Clay is pulled out his face by the older boy next to him, his hands patting his shoulder. "Clay?" George lightly shakes him. He yawns and turns to the doe-eyed male and pulls him into a hug, relaxing into his touch. He recognizes the flowery shampoo that George always uses. They just stand there for a while.
Should he confess? Yes. But what if George is just sweet overall and doesn't like him back? Would this ruin their friendship forever?
Clay wants to cry. He hasn't ugly cried ever since his parrot died, and that was over two years ago. He nuzzled his way into the crook of George's neck, calming down as he can feel George rub small patterns onto his shoulder. George he could barely reach Clay's head off Clay wants bending down.
"Are you okay, Dream?" George asks. His voice still manages Tj make Clay's heart flutter.
"I.. I don't know." He replies.
"Would you like to talk about it?" George wonders. Clay nods into his neck, one of his hands making their way down to grip on George's shirt— desperate to stay in his arms.
"Okay. What's bothering you?" He murmurs. Clay mumbles into his shirt.
"Dream, I can't hear you if your mouth is covered." George giggles.
"I li-like someone.. but I don't th-think it hey c-could Ever like m-me back.." Clay finally replies after what feels like minutes of silence. George hears the crack in his voice and frowns. He hated to see his cru- best friend feel like that.
"Do I umm.. know who it is?" George's voice falters. He takes a deep breath to regain his happier state and rubs Clay's back while doing so. He would hate to see his best friend like someone other than him, but deep down inside, he knew he would have to respect his decision and be happy for him.
"Yes.." Clay says. George let's out an unnoticeable sigh of emotional pain.
"Oh." George finally replies. He feels his eyes tear up and he wipes his eyes on Clay's shirt, hoping Clay doesn't feel the wet substance through the fabric. "I'm always her if you want to talk about her." George finally says. Warm tears slide their way down his cheeks and eventually onto Clay's shirt.
"George?" Clay whispers, pulling away from the hug as George pulls away at the same time.
"I... I ha-have to go!" George replies, running away his voice wavers.
Clay's eyes widen. He screams for George's name, but George doesn't turn back.
