit questioned clay frantically, looking through chests and barrels, and pulling out a broken, non working compass - it was, as it looked like, broken, the pointer pointing down south and moving along george's hands, looking at clay, george shoved the compass in his pocket and walked over to a brewing stand.

"well, how did you know i was here?" clay asked, raising his eyebrow at the boy, watching his every movement, eyes trailing over hands which removed his oversized, red and white mushroom witch hat and hastily placing it on a makeshift table made out of a dark oak slab.

"i sensed someone joined but i thought it was..." he trailed off, looking at the blond - he offered his hand, flustering the blond. "i'm george, by the way."

"i'm clay, thank you for saving me there." clay said genuinely, george poured his attention over to the brewing stand and made more potions. the brit tensed, but continued doing whatever he was doing.

"i had to, you would've died permanently, or, there is a chance you will, anyway. another probability is that you'll get stuck in a coma, sort of like death, but your body is alive - dreaming of nothing." george deadpanned, mixing ingredients and things clay can't even name into liquid of different colours and pouring them into bottles, "i know you're from the real world, don't even try to lie to me." george hummed.

"how are you so sure?" clay asked the brit, accepting the pink, instant health potion george gave him. clay eyed the bottle, and the shiny, pink substance within the bottle, swirling it around.

"drink, it's for your wounds." george murmured, clay nodded, taking the cork out of the bottle and pouring the sweet drink down his throat. he felt lighter, and clay watched his wounds and scratches from falling earlier close up magically before his eyes. "and, i know you're not from here because of this." he mumbled, clay felt his breathing stop and his heart get stuck within his throat when george took his pale, long and thin fingers to move strands of his blond hair out of the left side of his face, gently tucking the strands behind his ear. george's fingers trailed over a chip embedded on clay's left temple, watching it glow when touched. "you have a chip." george said, straightforwardly.

it took clay every bit of his strength not to lean onto george's hand, it would've been awkward if he did. "how about you, are you an NPC?" clay asked, and george stopped.

"i guess you could say that." george mumbled, he took some wool from a chest beside some barrels and wooden planks, swiftly sliding it on the crafting table and making a bed. "here, we can't sleep on the same bed." he said, placing the bed beside his, "rest up, and we'll work towards getting you home when you wake up."

"thanks, again." clay said, smiling at the brit and watching the pale boy's cheeks turn pink.

"it's nothing, i haven't had real company in a while, so i guess i'm also thankful you're here." george replied, making clay smile even wider. "we can talk more tomorrow, but, what's important now is you get some rest."

"okay then, good night, george." clay mumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chest and closing his eyes. george stared at the blond and turned back to brewing potions, 'i'll have to go and farm tomorrow.', george thought. he had to distract himself, because there was a stupidly attractive himbo on a bed beside his bed.

george looked out of the window, and saw the night sky, it was so pretty - dark, mysterious, yet comforting. the stars glowed and the moon was staring at him from above. the trees and its leaves laid stagnant, flowing gently in the wind. george felt lonely, for the longest time, and now that somebody was here with him - he doesn't know how to act. he has to sleep soon, and george was tempted to after hearing clay's soft snores, his blond hair flopping against his forehead and slightly parted lips made george's heart do somersaults within his chest, clay looked beautiful underneath the moonlight.

he'll just have to help clay, help him go home. no strings attached, he's just doing this purely to get the blond out of a world he didn't belong in.
-
03/02/21