Missed Chances || Dreamnotfound

9

"I don't want to go to the training field," George says flatly, walking down the hall.

Dream follows like a sulking puppy. He replies harshly, "I'm not going to follow you everywhere."

"You have to," George points out with a laugh. "If you don't, we have to be locked up again, remember?"

Dream scowls. After Karl had explained the rule King Leo and Queen Catherine had set, he left George and Dream to fight out another argument about how George was an idiot and Dream was annoying.

Until the bandit problem is settled, Dream can't be caught in a place without George by his side... which could likely last the entirety of George's stay in Takenshire.

Listen, he isn't exactly pleased with his choice to tattle on Dream. It backfired in the worst possible way George could've imagined.

"George," Dream whines in a tone that George finds very annoying.

"Shut up, Dream," George mutters with a sigh.

"I want to go to the training field," Dream pouts, earning an eye roll from George.

"If we go to the training field, then I get to choose the next place we go," George bargains.

Dream perks up immediately. "Deal."

~

George wants to say that the training field bores him, but it doesn't in the least.

There's every imaginable weapon and every imaginable training exercise to be done. George, of course, doesn't do any practices, perfectly content to stand back and watch the action.

Sweaty soldiers fight in circles. Dream cheers them on, looking back at George, who puts on his best bored expression as possible. He picks at his nails, acting like a snobbish prince. It's clearly irritating Dream, and whenever he looks away, George can't help but grin.

Dream approaches him after the millionth glare sent his way. George doesn't bother looking up, picking at his nails, indifferent as he leans against a wall with shelves of weapons.

"You're being rude," Dream states, annoyed.

George's eyes dart up and he lifts his chin, shrugging. "So?"

Dream's eyes narrow. "I have several choice words for your behavior right now." When George nods for him to continue, brows raised expectantly, Dream hisses, "Brat, snob, asshole... princess."

George stiffens and his jaw clenches. Dream smirks, as if he won. George retorts, "At least I don't have to strut around with swords to prove something." He looks Dream up and down slowly. Dream's fingers whiten around his sword. George smirks and leans forward, tapping Dream's chest. "Moron."

Dream fumes, and George's smirk grows. Dream steps closer, his sword raising to George's throat. Cold metal scrapes sensitive skin, but George is determined to win, so he stays impassive. Dream leans forward, almost growling as he says lowly, "You let your mouth get away with too much, princess. Might want to keep it shut before I cut out your tongue."

George chuckles, leaning closer, he lets his breath reach Dream's lips. His mouth hovers open just a hair away from Dream's mouth as he whispers, "You wish you could have my tongue."

With that, George jabs his knee up into Dream's groin. Dream stumbles back, face red with fury. Hushed laughter runs through soldiers, who had been watching. George leans back against the wood once more, picking at his nails with a smirk.

He can feel Dream's stare of shock on him, but George ignores him. Ha, he wants to gloat, I win.

Instead, he glances at Dream, pretending to be disinterested. He knows how to rile Dream up― how to get under his skin. And, just for show, George angles his chin up, exposing his neck to Dream, practically a taunt for Dream to rip skin open.