you led my heart {dreamnotfound}

nineteen.

Well idk here's chapter nineteen I guess LMFAO
What will this consist of?
I have no fucking idea actually.
Uhm, I guess I could add POVs of everyone??
Yeah I'll do that.
Anyways enough rambling.

So without further adieu...
I present to you,
Depression.

George couldn't move. Each time their body shifted even a little, sick rose in their throat and their head spun. There was a thin sheet over them. It felt as if they were in the middle of a fire. They opened their eyes. Everything twisted and turned, beige and blurred. They were in a room. The light hurt their eyes. They couldn't see Clay. They twisted their head around cautiously, looking. They tasted vomit in their mouth. They swallowed it. Their throat was thick. Rasping. Useless.

The brunette closed their eyes again. Tried breathing deeply. They mentally checked down their body, not sure as to why. Their arms where there, legs, feet. They wriggled their fingers. All working. They felt down over their stomach. They had a T-shirt on; collar seeming to choke them. Their legs where bare, jeans gone. They felt the sheet beside them, then rested their hand atop their thigh. Their skin went hot and sticky almost immediately.

"George? Are you awake?"

George swung his head around. Tried to find the voice. His eyes still weren't seeing clearly. The voice was behind him, he could hear that. He tried pushing himself away from the bed, tried to get away from the voice, but his arms were too weak. They shook, and then collapsed him into the sheets. The blood was pumping through him. He could almost start to feel his body flow and wake up. He tried his voice, managed a whimper. His mouth was up against the pillowcase. He heard the voice somewhere, taking a step.

"Hey, it's just me.." The voice whispered, "It's just Clay."
He flinched at the voice. Where was the blonde? How close? He opened his eyes a little. It didn't hurt too much. Next to the bed, a new pair of grey joggers was neatly folded on a wooden chair.

George could here Clay taking steps, coming closer. They tried curling up, tried getting away. Why? They weren't sure. It was all so hazy. Everything was so heavy. So slow. But their brain was working and their heart was racing.

"George.."
A hand reached out, earning a slight flinch before settling at the touch.
"It's just me, alright? You were having a nightmare.. And you might still feel weird from the meds, okay?"
They just nodded, their tongue much too heavy to be able to speak.

"Do you want some water?"
The blonde hesitantly asked. They gripped the sheets. Forcing their eyes to look up. They didn't stop until they reached the other's face. Their breathe faltered for a second then. They didn't know why but for a moment, just a moment, they had expected the man to be someone else. A figment of their imagination.

Clay's face was blank. Those green eyes seemed cold. His lips thin. They pulled the sheet up as far as they could, leaving only their eyes uncovered, watching their boyfriend. The rest of them was stiff. Frozen. The blonde stood there, waiting for them to speak, waiting for the questions. When they didn't come, he answered anyways.

"We got home a few hours ago,"
He said.
"The hospital put you on some more meds to help. You feel sick because of the effects of the drugs. You'll feel weird for awhile... shallow breathing, vertigo, nausea, hallucinations..."
His face spun while he spoke. George shut their eyes. There were tiny stars behind their eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars. They could hear Clay shuffling toward them. Getting closer. They tried their voice.