Stalker // DNF

27: Confusion

George slips his wrist from Dream's grasp, placing it back by his side and turning his body to face the water once again.

Tree branch reflections shine in the glossy water, dancing by each other as the moderate breeze tickles the wood. George stares at the textured water, foaming near the end of the stream in white clouds and hiding shiny rocks.

The view, in combination with the silence, quietens and soaks into his mind until Dream's voice disrupts the peace.

'I am sorry about the webcam,' he whispers.

George sighs, 'I know.'

He turns to look at Dream and sees sad eyes are still clouding his face and staring at his company, unconsensually tearing sympathy out of George's chest.

George lifts his arm back up to land on Dream's thigh lazily in an attempt at comfort. His wrist lands on the leg, his hand flopping into the gap between Dream thighs, near his knees. He allows his palm to dangle down, the bridge sheltering it of the cold air.

You don't owe him any comfort, the muted yelp of sensibility screams at George in his brain. He barely hears the voice, instead his focus is completely directed at the arm he'd flung over Dream subconsciously and now feels tremendously heavy.

Dream sighs quietly and breathes out, 'George...' on a lengthy exhale. 'George, George, George.'

He brings his hand to George's and lifts it up from its droop. Dream holds the others' fist with one hand and runs his other palm up and down George's arm, which lays horizontally over his leg. George can feel the friction through his coat, heat passing into his skin when Dream's hand presses over an area.

'I'm always so confused around you,' Dream mutters, his eyes tracing the movement of his hand by his lap and tilting his neck down. 'You never let me in your head.'

George rotates his chest so he's facing Dream, instead of sitting by his side.

'Confused,' he repeats with a half-laugh. He pulls his hand and arm away from Dream's hold and moves it instead to Dream's chin, cupping it with a finger to lift his face up to look at George.

'I'm never more confused than I am around you,' George confesses, his stomach flipping as Dream's eyes meet his, despite him having caused the action.

Dream smiles and glances down at George's hand holding his face up.

'I don't know why - I feel like I couldn't be much clearer on how I feel about you.'

George strokes his hand across Dream's jaw as it transitions from cupping his chin to reaching the front of his hair. George buries his fingers into the soft strands, coiling a few pieces around his index finger.

'That's not what confuses me,' he murmurs. 'And that's the only thing you're mildly clear about, just to add.'

Dream smirks and uses his newly released hands to shuffle his body across the floor and closer to George. Their thighs bump into one another and Dream leans the weight of his leg onto the other. George feels lightheadedness creep back in with Dream's thigh so close and his hair wrapped around his finger.

'Don't you like that I'm this mysterious guy?' Dream teases.

George thinks for a second, surprising himself by taking Dream's question seriously.

'I don't know,' he responds. 'On one hand - no, I hate it. I need you to tell me more.'

He digs his hand further into Dream's hair, circling his palm so his fingers draw messy patterns into the locks, grateful for the layer of heat the scalp provides to his fingertips.