It Was Enchanting To Meet You. || DNF

27. The truth.

After having a well needed rest, a refreshing drink at a pond they'd luckily stumbled across and a snack which was a juicy, sweet fruit, both boys were back on their feet, reluctantly adventuring through many caves as they refused to stop until they found their way out.

They walked in a peaceful silence, observing their surroundings as the only sounds audible were the semi-loud 'thuds' that their leather shoes made against the hard, concrete floors. Dream took notice that the brunette paid no mind to him at all during the day, and not in a bad way. George just seemed to be in a much happier mood, grateful that the masked man was talking to him again. Dream couldn't quite place what the airspace between them was, but he didn't mind it. He liked it, more than he would like to admit.

The blonde watched as brown eyes aimlessly looked around, seemingly uninterested as the boy let out a sigh, scratching behind of his head as he so desperately wanted to get out of the ravine. Dream would've said something, but he just couldn't bring himself to. Since late last night, after that dream, he miserably failed at getting the short, British boy out of his head. George plagued at Dream's mind, keeping him awake for the rest of the morning hours as he twisted and turned, trying to fall asleep once more, but no matter how hard he tried, the brunette never once left his mind. Infact, the thoughts about the knight became so unbearable, the masked man grew tired of having visions of him, though he couldn't help it. He found his face flushing with a dark blush everytime.

It even came down to where the sea green eyed boy would go back to what took place in his dream, replaying each part that occurred over and over in his head ; the way that George looked up at him through lidded eyelashes and a fucked out expression lacing his features. It drove the blonde absolutely insane as he relished in the thought of his dream becoming a reality, causing him to imagine himself doing more things to the shorter. But, as always, Dream shook those thoughts away as much as he could. Him and George were civilized enemies until war broke loose again. Nothing more.

"Hey, Dream?" A soft, familiar British voice called out, causing the blonde to snap out of his trans like state as he looked at the hunter. "Yeah?" The masked man replied, immediately sensing the way that the brunette seemed to grow hesitant, watching as he tugged at the hem of his armor. With a cocked eyebrow and a confused expression, the emerald colored eyed boy tried again. "What?" He asked. Brown eyes met black ones. George opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He quickly pressed his lips together once more before clearing his throat, figuring that there was no going back now. "How'd you become the most wanted criminal in the kingdom when you're only twenty-two?" George questioned, his voice slightly rushed as he fumbled to get the words out before he began to regret anything he said.

Dream's heartbeat stuttered in his chest, his pace faltering as he barely caught himself from falling face flat onto the ground. He stopped walking, facing the brunette as he had stopped as well. "Why'd you ask?" The blonde questioned after a while, his eyes slightly widened as the way his chest rose and fell slowly sped up, going unnoticed by the duo. "I don't know. You seem.. different, compared to how society back at the kingdom portray you to be anyways," George said, embarrassingly looking away from the taller. "Yeah? How do they portray me to be, George?" Dream dared after a moment of silence, his voice threatening, dripping with venom as his jaw clenched. George gulped, a shiver traveling down his spine as he picked up on the warning laced within the blonde's tone.

"Nothing, forget it," George spoke barely above a whisper, feeling uneasy with the shift of demeanor radiating off the other. "No, George," the blonde stated, taking one, long stride forward, approaching the brunette who subconsciously started taking steps back. "How do they portray me to be?" Dream questioned once more as his voice dangerously dropped, looking down at the brit who was backed up against the wall, cornered. The brunette shuddered as his back pressed against the cold concrete, looking up at the mask which hovered above him, not daring to show that he was intimated, his confidence slowly slipping away into the nonexistent. "I said forget it, Dream," the brit retorted, pressing all the blonde's buttons, curious to see how far the taller would let him push on.