october 3rd 1943
it felt as if all the happiness in george's life had just left. all he felt these past years were sadness, guilt, and anger.
he had cried so much, he couldn't even shed a single tear anymore.
spending birthdays, christmases, and other holidays alone was so painful.
no family, and no clay.
it was depressing.
sitting in the cold room was all george could do, staring at the walls or ceiling.
he hadn't been outside in so long, and sometimes could go weeks without a shower.
along with george, the town looked horrible alongside with the people living in it.
there was no peace, at least not in this time.
every sleep he had was a cruel nightmare, every single night.
reason why he had lost sleep, such ugly eye bags underneath the brown globes of his.
"love isn't free, george! forever comes with its limits."
and yet, those words repeat in his mind everyday.
sounding just like clay.
maybe if clay were with the brunette, george would be productive, he would have a reason to get up in the mornings, to take care of himself and his needs.
he has never craved for someone more.
but he wonders, does clay ever feel the way george does?
a knock on the door awoke george from his day dream, his vision blurry.
another knock.
the brunette hesitating got up, stumbling on his feet as he walked over to the front door.
opened it and was greeted with nobody, but a single note placed at the bottom of the floor.
he was curious, yet so tired.
he bended down, grabbed it, closed the door and sat on the ground, ripping open the note.
george didn't even bother to see who it was from, but didn't even have the energy too.
and there, he read the note.
Dear, George Davidson September 30th, 1943
I miss you, Georgie. It's been cold out here, and the weather is changing so fast.
It feels so miserable, everyone hates it here.
Everyday we fight for our lives, and for the ones we care for. But everyday, I keep fighting because I'm doing it for you.
You deserve so much more, and I hope you know that.
You're like a soft angel, i still remember your amazing smile, and your voice.
The way you jump when your exicted. I still remember exactly how we met, and how I still smile like a fool because I was thinking about you.
Maybe it's bad. Sure it is, of course!
But does that mean I care? Georgie, you are the reason I still am putting up with this.
Do you remember the day you confessed to me? All day I had been feeling the worst, but that made it so much brighter. Someone actually loves me?
YOU ARE READING
cold wars // dreamnotfound
Romancetwo boys meet in a park, 1939. everything seems to be normal, and they get along quite well. the only thing is they both feel connected to one other, as if there meant for each other, but it had only been a day. something isn't right. book will con...
