Stalker // DNF

19: Chaos

George lazily drags a hand up into the air to meet Dream's palm, it's coldness injecting static punctures into his skin. George's fingers cup gently, contrasting to Dream squeezing George's hand firmly to drag him off the bench and onto his feet.

George stumbles at the unexpected force and feels his centre of gravity shift. He feels himself tip forwards before Dream's arm quickly catches George's bicep, pushing him back to a steady stance.

George's eyes shift upwards from the floor as he begins to look up to thankfully smile at Dream. His pupils shift skyward as he scans Dream's body from top to bottom, making him aware of how close he had landed to the artist.

Dream's elbows are bent, not having to extend far to reach George's arm. Their tensed shoulders almost touch and his warm breath tickles George's face, frozen a rulers length away from him. George looks into Dream's iris', catching sight of brown halos circling his pupils, eventually blending into the emerald ocean. He glimpses at the pale furrows drawn across the colours, then instantly looks back down at the floor when Dream meets his gaze.

He glimpses at their feet almost slotting together on the ground and George's hand loosens from Dream's quickly, the feeling of their skin touching and their nearness suddenly unbearable to him.

He takes a stride back and looks upward while clearing his throat.

'After you,' George mutters quietly, his arm opening in the direction of the door.

Dream stalls for a second, widened eyes moving from George to the building as he starts to trudge slowly toward the bright lights emerging from inside.

George shakes his head loose before following his footsteps to the doormat. As soon as Dream pushes the door open a mere inch, George's ears are flooded with barking dogs, metal bowls clinking and classic music attempting to ease the chaos of the noise.

A rush of warm air hits him as he steps onto the wood floors, Dream holding the door open for him and nudging it shut once they are both inside.

George scans the room, thousands of pinned leaflets and posters cluttering the walls. On one side of the room lays a seating area with a couple wooden chair tossed around a coffee table. The other side displays glass cages, piled on top of one another, with no overhead light shining above. George squints and catches sight of a lizard in one of the eye-level cages, resting in tousled leaves and a small pile of stones.

He moves his eyes to the centre of the room, directly in front of the door. A cramped desk with splintering wood is plonked on a circular rug, small pieces of soil embedded in the material. He glances behind the desk at the narrow corridor, one side of it exhibiting lit, empty rooms with huge glass walls. The opposite side reveals to be the source of the majority of the noise, cages of all sizes climbing the wall. George attempts to look down the awkward angle and can only make out a dog standing on the first ground cage, its face buried in a reflective food bowl.

'Hello!' a beaming women emerges from a closed door at the end of the corridor. She is decorated in denim dungarees and a vibrant shirt with bright tasseled earrings dangling over her shoulders. As she skips quickly down the aisle, her broadcasting voice carries over the distracting hubbub, 'How can I help you, my lovely?'

George instinctively steps back and to the side, moving out of her centre of focus for Dream to show himself.

The women arrives at the desk, leaning her weight onto her hands which move to rest on the wood. Her eyes shift to Dream and light up in recognition.

'Clay! You're perfectly on time - Patches is down there,' she spins around and points at one of the glass rooms nestled down the hall. 'She's waiting for you. I'm actually thinking you could try going in alone today, I think she's getting more comfortable now.'

George smiles unknowingly at the unfamiliarity of Dream's name, 'Clay' almost feeling like a mask for the painter. He feels as if he it the only one who truly knows his real name, truthfully knowing it was the other way around until a few minutes ago.

'That'd be great!' Dream respond enthusiastically. He twists his body slightly to angle more in George's direction as he adds, 'Do you think she'll be okay with my friend coming in? He won't try to get near her or anything...'

The women returns her attention to George, her head tilting in thought as she leans into her hip. An earring dangles back and forth at the tilt of her scalp, skimming the strap of her clothes.

'What's your name, my darling?' 

'George.'

'Nice to meet you, George. Tell me, lovely - do you have any experience with animals, especially non-domesticated ones?'

George clears his throat and nears the desk slightly, struggling to hear the conversation over the barking of dogs, bouncing off the glass walls.

'Um, not really. Well - I grew up with cats, but all domesticated. But Dre -' George cuts himself off quickly, correcting himself. 'Clay has talked to me a lot about Patches' mannerisms and stuff, but I'm okay with standing by the door or whatever would make it easier.'

The lady nods along as he speaks, looking to the side in thought when he finishes.

'I'm sure it'll be fine,' she says, turning around and gesturing for George and Dream to follow her. George makes sure Dream walks first, following his shadow and feeling out of place. They shuffle behind the desk and through the corridor. George begins to more clearly sees the dogs and cats standing, lying and sitting in their cages, staring at the imposters. His shoulders almost touch the cages and glass panels in the cramped space, mild claustrophobia discomforting him.

'Just, don't get too close, George,' she continues, pacing quickly through the hall. 'She's a lovely cat, just not the biggest fan of strangers.' 

She stops abruptly, causing a chain reaction of Dream skidding to a stop and George's chest nearly bumping into Dream's back at the unexpectedness. 

'She's just hiding in the corner in there,' the women squeezes her back against the cage, allowing room for Dream to slide into the glassed area, George following seconds later. 'Just give me a shout for anything at all.' She shuts the door carefully when George emerges himself fully in the room, and skitters back down the corridor.

The closed door proves to be a decent blockade of the noise, the barking sounds muffled behind the glass panes. George scans the room bare of furniture, minus a fluffy grey rug coating the floor and a cluster of old newspapers enveloping each other in a corner.

Dream strolls silently and cautiously to the opposite corner, his broad back blocking George's view in the small room. He crouches down once he reaches where the two walls collide, balancing with his hands propped on his knees.

'Hey, hey,' Dream whispers, George barely catching the breathy words in the quiet room.

Dream's hands move behind him as he gently lowers himself to a cross-legged position on the ground. He shifts on the floor, unblocking George's view and revealing the cat he'd seen in clear view on the wall a few nights ago, now made of fur instead of paint.

Dream looks up at George, his eyes bright and crinkled by his wide smile, 'she's checking you out.'

George observes Patches' swishing tail and wide glare at George, keeping him glued to his position and not daring to get closer or move a muscle.

'She's not the only one to have done that tonight.'