It Was Enchanting To Meet You. || DNF

69. Suspicions.

George swerved and weaved through the surprisingly massive amounts of people in the village of Mount Helicon, his heartbeat fastening with each desperate pace he took. But finally, his eyes landed on a taller, well-built figure who was leaning against a small canteen that sold candy bars and balloons.

With a small breath of relief, the brunette quickly approached him, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Wilbur or any other of the hunters weren't following him or in his sight, and when he found that they weren't, he almost felt a bit better. Almost. With a slightly aggressive shake out of mere terror, George tugged on the sea green-eyed boy's forearm, catching him by surprise when he began to drag the taller away and to a more secluded spot. "Woah. Calm down, princess," Dream muttered cooingly, "What's wrong?" Finally, George let go of the once-masked man, and immediately his hand flew up to his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that gathered along the rim of his hairline in a stressed manner.

"They're here, Dream. We have to go, and soon," George barely managed to get out, but when he did, Dream watched him with a confused expression and puzzled frown. "I don't understand. Who's here? I thought that we were...laying low for a bit?" Dream asked, emphasizing the 'laying low.' At the boy's words, George felt a small pit of guilt grow in his stomach because he was right; they were laying low, or were supposed to, at least. But of course, the universe was never on their side and George quickly came to realize that throughout the past few months. "I know, Dream. But I can't do anything about it," George explained quietly, his frustration bubbling right below the thinnest layer of his skin. Sensing the other's nervousness, he nodded slowly, not deciding to press his question on the 'who was here.'

Instead, Dream inhaled sharply, one of his large, calloused hands resting comfortingly above George's. "Okay," Dream muttered, "when are we leaving?" George's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Now, we have to leave now," he concluded, his eyes flickering up to meet concerned, emerald ones. "Okay, but before that, I need you to take a deep breath for me," the taller instructed, resulting in George's forehead creasing out of conflict. "What do you mean?" the brunette questioned. "I'm fine." Dream chuckled softly at the boy's words, amused by his tactics before he was retorting with, "You're not, George. You're shaking." And, Tyre to his words, the knight glanced down, and his hand was in fact trembling in the embrace of the other's. A ghosted sigh pushed past pink, plumped lips. "Fine," the shorter of the two responded, his heartbeat still pounding uncontrollably against his ribcage.

"Here," Dream began, hooking his index finger under the pale boy's chin, angling the latter's gaze up at him so that they made eye contact. "Follow after me, alright?" he said, receiving a slow, mesmerized nod from the shorter. "Inhale," the blonde instructed, drawing in a long breath as he made sure that George did the same, in which he did. "And exhale." Dream let the air rush out through his mouth, and he knew that the brunette did the same as he could feel his warm breath against his tanned, freckled skin.

They repeated these actions for a while until George was no longer as sweaty, his heart rate had returned to normal and he stopped being all jittery.

"That's it," Dream praised, "Good job." The sea green-eyed boy smiled down at the shorter, and George's cheeks were immediately painted by a light, scarlet red colour as he muttered a quiet 'Thank you.' Dream chuckled at this. "It's no problem at all, George," he reassured, rubbing soothing circles against the boy's back before letting his hand fall away.

Though calm, George's nerves were still there, and with a stressful sigh, he scratched behind his neck, glancing behind his shoulder once more. The blonde, noticing the other's behavior once more, asked, "What's wrong?" prompting for an answer. George gnawed at the corner of his bottom lip, debating whether or not he should tell the criminal what was on his mind, but in the end, as always, he caved. "It's Wilbur," George said, and reading the confusion plastered on the blonde's face, he elaborated. "He's the Head Hunter in the Royale Community-- basically something like a Vice King for all the knights and hunters. It's really confusing," he explained, practically seeing the cogs turn in the taller's brain as he slowly considered the words.

"Okay," the green-eyed boy breathed, "and he's here?" he then questioned, receiving a nod from the shorter. "Not only that, but he's here with a small cavalry, and they know that I'm here, now. So, that's why we need to go; we need to leave as soon as possible, because, if we don't, chances are they're gonna come back and try convincing me to go back with them to the palace.

Dream's eyes glimmered as he muttered out, "Okay, let's go back to the house and pack whatever we need. Then, we can get the hell out of here."

_

Wilbur kept his gaze ahead as he listened to George's footsteps become quieter as he walked away, the sun beaming down on him despite the snowing, causing the atmosphere to be one mixed with heat and cold.

When he could no longer hear George anymore, before he was able to say or do anything, Max roughly tugged him back, causing him to face him. "What the hell was that, Wilbur!?" the ravenette yelled with furrowed eyebrows, receiving a few concerned glances from a couple of passers-by. "What was what?" The Head Hunter responded, oblivious to the reason for the taller's sudden outburst. "You let him walk away after all we've been through just to get him back?! Are you serious?!" Max stated in a more quiter tone this time. Though, it wasn't any less angry.

With a shake of the head, Wilbur gently took Max's hand off his own, saying, "I get where you're coming from, Max, but I may or may not have a feeling that George is keeping something from us, and it's not personal." Max's rage melted away into something of the sense of conflict and amusement. "What do you mean?" he questioned, pushing for a further explanation. "What I mean is that I think that he's doing something against the oath he'd taken to Philza. That's why he was so persistent on us leaving him alone," said the Head Hunter, letting the words bounce around in the jet-black haired male.

"That's true. He was acting kind of off ever since we approached him, Max theorized, only causing Wilbur to nod in agreement.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," said the brunette, to which caught the ravenette's complete attention once more. "Yeah? And how are you gonna do that? You quite literally just let him walk away from us," Max stated, a teasing tone laced in his voice. Wilbur rolled his eyes, ignoring the boy's words. "Well, to sum it up, I bugged him. I put one of our human trackers in him while he wasn't paying attention," the British man confessed, his tone softer.

Max's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? I didn't know you could do that," he murmured under his breath, way too fascinated by the fact for Wilbur. The latter laughed quietly, humming in confirmation.

"All we have to do is stay here and hope he doesn't do something that'll get him in trouble. But if he does, we'll be able to catch him in the act."

~

:O