Imprisonment (DNF)

Contemplation

A/N pls remember to vote if you enjoy :)

George walked along the sand, his jeans rolled halfway up his calves. The sand crumbled between his toes under the soft moonlit sky. His shirt was gone. He wasn't sure where, but he'd lost it somewhere along the walk. And he wasn't sure where he was going, or why, but he knew he had to keep walking, at least until something happened. Though he wasn't sure what that something was supposed to be either.

A hand intertwined with his fingers. He looked down at the muscular skin, that left goosebumps on his, then back up to the man it belonged to.

Wavy dirty blonde hair dangled in his green eyes as they walked. The colour seemed more vibrant in the dull lighting.

George stopped and faced the tall man.

Their silhouettes lingered next to the horizon as the waves crashed against the shore. The wind whistled, messing up their hair. Their hands clung onto each other as their eyes met a loving gaze. The tall man moved his head inches away from Georges. Slow hot breaths fanned against his lips as the Brit softly moved the stray hairs out of the mans eyes. He smiled.

"Thanks Georgie." The deep whisper sent tingles down his spine.
And with that, the man closed the gap, allowing their lips to connect passionately. They embraced each other tightly. George melted into the touch. Butterflies filled his stomach, as the mans green shirt rubbed up against his bare skin. George pulled away, breathing heavily, and staring at the beautiful tall man that stood before him.

"I need to wake up don't I..." the brunette exhaled, disappointedly.

He already knew the answer.

The man sighed.

"Yeah... but let's just enjoy this before I'm gone."

His hands snaked around Georges waist leaving a warm sensation along his cool skin. He lifted George up into another kiss.
The Brit wrapped his legs around the mans hips, and leaned into the soft lips.

God it was perfect.

Too perfect.

—

He woke up in a cold sweat, tears streaming down his face, despite the lack of Emotion.

He felt empty. Like there was a hole inside of him. In the shape of that beautiful green eyed tall man.

Dream.

It felt like an addiction.
But those dreams... they soothed the cravings ever so slightly.

George decided he wanted to give Dream one last visit - one last proper visit - to say goodbye before he kills him.

I think that would give me some closure.

—

"Thanks again for letting me visit, Sam. I really needed this."

Sam smiled at Georges words.
"Just give me a moment. I'll see quackity out then I'll bring you in."

He disappeared down the long hall, and George waited.

He bit the inside of his cheek, he tapped his foot anxiously, he picked at his nails. Nothing settled his discomfort.

Maybe it was just that fact that he was going to visit a man right before he kills him. Or maybe it was because that man was both the love of his life, and the person he hated most of all. He couldn't be sure what unsettled him the most.

Just all of it did.

Footsteps echoed through the prison. Two voices spoke to each other angrily, almost in a whisper. George listened in.

"George is here, you idiot! I can't let him in now."
The Brit was intrigued, though he couldn't quite make out what the other guy responded with.
"Well you've made my job real hard now." A response came from the first man.

The voices came to a sudden stop and Sam and quackity emerged from the corner, wide smiles quite obviously formed on both of their faces.
Quackity eyed George suspiciously then gave him an unfriendly smile.
"Hi George? Here to see your boyfriend?" He mused.

George was unsettled by those words. The tone felt condescending. Like bad intentions coated the otherwise genuine sincerity. He watched as quackity left the prison.

"Uh- H- he didn't get his stuff?... from the locker...?" George stuttered. He felt uncomfortable. Almost unsafe.

Sams face turned red and he began to ramble.
"O-oh- Ye-yeah um..."

George stared at the nervous wreck waiting for an explanation.

"H-he'll come back, I-I'm sure." The warden rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with the Brit. He sighed, almost relieved that he had been able to finish that sentence.

George eyed Sam, then quickly disregarded it.

"Well then- can I umm... go in now?"

Awkward silence filled the air as Sam delayed a reaction to the question.

"Oh! Right umm... listen..." Sam began nervously.

Georges breath hitched. He knew he was about to be turned away. But this time he couldn't accept it.

"No." George interrupted abruptly.

Sam stuttered a reply, in aw.
"W-what?"

"I said no." George seemed emotionless and monotone.
"I'm going in there."

Sam half laughed.
"W- well, that's not r- really your decision I-"

God he's so fucking awkward right now. He's never like this.

George interrupted the man once again. He was angry and emotional now.

"Listen. You've turned me away for over a month now. Dream is my friend, and I've seen him ONE TIME in over a decade." George leaned into sams face with a finger held up. His eyes glazed over as they began to water.
"So I am going to go see my friend, because he's my friend." A few stray tears escaped and slowly fell down his cheeks.
"And quackity just saw him..."
His voice shook as he held back the sadness and despair it would otherwise convey.
"AND I LOVE HIM!" Georges speech came to an abrupt end as he realised what he had said. He stepped back, as he held onto his tears.

Sam looked at him in disbelief. He thought for a moment then met the eyes of the broken British man before him. A look of sympathy and heartache came over the warden and he let out a loud sigh.

"Fine."

Silence as Sam began pulling levers.
Georges heart skipped a beat.

"But you're not gonna like what you see."

—

The Brit exhaled heavily, trying to slow his breathing. His palms coated in a thick layer of sweat. He wasn't sure if it was because he was nervous or he was standing centimetres away from a wall of draining lava.

God it was hot.

His fingers moved to pick at his nails. He felt sick. He closed his eyes.

Come on George, you can do this.