Racer 404 || (dnf)

15• Swelling Seas

(Dream POV)

Clouds start to pile in over the house. The midnight rains smell drifting in through the open window, although I don't remember walking to my bedroom or seeing anyone before i fell into a deep slumber, peace settles through me.

Unaware of the time, day or date. I still. My breath getting caught up in another's. I recognise the pattern immediately and looking down only comforts my thoughts. Soft padded locks sprawled out against my chin, over spilling onto the white silk pillow cases.

His lips slightly parted, eyes restless and closed. I reach my chin into the nook of his neck, enjoying this feeling that has bounded up between us. The feeling of the colour bright yellow opening up against a darkened sky.

The smile on my face is sickening as I drown further and further into a pit full of love.

But that love swirls and swirls, the bright pinkish colour caught up in anger as it's claws grab at the happy memories made. Pink fades into red. It drags me down. Pools of balled up fists and tightly shut eyes pull at the happiness in my stomach.

Watching the train pass, the last look, the last touch, the last moment where our eyes get to glance at each other before its destroyed by miles and miles of deep thick seas.

He can't leave. Not now; not ever.

The races have ended here in America as they pause for months on end until the finals being held in the UK.

My mind swallows itself in sorrow as George's figure stirs, he lifts his head up from my arm and reflects the look on my face. Eyebrows dropped, lips pursed and shiny eyes give me all the recollection I need to know that he doesn't want to leave as much as I don't want him to.

We share the feeling between us, no words joined just the sickly love that rips open fresh hearts as the pain of letting go sets in.

He gets up without a word, angry at the world that it's splitting us once again. He grabs clothes from his already packed suitcase and goes into the bathroom.

I wait for the click of the lock to sound out around the void of the empty room but it never does.

Instead, the pounding of water hitting the floor radiates the air. I tear away from the closure of my bed and stand outside the door. Tracing my fingers over the handle, the cold metal settles into my mind.

This wasn't supposed to happen, but it did; and now we have to deal with that.

I have half the mind to call his manger and tell him that George is travelling with me, but that would ruin our secret. Our little love story.

I walk into the steam cloud that the bathroom has made out to be. Stripping my clothes and dropping them on-top of the ones George had thrown earlier.

Pushing open the curtain, the tension is thick in the air, swirling around both of us as I step next to him. Heat pressurises my skin as he stands infront of me, head tilted up to look into my eyes, I watch as the water catches the back of his neck and rolls down his collar bones.

How did we end up this way?

After I fail to meet his drooping look, he turns. His back blocking me off as the water now folds over his bare chest. I reach my arms around his shoulders, pulling us closer together. Our skin mixing in a swirl of love and lust.

He releases his neck and rests it on my shoulder as I drop my head into the crook of his collar bone. The water now falls onto the both of us. Not a single word spoken or look shared, but beyond the strings that tie us together, it's laced with salty tears and long nights. Red, puffy eyes and fading voices.