7 Reasons to Stay DreamNotFound

Day Seven

George POV

Dark gray tumbled overhead, flashes of white crackling ominously over froth tipped waves crashing furiously together. Powerful currents surged beneath vengeful clashes of water lapping greedily at cement piers. 

Wind tugged teasingly at brown hair, luring the hesitating body closer to the edge. Salt tinged his tongue, tears streaking down pale cheeks to disappear into dark ocean depths.

Falling into the same motions as before, George hauled himself onto the railing. Cold metal scraped his knees, burning ice into his gloveless palms. Only this time, no one would stop him. Guilt nipped his spine as he got the strong feeling something was missing. Or, perhaps, someone weren't here.

Then again, that was the point, wasn't it? To keep the one person he cared for in a world where his kindness was a rarity. The world needed more people like him, not less. 

Gazing into the sinister depths below, George let the darkness in his mind cloud over. His lips moved silently, leaning forwards as the world turned upside down. Cold railing turned into rushing air, his stomach twisting into thorn-covered knots. 

Whipping winds stole his tears away, squinting his lashes together. Rapidly approaching dark waves, something warm and heavy pressed against him. George gasped when two arms slipped around his waist, his blurry vision clouded by green fabric. 

The last thing he heard before the final blow was we're in this together.

George gasped for breath, limbs flailing against sweat-soaked sheets. Air constricted in his chest, and he rolled onto his side. Coughing wracked his body in tremors, mocha eyes flying wide in his dark room. 

Scanning the shadows wildly, George sucked desperate breath into his screaming lungs. 

What the hell was that. He threaded his hands through his chocolate brown hair, tugging at the sweaty strands. The nightmare was so vivid, painting his mind in clear images and digging up deep-rooted fears.

Cold chills slithered over George's skin, and he struggled to calm his breathing. I'm awake... it was just a nightmare... I'm awake...

The mental chant did nothing to relax him, and the walls edged closer to him. Taunting him, teasing him in whispers of the same tongue as the salty wind. Caging him in his own fright.

Dream. Memories of a warm body pressing into his chest, green fabric clouding his vision nagged George. His stomach twisted sickeningly. Is he okay?

The brunette's gaze flicked to the door. He knew Dream was sleeping peacefully down the hall, but anxiety gnawed at his thoughts, conjuring an image of a broken, lifeless body floating beneath dark currents. He found himself desperate to see the dirty blond's freckled face, to reassure that panicked voice inside him that Dream was okay. That he was safe. 

Trembling fingers pulled back damp sheets, hurrying through his shrinking room to grip the cold metal of his doorknob. Swinging white painted wood open to a dark hall, George stepped into the black. Brushing his fingertips lightly against the wall, he approached the only door he'd never opened before.

George squinted in the gloom, his eyelashes clumped from tears he'd shed in his sleep, noticing the smile painted inside a perfect circle on the center of the door. The goofy doodle encouraged him to raise a fist, lightly knocking on the door. 

Silence hung heavy on the air, and George chewed his bottom lip. He must be asleep...

His chest tightened, and he really didn't want to return to his room alone. He was too scared to face the demon waiting for him. The brunette's feet froze to the floor, and he slipped a shaking hand over the round, cold doorknob.