Just a little crush

Hot or cold...

Hey, i'm back :) Since this story seems to be going strong at the moment, i'm gonna continue it to the best of my power. (Let's hope i don't mess it up) I've actually got quite some comments, yay. But most of them are about Dreams nike shoes, like c'mon nike shoes are dope.

3rd person POV:

George hadn't left his spot in the bed all day. The headaches were killing him and he either felt like he was in a heatwave or in a snowstorm. One thing was helping though, having Dream take care of him. 

Dream had gathered a haul of supplies for his every need, medication, water, tissues and snacks. On the TV a random youtube video was playing, he wasn't really paying attention. It hurt to blink, it hurt to move, it hurt to be alone. 

It sounded stupid that he couldn't even be alone for ten minutes without feeling lonely. But he'd gotten so used to the fact of having someone near. 

Looking around the room for the remote he switched to the news. After trying to focus on what the screen was illustrating, everything that had happened that day made a lot more sense. There had been a tornado coming, but why wasn't there an alarm?

And how hadn't he thought about the possibilty, well atleast they were okay, and that's what mattered the most. As the TV went on with it's buzzing the rain just seemed to get louder and louder. George reached out and turned off the electronic device, laying down again to listen after the drops of water landing on the window.

It was peaceful like that for a while, just him and a void of calming sounds. Tornadoes didn't scare him that much, it was common anyway so why would he be? The thoughts of the day that had passed sent him into a deep sleep for a few hours.

Adruptly he was awoken to the sound of his bedroom door opening, looking up with his blurry sight trying to see who the silhuette belonged to. After adjusting he could see it was his mom, greeting him with a gentle yet unsure smile.

"How are you feeling?"

She sat down at the edge of the bed, hands placed akwardly between her thighs. 

"I'm fine."

Not wanting her sympathy he always answered the same. She only cared for him when she had no one else to go to anyway. But he still loved her as his mother, pushing her away would only result in hurt. And he had enough of that. He hated her for not standing up for him, but loved her for...well...he didn't know, he just did.

"That boy, what was his name again?"

"Clay."

"Yes, he seemed like a nice kid. Is he your friend?"

You could say that, but it's complicated.

"Yeh."

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, neither said a word as the minutes past. She sighed checking the watch on her wrist, before turning to George again.

"I gotta pick up your father, but i'll check on you again later."

"Step father."

 She pretended to not hear what he'd said, maybe the realization that they would never accept each other was too much. Glancing once behind her before closing the door, her footsteps slowly fainted away. And George was left alone again, in his little cave. Where he should have been safe, had been safe for such a long time. 

He missed that.

Not too bad, could be worse. (573 words)