Take Your Time

3. Unwanted messages

George anxiously bites his lips and stares down, the view of the city calms him. The people that are down there all seem to be in their own little world, not even noticing me up here sitting on the edge of the rooftop.

Although there aren't many cars on the road, the sound of traffic still fills his ears.

I really believed moving to a different country would give me a new start.

He can feel his chest tighten, his hands shaking as a tear rolls down his cheek.

The beautiful sky is filled with colors, the sun is slowly but surely going down. He blankly stares at his phone screen, reading the message over and over again.

'Did you really think that you could loose me this easily?'

He receives another message that makes his blood run cold and his face turn pale.

'See you soon'

He chokes on his sobs and tilts his head, looking right up at the sky. "N-No... No no no no no." George whispers, his voice getting louder by the last few 'no's'

With his breaths becoming even quicker and more difficult to take, he flipped his backpack upside down in a hurry. George's grabs his inhaler, nearly dropping it. He brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply for a few seconds.

"Fuck!" he swings his feet back and forth into the air, leaning further over the edge. "Maybe I can't escape"

He wonders what it would be like to just let himself fall. He wouldn't have to deal with all the problems, he wouldn't have to deal with him. It would be peaceful, maybe even better that living another day in this hell.

A vibration from his phone pulls him back to reality. A reality where he acts like everything is fine, where he seems to have everything under control. Although deep down, he knows that isn't true.

With a huff, he unlocks his phone. In a fear of it being him again, he struggles with getting himself to look.

Brown eyes flicker over the screen all while a tiny smile appears on his face. It's a moment of happiness during the sadness.

'Hey it's me, Dream.'

He wipes his tears with his sleeve, making hoodie paws with it. George starts typing, sniffing and taking breaks a few times in between.

'Hi :)'

- - - -

Dream spins around in his chair, anticipating if he should do this.

'Did you get pizza?' his thumb hovered over the send button and eventually, he deletes the message, too simple.

'Pizza? Tonight?'

Nope. Definitely not. It sounds way too demanding and pushy.

He nervously ran his hand through his hair, noticing the tiny drawings made by George. Although it wasn't good, it was clear he tried.

Why is this so goddamn difficult to do?

'Are you still going to order pizza? If so, can I come with you? '

Fuck it.

Clay send the message, not wanting to give it another thought. He flops back into his chair, rubbing his hands over his face.

It's out of his comfort zone.

In a moment of regret, he pinches himself, hoping that it is all an imagination and not real.

- - - - - -

George places his phone next to him, glancing at it every two seconds, waiting for the three dots to disappear and a message to pop up.

He quickly turns to grab the notebook out of his backpack. The sun already seemed to have disappeared but it wasn't completely dark yet.

It was bright enough to see the drawings, and that's what mattered.

The drawings are beautiful, made by a beautiful person. There's so much I still need to know about you, Dream. I need you to talk, I have to gain your trust.

'Are you still going to order pizza? If so, can I come with you? '

George smiles and bends sideways for his phone, accidentally making the notebook slide off his legs and fall. "NO-"

An desperate try to grab it fails, as expected. His head was fuzzy, his vision is blurry and he had to let himself fall backwards on the roof to make sure he wouldn't fall forward. "Shit"

After a few minutes of laying there, his eyes shut all while taking deep breaths, he grabs his phone again. 

'Yes, I'm still going! It's the only pizza place in town so I think you'll know where I'm at. You don't have to come though, I don't want to make you uncomfy'

It took him a while to write. His head is pounding, blue dots dancing in front of his eyes.

George crawls back up, walking to the stairs wobbly. Feeling this way is normal. I just need food, that's all.

- - - - - -

Dream's phone screen lit up the room, showing the message George had send him a few seconds ago. He let go of the pencil and starts typing.

'I think I will stay at home then'

The feeling of nervousness never left his body. Dream stares at his phone, well, the message he wants to send.

Instead, he doesn't answer at all. He leaves George on read.

- - - -

George sits down. There aren't many people in the restaurant, which isn't that weird, considering the fact that it's almost 11 pm.

His order has been made, he only needs to wait for them to serve the food.

He keeps his eyes low, in his hands the, now somewhat destroyed, notebook.

His eyes shoot back to his phone that is placed on the table.

It's another message.
'I'm almost there, baby'

It's 'him' again.
George swallows nervously and bounces his leg up and down. He can hear the words being said in his head. George can hear him say it.

A tall guy walks in, catching his attention right away. His dirty blonde hair, freckles and pure green eyes made him stood out from everyone else.

George stands up, slipping the notebook in his backpack. His fluffy brown hair bounced along with his movements. With a heart warming smile he looks at Dream. His big brown eyes twinkling as he spins around to face him.

"You-" George's chuckles softened as he walks closer to Dream "You actually came!"

Dream nods and looks around him, noticing the other customers staring at them, since they are standing in the middle of the restaurant. The burning sensation creeps up his chest again, all the way to his throat. He's feels vulnerable, holding back tears of uneasiness.

"Hey, don't-" George whispers and gently places his hand on the boys cheek, bringing his gaze back to his eyes. "Don't look at them"

Dream flinches and froze up, slightly starting to get flustered. The tension between the two doesn't make the situation any better.

"Sorry" The brunet pulls his hand away and points at the table, "Let's sit down"

Minutes pass in the silence,
And George keeps his eyes focused on Dream, who's sitting in front of him.

It's really not working out for him. He's nervously tapping his finger on the table, constantly scanning his surroundings as if the eyes of the others are burning through him.

Dream seems anxious.

"Do you want to go somewhere else? "