runaway

19 ~ Possible

happy birthday, ros.
(you can thank them for getting this chapter out btw)
(new but old thing coming back. I'll basically give song recommendations / songs I'm listening to while writing)

song: sick of losing soulmates by dodie

Dream's POV

"Hi, Jane," George mumbles as we kick off our shoes by the front door.

"Hi, George!" She smiles before looking at me, "Dream. You're early." She observes, smiling at me as well.

"Nice to see you again, Jane." George grabbed a couple of things to eat before coming over and grabbing my hand, motioning towards the hall.

"Tired?" Jane asks, motioning towards George. I nod in response,

"Just woke him up." Jane nods in understanding and giggles as George tries his hardest to pull me towards his room. "Goodnight, Jane."

"Goodnight, boys."

Jane was fairly young, maybe twenty-eight to thirty years old. Her blonde hair was always held back by a rubber band and she always dressed in dresses or skirts.

She's nice.

As we enter George's room, he immediately stacks the snacks on his desk and makes his way towards the unfixed bed. I didn't mind it was unfixed, though. He never usually has time to do that.

"Why the snacks?" I ask. He kept his eyes closed as he breathed slowly, comfortably.

"Why not?" I chuckle, "yeah, right."

After a few moments of silence George groans, reaching his arms out, "what's taking you so long? Can we just sleep?"

"I mean, we could, but that's not fun for my first night back, Georgie." I tease, sitting on the chair that was near his desk, spinning lightly.

"Were you expecting something?" I shrug, realizing that he can't see it.

"I don't know."

"I just got off of a ten-hour work shift and visiting my boyfriend's parents." He smiles, "do I not get the satisfaction of sleeping soundly for the first time in two weeks?"

It wasn't just me. He felt it too. Usually, I would get comfort knowing that if I ever felt alone at night, I always had George merely five miles away from me. When I was in New York, I felt so alone. He wasn't just five miles away anymore. He was far.

"A week and a half, actually," I mutter before ditching my shirt on the floor, slowly climbing my way behind him.

"Shut up." I get myself situated before wrapping my arms around his waist, massaging small circles into his sides. He relaxes, leaning back against my chest.

I plant a soft kiss to my favorite place on his body, that being the place right below his ear. I don't know why I claimed it as my favorite. It's always been.

"I missed you," I whisper in his ear, resting my chin on his shoulder. He hums, moving his hands to go on top of mine.

"M' missed you, too." I pepper more light kisses up his neck, stopping once I reached his cheekbone.

"I love you" I whisper, "so much."

"Is your favorite thing to do is kiss me?"

I pretend to think about it before chuckling, "definitely my top three."

"You do it a lot."

"I guess it's my only way to show affection." George hums again as the room falls silent.

"Why didn't you tell them?" He mutters. I stop my kisses and take a deep breath, hoping I heard wrong.

"What?"

"I'm not upset." He states first, "Drista told me she didn't know we were this."

Another moment of silence. He turns around, shuffling a little to get comfortable in front of me. He reaches his hands to my face, causing me to close my eyes.

The truth was I didn't want them to know. If this didn't work out, I didn't want them to know it was because my boyfriend broke up with me. I had a fear George would get over me if we didn't see each other consistently.

Low confidence, I know. Pathetic, I know.

But it was genuinely a big concern. After we went days without saying words to each other, I started to worry that I'd come back and he wouldn't want it anymore. That's why I came back early.

I was scared.

"If you need to say anything, just say it." He says softly, "it's okay."

I reach up and grab his wrists, holding them with slight pressure, nothing that can hurt him of anything. "I'm going to be honest with you, okay? And if I start crying, you can make fun of me. Okay?"

"Mhm"

I take a deep breath before starting, opening my eyes to see his. They looked so understanding and supportive, something I've always seen when I looked at him.

"I was scared you wouldn't want me anymore." his eyebrows curled together in confusion, but his eyes still were understanding. It was as if he understood the situation perfectly.

"Why?"

"Do you remember when I said I wasn't ready for—" I stop myself and take in another shaky breath.

"Yeah, I remember." George says, running my cheekbone with his thumb.

"I just thought that after I left you'd meet someone else and—" it was hard to admit. "and forget that we even existed."

I felt a small tear trail down my face, but he picks it up with his thumb. His face was something that resembled pity. But it wasn't pity.

"I— I would've let you. I would've let you talk to someone else—" I fail to turn away, "but don't worry about it now."

"You didn't want to tell them because you thought we couldn't do long distance?" He asks, moving his warm hands away from my face to rest behind my neck.

"I didn't tell them because I didn't want them to get used of you only for us to not work out." George kept his eyes bored into mine, a bit of offense written on his face.

"Does that happen a lot?"

"In high school, yeah." I take a deep breath, "I'll tell them before thanksgiving, I promise—"

"If you don't want to, you don't need to." He assures, a smile going onto his face in moments, "plus, can we trust that Drista will keep her mouth silent?"

"No." I grin, "she won't."

George reaches up and press our lips into a soft kiss.

"Don't rush, okay? I'm okay with being a secret."

"I don't want you to be a secret, George." I whisper, my voice becoming more and more broken as time went on. "I want people to know you belong with me. I want to show you to the world, George ."

He goes silent for a moment before smiling widely, "I'm okay with that too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I reach up and brush a bit of hair behind his ear. "I love you, George."

"I love you more."

"Impossible."

His grin turns into a tired smirk, "its possible."