George is the son to parents that own a multi-million dollar eco friendly car company. Cars have never been George's favorite subject. He knows which are the most expensive on the market because of his father but he's never understood the hype.
Aft...
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"I can be the subject of your dreams. Your sickening desire." Bite Troye Sivan
It occurred like it usually did. Out in the fields where Hell Fire started Dream sat chained in his car. Dormant and drained of gas. Shackled to the floor pedals and held back by bolted doors, he sat surrounded by flames. Red and orange and yellow, the hues devoured the oxygen, and Dream was forced to watch it all burn. The sunflowers to his right big as tires, the rickety oak trees to his left, and the tall waist-length grass that slithered like snakes in the wind, it was all screaming silent murder. Crackle and pop.
When this happened the first time Dream panicked which caused the fire started to burn brighter and brighter until the air in his car was seared away. He'd suffocated awake. The second time she showed up. Skin mattered and blackened lifeless in his passenger seat. He'd mentioned this Dream offhandedly to George once and could see the slight mortification in his brown eyes. It reflected his own feelings towards it.
This time Dream accepted it. Green eyes somberly tracked the fire and counted the minutes until the air would run out. The plants hissed and begged for solace, begged for rain. Dream knew it wouldn't come nor could he summon it.
"It wasn't your fault." Her tone was clipped, much like every conversation they had. Flirty and forever damaging. "I don't blame you, Clay."
Dream sighed and refrained from looking at her, "I blame myself, June."
A signature squeak of disapproval escaped her pouty lips. Dream hated to admit he missed her, he'd missed her since the day he lost her. Taken away unmoving and without the act of respiration. Their relationship wasn't beautiful, it wasn't even good, but god did Dream miss the way she understood his fucked up mind. How she knew exactly what mess of thoughts ran rampant like plague, because it was her. That's the thing about their relationship, their minds were one and the same. Intricate and unsettling.
"I'm tired, Clay," her voice harbored tenderness, "I want to rest."
"Are you not already somewhere better?" He dared to look.
Juniper, for the first time, showed no signs of burns. Not even a scratch. Her caramel brown hair laid curled over her pinched and dainty shoulders. Each round was still scattered with the nostalgia of sun-kissed spots. Dream had left hundreds and thousands of kisses over each prominent speckle. She'd feign hate then kiss him silly. Kiss him hard.
This. Seeing her like this should've made him want her again, but it didn't. The perfect curls and the soft sun-kissed skin wasn't what his chest ached for. His mind and heart wanted someone else.
"I'm waiting on you," Juniper smirked. Malicious and familiar, Dream marveled at the expression. "I won't rest until I know your sorry ass is okay."
Dream smiled with grave hesitation, "I'm alright, June."
