It Was Enchanting To Meet You. || DNF

10. Alone with the voices.

Hours and more hours passed by as the voice of the boy's dead sister kept calling his name.

Dream had left a while ago, claiming that he was bored and he had nothing better to do than continue to look for a way out.

When George offered to go with him, the blonde immediately denied the request, saying that he was still healing and that he was fully healed, so it would be better for him to go alone while the other rested.

While the brunette thought that the green eyed boy now saw him as a crazy, mad man, after the previous event, which made the brit sad in many ways, he reluctantly agreed, not in the mood to argue about anything.

So, there he was ; alone in the cave where his loved ones died in, along with the voice of his sister, which lingered in the back of his head.

Currently, the brunette was curled up in a small ball, his legs pressed against his chest as his hands wrapped loosely around his knees.

"George.." his sister whispered for the hundredth time ever since the brit started hearing her.

Amber only called his name, over and over. That was the only thing she said- or atleast the only thing that the brunette heard. When George screamed at the top of his lungs, asking what she wanted, she would always stay silent, sometimes, which were rare, she would just repeat his name.

The brit had formulated a million of theories for why this was happening to him in his head, and the one that bugged him the most was the thought of revenge.

The mocha colored eyed boy couldn't help but think that this was some type of revenge for what happened to them. He couldn't help but think that his family decided to turn against him ; haunt him for leaving them for dead, reminding him that there could've been a thousand different endings to their scenario, a thousand that didn't involve death.

"Just go away! You're not here!" The brunette yelled into the atmosphere, his head cowering as he tried to chase away the thoughts in his brain that wrecked his soul. It felt as if every time he heard the voice, someone pressed a heated metal rod against his chest, not willing to let him go until it leaves a permanent scar.

His eyes were squeezed shut as he pulled at his brown locks, wishing to wake up from this nightmare. But unfortunately, he couldn't. This was reality, no matter how crazy it sounded.

"George.."

The brunette's eyes stung with tears that threatened to flow again as he whispered under his breath, "Please.. what do you want..?"

He lifted up his head, slowly opening his eyes, and as expected, no one was there. No one except for him.

Shakily, the boy stood up, shuddering evidently as he took a deep breath, but this didn't stop his tears from falling. If anything, droplets rolled down his face faster than before.

"Where are you?" He asked, trying to keep his composure.

"George..."

The brit looked to the floor, his hands clenched into tight fists while his teeth became gritted. He was becoming angry, annoyance blooming in his chest, but those emotions could never overcome the sadness in his soul at the moment.

His name was the last thing he's heard someone say in the last two hours and if he was gonna be honest, he was getting sick of it.

He so dearly hoped that the blonde returned from his adventure soon. The shorter couldn't stand being alone with the voice in his head for another second.

George looked up at the sky ; the sun was beginning to set, meaning that the green eyed one should be on his way back, shortly. That sent a strike of hope within him for no apparent reason.

Pure exhaustion laced throughout the brunette's features. His cheeks were tear stained, coated with multiple layers while his entire face was tinted in a baby pink color. The brown eyed boy couldn't count how many times he'd cried that afternoon, he'd lost track. His throat was raspy from all the screaming and yelling, he was sure he lost his voice by now. However, he couldn't bring himself to the pond to sooth his burning windpipe no matter how much effort he put into it. He couldn't find the energy anywhere in his body to do it.

The brunette allowed himself to fall to his knees gently. His feet were rocking back and forth, his entire body ached, his heart stinging in his chest.

He clutched his shirt, unable to get used to the overwhelming feeling that ran throughout his veins. The brunette never felt this way before. Atleast, there wasn't a time that he could remember the dreadful feeling full him up.

"George..."

"Just, shut the fuck up! Leave me alone!" The brit shouted, louder than all the others times he'd done so.

He punched the concrete beneath him out of frustration. "Please just go away! Why now, huh?! You've had so many years to haunt me, what difference does it make in doing it now!?"

The brunette's knuckles bruised, parts of his delicate skin dripped with an all too familiar red liquid, but he couldn't care less right now. He just wanted the voice to go away.

His palm as well got warm with the rose colored substance, considering that his finger nails had dug into them from clenching his hands with so much applied pressure.

"George...?"

The brunette was about to lose it from hearing his name being called again, but what stopped him from losing all sanity was that this time, the voice was different.

Dream.

George snapped his head up to look at the blonde who stood at the entrance of a pathway that led away from the cave.

The brit felt relieved. He felt as if his problems had almost been melted away from existence as he watched the tall figure approach him steadily.

Almost.

"Are you okay?" Dream asked, his tone laced with obvious concern and worry as he knelt down next to where the brunette was.

The brunette, however, couldn't bring himself to answer. As much as he tried, he just couldn't stop crying. The words he wanted to say got caught in his throat.

Unintentionally, George managed to change his position, helplessly leaning against the enemy as he hiccuped, his tears streaming down his face uncontrollably.

This took the blonde by surprise a bit, not knowing what to do as the hunter who was sent to capture him and bring him to the king leaned into his chest, his pale hand pulling on the strings of his green hoodie desperately.

Hesitantly, the masked man sat down, letting George sink further into his touch as he put his arm around him, rubbing soothing circles on his back ; something that his mother used to do whenever the taller was sobbing, just like the brunette currently was.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay." The American whispered sweet nothings into the hunter's ear as he seemed to calm down a bit, twitching ever so often.

When the brunette had completely stopped crying, he didn't move from his place against Dream.

The blonde cocked a curious eyebrow as he fully expected George to get up and off him after regaining his composure. The American leaned over to get a clear appearance of the brit's face.

The green eyed boy's expression softened. A small, sweet, ghosted smile broke out on his lips as he watched the now sleeping boy finally rest after so many hours of torture.

~

Hehehehehe😈😈.