Clay's POV
I remember basking in George's warmth and wanting to live in his candescent aura, I awfully regret not savouring it and falling asleep instead. When he ran his fingers through my hair and held me that dire afternoon, I felt safe, I felt cared about, I felt like the cat I grew up with didn't just die and I felt loved.
I haven't felt any of that in a while. Sure my fans showered me in endless support and love but it wasn't the same love. It's more of an admiration for my content and my online persona.
It's a love for Dream.
I'm not Dream.
God, I'm a fucking horrible person. I know what it is but I'm just choosing not to accept it like not saying it makes it insubstantial. I run my fingers through my hair and crook my head upwards in frustration.
"Hey" his soft words, raspy from just waking up, sang from behind me as I turned my head to face him "I was gonna go to the library if you wanna join me"
"Oh good morning George, I was actually gonna film in a bit but I might join you later" I respond, still infatuated by his voice.
"Are you okay?" He can see right through me, he can see the coldness I'm radiating like it's on display, only he would be able to read me.
If only I could respond with the truth, that I'm not okay and that I'm suffocating in my desperation for you that I made the grave mistake of falling in love with the one person I couldn't have, the one person that likes me for me, the one person that I don't have to hide around and the one person that makes me feel at home. But the thing is, falling in love with you was the easy part; it's admitting to myself that it happened that's excruciatingly cruel.
The only option is to let my love subside and dissipate or push it so far back that one would spend years discovering it again. If any 1 moment in time anchored my soul, it was the moment I fell in love with you. It created a tether to this plane of reality, that I know I can't just 'let go' of.
It means letting go of something that may be truly tangible and favoring something I will never actually hold close.
How can I hang on to something so incomprehensible? How can I keep pouring my love into an abyss? There's something in those mocha eyes that's so beautiful and irresistible, so safe and warm.
God, I'm such a fucking shitty person. How could I even have these thoughts when I'm supposed to help you move on from the true love of your life?
"Clay?" his voice pulled me from my trance
"Oh yeah I'm good, just tired"
"Okay, I'll be in the library then, there's some tea in the kitchen if you like" he knew my words were anything but true but he chose not to push.
-
After I filmed a video with Tommy and Quackity I made my way over to the library bearing 2 cups of tea, a blanket that I stole from the couch, and some sushi I had ordered, his favorite of course.
"Ohhh Georgeee guess what I-" I began to call out until soft sniffles and choked sobs interrupted.
I noticed George curled in a ball on the floor and an open book lazily strewn beside him.
I hastily put my things on the nearest table and rushed over to him, immediately engulfing him in a hug.
"I fucking miss him so goddamn much. Everything I do just twists the knife deeper into my gut" He trilled out, still uncontrollably sobbing.
He buries his head in my chest as I stay silent, allowing him to elaborate.
"And I feel so- so fucking guilty. I'm such a fucking shitty person." he breathed into my chest.
"George- Oliver's death is not on you, it's not your fault you did everything right, I promise" I assure him, burrowing my face into his hair.
"That's not...that's not what I feel guilty for."
I decide not to question as he clearly was already hesitant to speak and let him slowly doze off in my arms.
When silence fills the room and he's no longer sniffling I look down at him, his eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted. A sight for sore eyes, beauty unworthy for my infatuation.
I notice something slowly slip from his grasp, I watch as it rolls down his palm, off his fingers, and falling to my lap.
A pill bottle.
My eyes widen and everything hits me at once. I pull away from George and hold him by the shoulders,
"GEORGE WAKE UP, GEORGE~" I shake him, trying not to be forceful. I can't help the tears that brim my eyes and relentlessly wash down my cheeks.
His eyes snap open and creases form in between his eyebrows in confusion.
"What? Did something happen??" His voice was panicked yet still slow
"DID YOU TAKE ANY" I gesture to the orange cylinder on the floor
"Oh- no I didn't-"
"GEORGE PROMISE ME YOU DIDNT TAKE ANY" I interrupt him with tears still pooling in my eyes.
"Clay, I promise you...I didn't take any. I was going to but~" he hesititates, looking away and looking back to me with glossy eyes
"You saved me."
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him after me || dnf ✓
FanfictionIt's hard to watch the love of your life spiral into darkness, it's even harder when you cant help. After Oliver's death, he watches over his boyfriend George as he gets pulled into self-destructive behaviours of grief and pain until one day he sees...
