The Mushroom Prince // DNF

11/Memories

*TW: NSFW, smut (also hi besties)

George woke the following morning with a heavy feeling in his chest. It was a feeling that had settled deep within him; the accumulated weight of all the responsibilities and expectations that were laid out neatly in front of him. There were so many things that needed his attention, so many things he needed to process and think about, but he just couldn't seem to bring himself to do it.

He felt restless, his thoughts racing through his mind as he pulled himself out of bed. He quickly changed, grabbing his journal before pulling open the heavy oak door.

As he turned to walk down the dimly lit hallway, he came face to face with exactly who he was searching for, the only person he really cared to see in his current state of mind.

His face broke into a small smile as he quietly said, "Clay. Good morning."

"Morning, George," Clay answered with a cheerful smile, "how are you?"

George only shrugged, not bothering to hide his true feelings. He was tired; tired of putting on a false front for everyone in his life. But Clay seemed to understand this, giving George a reassuring smile as he reached a hand out to touch George's face, his thumb softly rubbing against the brunette's cheek before falling away.

It was a small but intimate gesture, one that George had grown to appreciate and even crave at times. He loved the warmth that was left behind every time Clay's skin made contact with his own, the way even the smallest amount of contact could make his heart race.

George sighed contentedly; he wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them, to press his lips to Clay's for even just a moment. But he couldn't risk it, not within the castle walls.

"Do you want to go out to the clearing? I need to get out of here for a bit," George asked, figuring the next best thing would be to get some distance from the castle, go to a place where it was just the two of them.

Clay nodded, a smile on his face as he lead George out of the castle.

For the entire walk, George was silent, lost to his own thoughts as he mindlessly made the familiar journey to the clearing. Clay didn't push him, didn't try to ask him what was on his mind or if he was okay. But George appreciated it, he wouldn't even know where to begin.

As soon as they entered the clearing, George found a shady spot beneath a tree and sat down, opening his journal and letting his pencil float across the page. He was so absorbed in his drawing that he didn't even notice Clay searching around in a nearby patch of tall grass, rooting through it in search of something.

George was only pulled from his dazed trance when Clay sat down beside him, leaning back against the tree and opening his hand in front of George's face.

George's eyes lifted to see what Clay was holding; a small red capped mushroom with white spots and a white lily. His face split into a smile as he took the items from Clay's hand, turning to smile at the blonde as he said, "thank you, Clay."

Clay nodded, a smile on his face as he responded, "I heard you say your favorite flower was lilies."

George felt his chest warm, his heart fluttering in appreciation for the blonde who sat beside him. He leaned his head onto Clay's shoulder, his eyes looking down at the small mushroom that was lying in the palm of his hand.

A memory of his first trip to the clearing with Clay surfaced; it felt like a lifetime ago when Clay had called him the mushroom prince, questioning why he was called that by the townspeople. George recalled getting defense and annoyed at the blonde, not wanting to open up to him in those early days.