Stalker // DNF

21: Obsessed

Dream blinks and raises his eyebrows in surprise, 'Really?'

George's mouth becomes a river, pouring out words without him processing them first. 'I didn't think I'd ever feel remotely comfortable around you, but I guess I'm starting to?'

His eyes are pulled away from Dream's intense stare as he feels the painter's knuckles shift. He glances down, snapping himself out of the enchantment of the others' eyes.

Dream's hand has lifted slightly from the grip of his kneecap and he extends his fingers, they instantly reach George's knee.

George tenses his stomach to prevent a jolt at the gentle touch and his hands clasp together more tightly in his lap.

Dream's index finger presses slightly more firmly onto George's skin as he begins circling the knee, tracing invisible patterns tenderly. George feels his leg want to jerk away, yet he holds it securely in place. The nerves which Dream touch feel ignited, the flames spreading like a wildfire as the trail of Dream's finger extends to the outline of his kneecap.

'Why does Clay scare you even more?' Dream whispers. George can feel his eyes on his face, yet continues to stare at his lap and at Dream's steady hand.

George knows he is being pushed, he can't properly think with Dream's glare and the stimulus on his knee. Overwhelm is beginning to trickle in, yet his brain isn't processing his emotions as it should.

'It's you, Dream,' George mutters, releasing one hand from his clasp to press the bridge of his nose and squeeze his eyes together. 'You scare me and I don't ever know what to think about you.' His other palm migrates to grip his thigh, hyper-aware that Dream's hand is tracing the same leg inches away.

Dream audibly breathes, the palm which remains on his own kneecap tensing and slowly turning crimson.

'Well, you know what I think about you,' he mumbles, his index finger reaching the cusp of George's knee and making contact with the bottom of his thigh. He continues circling slowly and gently, the motion sending static tingles up George's leg, eventually shooting throughout his entire body.

'Tell me,' George mutters, his lungs fighting for breath and consequently clouding his head with lightheadedness. The tightening of his chest continues as he catches Dream's finger move up his leg further, unseen swirls being drawn a fingerbreadth from where George's hand lays.

Dream chuckles lightly, 'I saw a hardworking guy across my screen... he was cute, but I didn't like you at first, as you know you were on my ass.' Dream continues his light tracing, but doesn't progress further up George's thigh, instead circling around the barrier of the palm.

'You made me laugh when I didn't want to and I told myself I had to keep watching you in case you found any leads on me,' he hesitates, each word being placed carefully and slowly. 'But I secretly wanted an excuse to watch the pretty boy who filled my soul with warmth.'

George was barely able to listen, barely taking the words in, barely functioning as Dream's finger finally touches George's hand, it's coldness contrasting the heat that was flaming behind George's skin. Dream reestablishes his soft circling, the motion spreading across the back of George's hand, tickling and terrorising him.

'I guess I became obsessed with you,' he murmurs. His finger dips to a crevice at the side, between George's thumb and his hand. George subconsciously tilts his fist upward at the gesture, allowing Dream to trace the corner of his palm.

George's stomach begins to twist as Dream strokes his hand, gently lifting it up further so the artist can hook his fingers around George's palm, holding it mid-air.

Both parties are silent and George stares at the collision of their hands. He feels blood rush to his fingers as he reciprocates the pressure and softly squeezes Dream's tough palm, the cloud in his brain covering and muting the screech of sensibility.

He finally lifts his head up to meet the gaze of Dream, who's eyes hadn't moved the entire time. The green iris' scan his face carefully, as if searching for any expression to read.

Dream pauses for a second further, then opens his mouth to speak. He stops himself quickly as his eyes rip away and dart to look behind George suddenly.

George doesn't have time to look behind his shoulder before he hears the door being pushed open and warm air rushes in the room. The increased volume of the dogs barking echoes into the room, bursting the bubble he'd been sitting in.

George tears his hand away from Dream's and uses the free palm to drag himself backwards to create more distance between the two. He then rotates his body to see the women, who'd let them in, standing by the door and leaning her body weight into the door handle.

'Hi loves, how's Patches?' she asks with a bright smile, oblivious to the atmosphere she'd walked into.

George turns back to look at the cat, still resting in Dream's lap. He'd completely forgotten of her presence, distracted by her owner.

Her eyes had darted open at the disruption in the room and had widened in fear. However, she remains still, her pupils being the only moving part of her body.

Dream clears his throat, bringing his hands to rest on the cat's back.

'She's been great - she even let George stroke her,' he says.

The lady claps her hands together in delight, startling Patches further.

'That's great!' she exclaims. 'I came in here actually because this room is booked for someone else now...' She trails off, looking at Dream and George pointedly.

Dream takes the hint and picks Patches up from his leg gently, placing her back to the ground, before standing up himself.

'Yes of course, we'll get going now,' he glances down at George, who is now pressing himself up to his feet.

Patches is scooped up by the women and placed in one of the cages with surprisingly little battle. Dream follows her out of the room, closely accompanied by George.

They make their way down the corridor and George thanks the lady before walking out onto the street, Dream lingers to discuss another time to visit.

The rush of cold air in the dark sky hits his face, feeling like a jolt of reality and clearing the fog in his head. He stops just outside the door and thinks back to Dream's hand tracing his, the words he'd uttered finally sinking in.

He's obsessed with you. Obsessed. That isn't normal, that is dangerous, he thinks, his mind clinging to any memories that instantly arise to the surface. He ignores the fact that he had reciprocated the shown affection, blaming it on the peacefulness of the room.

George has barely any time to further analyse his actions before Dream walks out of the rescue center, closing the door firmly behind him. He digs his hands into the pockets of his coat after he lets go of the door handle and anxiously brings his eyes to George.

'You alright?'

George nods, disregarding his gut disagreeing with the action.

'You're not going home yet... are you?' Dream asks, puppy eyes seizing George's vision.

And despite George having no reason to stay out with the painter any longer than he had already, and the fact that he knows he'd had little control over his actions so far that night; he shakes his head.