runaway

20 ~ Mallory

song: j's lullaby (darlin' I'd wait for you) by delaney bailey
// THE GREAT GATSBY SPOILERS ??? (Kinda, but it's more of an analysis.)

Dream's POV

I kept my eyes on George as he went to sleep.

I wanted to take a photo of him as he slept. But not in the weird creepy way. I just wanted to capture his peaceful expression and see it all the time. I wanted it so engrained into my memory that it will not go away even if a completely different person were to be laid in front of me right now.

When I started to think about it, I don't know why I was so worried to tell my family about him. They know I'm into guys, yet I never brought one home. I always brought girls home and none of them ever stayed for more than two thanksgiving's, so if bringing George marks as the first Thanksgiving, how much will he be willing to spend with me?

I reach up and brush a curl of his hair behind him ear, being able to see his face a bit more. There was a faded bruise on his left cheekbones where my hand laid. The bruise faded to something very faint that I didn't even know it was there. He never told me.

I mesmerized his features. I mesmerized the scarring he had, the bone structure, everything.

New York was dark. It rained the entire week I was there and everything was beautiful, but it started to get lonesome. For the city that never slept, it all felt like something was missing. I thought it was just company, so I went to a club.

And I met Mallory.

—

The loud music boomed through the oversized speakers and cheering seemed to be the most overstimulating thing of all of New York. I always knew alcohol could stop (or at least calm down the environment) enough of the rowdiness to have me have a good night, so I decided to have my first drink since high school graduation.

George hasn't gotten in intact for over three days. No call, no message, not even an answer.

I wasn't angry. I knew he was busy. I just needed to do something fun instead of spending an insane amount of money doing touristy things in a city that gets too much tourists that the money starts to rise within every decade.

"Hey, you here alone?" I look to my left and see a girl next to me, two shots of a beverage in her hands.

She had on a short black dress that complimented her curves perfectly. Her red hair dropped down messily to her shoulder, where a tattoo of a Gatsby quote was written with the eyes of T.J Eckleburg.

"Uh— Yeah." She hands me one of the shots before downing it quickly.

"You're not from around here, are you?" I down the drink, the taste burning the back of my throat.

"Nope."

"Where you from?"

"North Carolina." I place the glass on the table nearest to me, going back to the much easier beer I had in my hand.

"Here for business? Travel?" I nod before looking back at her. I knew from the look of her eyes that she wasn't just planning to talk to a random guy in the bar. She wanted me, and that made me sick. Not because she wasn't sexually attractive, no, she was and she knew she was. It was just the idea that George looked at me the same way and I only want him. I don't want her, or anyone for that matter. Just George. I really need him right now.

"Travel." I swallow the lump in my throat, "only until next week."

"Oh?" She smirks, "Do you want to get some fresh air? Come with me for my smoke break?" She held up her purse before turning around and exiting the side door that lead to an alleyway.