Missed Chances || Dreamnotfound

4

A week passes, George sees Dream almost daily. Whether it be on the training field, at dinner, or just in the halls. He could say that he's spoken a word to the prince, but that would be a lie.

Memories of his past in the castle return to George daily. Some good, some bad. Either way, George doesn't mind remembering them; he finds that in every scenario he remembers, he's always right.

George is up late one night, strolling through the halls to the kitchen, his stomach is his motivation for getting out of bed. He wasn't sleeping; the storm that his mother had mentioned kept him up.

Lightning dances through the sky, chased by thunderclaps. The rain hasn't started yet, so George listens to the thunder as he walks.

He reaches the kitchen within minutes, greeting the baker who is up every night, baking cookies for Queen Catherine, who gets frequent cravings. The baker wishes him well and leaves to go sleep.

George is alone in the kitchen, munching on a cookie, accompanied only by the grumble of thunder. He takes a second cookie when a voice startles him.

"Midnight craving?"

George's shoulders stiffen at Dream's voice and he turns around. He can hardly see Dream, who stands in the doorway, face hidden by a shadow. The prince wears an iridescent black shirt that's unbuttoned almost to his stomach. Dream takes a sip from a glass, watching quietly.

George, unsure of how Dream is feeling, takes a few cautious steps forward. "What do you want?"

Dream doesn't answer, so George walks closer. He stops in surprise, finding Dream's face covered in deep purple bruises, newly formed. They look painful, but Dream doesn't seem bothered.

Dream smirks and steps forward. He grabs George's wrist and lift it up, taking a bite of George's cookie without breaking eye contact. His knuckles are bruised and swollen. Letting go of George's wrist, Dream lifts an eyebrow, a lock of hair dancing over his bruised eye as he chews. After he swallows, Dream murmurs teasingly, "Delicious."

He backs into the shadow of the doorway once more and leaves George alone, dazed and confused. (And annoyed at Dream's effortless charm.)

~

The next day is filled with wind and rain. They batter against windows, demanding to be let in, but the walls hold strong; Takenshire has gone through this many times before.

George wishes he could stop thinking about the previous night. He wishes he could dismiss it as just another one of those moments that Dream was being a prick. But haunting bruises and analytical eyes keep coming back to George, terrorizing his mind.

He walks around the castle with Karl, looking for something to do. He must be zoned out again, because Karl nudges him in his side.

"George, are you listening?"

George blinks, snapping out of his trance. "Yeah, you were saying how you saw the guy again."

"That was half an hour ago," Karl says, unamused. "What's on your mind?"

George's eyes snap up at an approaching figure. Karl gasps softly and George mutters, "That, that was on my mind."

"The hell did he do to get those?" Karl asks in a hushed tone.

George shrugs, unable to respond because Dream is within hearing distance. Dream has no intention of stopping to talk with them, the plan seems for the three to cross paths wordlessly. George is okay with that. Karl, however, chooses to start a conversation.

"Where did you get those?" Karl asks, voice almost squeaking out of fear. When Dream looks their way, Karl bows, saying quickly, "If you don't mind sharing, Prince Dream."