April. May. Juniper. July.

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"Burn, Crash, Romance

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"Burn, Crash, Romance.
I'll take what I can get from you"
Talk fast
5sos

"Looking for you," he hissed. George eyed his left hand and caught the glimmer of a crowbar and suddenly the crashing made sense. "Haven't talked in a good year or so... do you miss me?"

"No," Dream replied. "None of us miss you."

His hum felt deadly as he stepped over broken glass. George's knees wanted to liquify at the sight of his car. He'd left it in the middle of the road right where they'd finished the race. Locked and dormant, Technoblade turned it into his own personal punching bag. The front window lay shattered beneath Technoblade's steel pointed shoes. Words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to bubble over with a crass temper, but Dream gave him specific orders.

"I see," the crowbar dragged through glass shards, and the scratching grated George's molars. "You've just replaced me haven't you?" He tapped George's tire. "This his car?"

"Leave, Techno," Dream's voice was far too calm. "You aren't wanted here anymore."

"Right," he pulled his hands up and dropped the crowbar on George's windshield. It cracked on contact and George shut both eyes in a wince. Technoblade's shoes crunched as he approached and Dream's muscles tensed beneath George's grasp. It was the only tell to Dream's emotions because the rest of him looked calm. As if he was standing in a coffee shop people watching rather than a road confronting an enemy. George knew the real Dream, the one beneath the mask, beneath this leadership, he had fear coursing through his veins. Technoblade's eyes shot from Dream down to George. Dream took a step to discretely close the distance between the two.

"Oh, I see. You fancy this one. Like and fancy, eh? That's why he was chosen." Technoblade stepped closer and took a better look at the brunette. The mask was close enough for George to see the flesh of it. There was no way the skin wasn't stuffed. A real hog. The only part of this man's face George could see was his mouth, full of unrealistically sharpened teeth and two fangs that hung over his bottom lip. Who was this guy, a wannabe vampire? Gremlin? George held his breath when a hand came out to grip his chin. "What's your name?"

George's eyes shot to Dream, he received no reaction other than a head shake.

"Don't look at him, look at me." George glanced back and felt his fingers dig into Dream's sleeves. Techno's grip demanded attention. Several rings encased his fingers and George wondered if they'd leave a mark on his skin. "What's your name?"

"George," he stuttered out.

Technoblade gasped and gave Dream a brow, "he's British."

George sucked in a quick breath, it was a wrong move. Techno whipped back around to look at him eyes looking wild through his mask, he leaned in, "you seem valuable. Very valuable. Like a diamond." He hummed. "How'd you like to come join my clan?"

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