1 am || dreamnotfound

thirty - two

his limbs wouldn't work. his mind was in control. the bathroom door slammed shut behind him and his fingers scrambled for the lock before opening a bathroom drawer.

his heart dropped as he practically watched himself do this.

and just as expected, a razor.

his mindless hands gripped it with taut fingers, and the metal was cool against his skin.

no. no, no, no, no. he was over this. this ended over a year ago.

stop.

his concious self was going into panic-mode. he could feel it.

even if it was a dream, the pain felt so real.

blood dripped down his forearms and down his wrists. at some point, his fingers even turned red with blood.

it's a dream. it's not real. it's a dream.

a fucking nightmare.

his hands didn't stop and his heart beat even faster.

no.

stop this goddamn nightmare.

no.

fuck.

there was banging on the door and muffled screaming. screaming and begging for him to open the door. at first it sounded like his ex, but the voice seemed like george's for a moment.

"clay."

"clay!"

"clay!"

his eyes snapped and immediately, he pushed himself into a sitting position against the headboard.

he couldn't breath. his breaths were coming in too short and fast. george's voice sounded miles away and the hand on his forearm didn't even feel like it was there.

"listen to me. breath with me, okay? focus on my voice, clay. copy me. focus on me only."

his breath hitched again as he copied george.

"in with me, hold for four, and then let it out... good, good. keep doing it babe, i'm right here. it was a dream, you're here." george's voice calmed him down slightly as he gulped for another breath of air.

after a few minutes of silence with only the sound of their breaths, clay had calmed down. the hand running up and down his arms never left, but he couldn't bring his eyes to look because of the scars.

"better?" george asked gently.

clay nodded and george have a small smile, tugging on his wrist as he sat back against the headboard, pulling clay into his lap.

clay buried his nose into the crook of george's neck, taking a breath of his scent. he smelled like wet grass and maybe a tint of coffee.

george ran soothing strokes up and down his back as he gently kissed the blond.

"do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

clay let out a shaky breath. "well, it's nothing much. just a bad dream of me cutting myself."

george stiffened. "you.."

clay lifted his head, staring into those doe eyes. "yeah, i did. not anymore. i stopped over a year ago."

a smile slipped onto george's face. "well i'm proud of you then."

clay smiled back and kissed the tip of the brunet's nose. "i'm sorry."

george frowned. "for what, babe?"

"i... i don't know. i guess just that you wanted me in here with you and i end up having a stupid nightmare," clay mumbled.

george frowned. "shush, don't say that. i rather have you in here with me than somewhere else in the house."

clay hummed happily, burying his face into the crook of the boy's neck again, sighing and letting himself fall asleep again with george's soothing kisses and his hand running up and down his back.

———-

oh how the mood can change in two chapters