Stalker // DNF

26: Layers

George huffs and brings his fingers to his mouth to chew on his nails.

'Don't be mad?' he repeats, throwing his hand into the air pathetically, surprised that disappointment drives the motion. 'Dream why do you... why have you... why?' He sighs loudly, hating the return of his sinking fear.

Dream's down-turned eyes follow his every movement, difficult to see in the dark, yet sad enough to catch.

'I'm sorry.'

George looks up and sees Dream's palm cupping his elbow, his forearm dragged across his body. He stands straight, tension erasing all slack from his posture. His eyebrows crease together, protecting the vulnerability in his eyes.

You know he's like this, George thinks. Why would he have changed?

'Sorry doesn't change anything,' he mutters.

Dream catches George's eye and he doesn't look away. He stares through droopy eyelids and shakes his head loose.

You're not here to be his friend.

'Whatever,' George says, forcing himself to perk up. He pushes together his fear and disappointment together to create the product of false neutrality.

Dream's furrowed eyebrows raise, 'What?'

'Whatever, Dream. I turned my webcam on, knowing there was a risk, so I guess its my fault.'

George steps forward and follows the path again, striding along the pebbles.

'Let's just get this over with,' he mutters under his breath once Dream is out of earshot.

He continues walking and eventually hears the ground crunch under Dream's feet as he follows his footsteps.

'I'm confused. You're... okay?' Dream's voice becomes louder as his longer legs quickly catch up with George.

George presses his eyes tightly together, irritation causing his act to slip. He quickly changes the conversation to keep his mind off Dream's confession.

'So how much longer do we have to walk?' George ignores Dream's question and navigates to the edge of the path, allowing Dream to return to the position by his side.

George feels the painter scan his face before he looks away to glance at where his feet place on the ground. He continues to look back at George as if his eyes could peel away the layers of George's lie.

'Uh,' he clears his throat. 'It's actually just...' He extends his arm to place his hand on George's shoulder to steer him to the left, where a branch of the path begins and leads to a stream running through sparse trees.

'Just down here,' Dream slips his hand down from George's shoulder to his lower back, the many clothes George is wearing creating a barrier between both their skin. He continues to lead George down the path, gentle nudges pointing him in the correct direction.

As they near the stream, all traces of light from the street completely disappear with the blockade of the thickening trees. With only the moonlight to aid his vision, George continues down the treaded path and towards a rotting wooden bridge that raises and leads across the water.

Dream's hand moves to the side to cup George's waist to pull him to the side of the bridge. George swallows forcefully at the feeling of Dream's hand so near his stomach whilst attempting to reassure himself, sending reminders of the many layers of cloth protecting him.

He focuses his attention on his direction, changed by the steering hand. Dream leads them down the bank of the stream, to the side of the bridge. His grip tightens on George's waist as he guides him down the sudden drop, only half a meter in length. He tries to ignore it and is pulled to a stop when he reaches the cusp of the stream, their heads in line with the bottom of the bridge.