Is This True Love? (DNF)

Chapter 75: Reassurance

Only 3 more chapters before Cupid begins to be uploaded. It is ready to go with a beautiful cover designed by ItsALolbitShow.
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George POV.

I didn’t make eye contact, going back to my old reliable strategy of keeping my head down. He attempted to keep making conversation yet it was clear that I wasn’t in any mood to respond to him. “Would you like something to eat?” He offered. I just shook my head, wanting to be anywhere but here.

Eventually Clay sighed. “Y’know, I’m trying to be nice.” He hummed, and I finally looked up at him. “I am trying to treat you to something. I know how much you love picnics…” He stated. The blond didn’t look directly at me, instead just staring forward as though he was reminiscing it.

“Every sunny day you’d ask your mother if you two could go for a picnic. You’d make sandwiches and fill a basket with the sandwiches, fruit, whatever else you’d find around the house. Then you’d go wherever you wanted and stay for an hour eating and chatting. It was always so cute.”

I didn’t say anything, just watching the way he grinned as he reminisced. “So I decided, this would be a good experience, an indoor picnic. I’ve always wanted to be able to have a picnic with you. Unfortunately though, I won’t be able to take you outside for a while, so it will have to be indoors.”

“Clay-” I began, seeing the way that he perked up when I said his name. “I don’t…” I thought over what I wanted to say, not wanting to hurt the feelings of the man who had locked me in his bedroom. “I haven’t had a picnic in years. I’ve outgrown it. The last time I went on a picnic was when I was about ten.”

He seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t aware that I had not gone on a picnic once in the last decade, at least not one that I was able to remember off the top of my head. I just fidgeted with the blankets, refusing to look up at him as the blond stayed silent.

“...but… you loved picnics.” Was all that he said, sounding almost broken with his sentence. It felt as though he had put up an idea that I was someone who liked picnics. Someone who enjoyed these simple kinds of meals when in reality I didn’t.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t one he deserved since I didn’t owe an apology, just an act of politeness.

He still continued to pout, despite the apology that I had given him. Acting as though I had personally hurt him for not liking picnics. The blond even looked as though he was going to cry pathetically. I didn’t say anything as I continued to just look down at the food. Part of me considered grabbing his food just to end the awkward tension.

“Can you just try and enjoy it?” He asked, sounding agitated. I looked back up at him, still not saying anything as he tilted his head. I didn’t really want to, but I managed to pick up the closest bag of food that was unopened and ripped open the packet, not caring to see what it was as I slowly began eating.

I managed to keep myself calm, wondering what I had in my life… well before I was even born I had obviously done something to end up being raised on a show… to deserve the treatment that I was facing. “Clay-” I began, wanting to say something, wanting to say many things truthfully, but being unable to.

“Yes George?” He seemed excited, even though I was clearly unsure and anxious. The smile was strangely shocking, and the way he clenched his hands made it seem like he wanted to grab at me and hold me.

“I’m sorry but I think if you wanted a picnic it would be much better to go outside.” Watching the way he smiled at me made me want to flinch and move away. It was unsettling, the same smile I had seen from him every other time he smiled, now though it felt worse. All the fear and the lies that were lying beneath his skin all appeared in that smile.

“I already told you George.” He sighed. “We can’t go outside, since if you get spotted people will want to take you away from me… and take you back to the show.”
“I won’t let them.” I tried to promise him. My hands hesitating before going to rest on his in an anxious hold. “Because I love you.”

For a few moments he sat there, looking down at my hand and seemingly lost in a swirling pot of emotions. I figured, or hoped, that perhaps my words had swayed him in one way or another, convincing him that he was just paranoid and that we should go outside, or that he shouldn't kidnap me.

But then his brows furrowed and his gaze grew firm. He pulled his hand away from mine and clenched it to a fist, muttering something to himself with anger and annoyance clear in his tone. 'Stop it' was the first thing he said loud enough for me to hear. 'You're trying to me'. Slowly I pulled my own hand back to me.

"No I'm not." I attempted to reassure him, looking quite sad myself. That was what I was trying to do, in order to get myself outside of the house and potentially somewhere safe. Yet I didn't have to admit that to him. The look that he gave me made it clear that he knew my anterior motive though.

"You want to leave me." He noted. "I've given up everything for you to be here with me and you just want to leave like my sacrifices mean nothing."
"That's not true." I answered. "I love you for the sacrifices you've made, but I'm losing that love for you because you are paranoid. Nothing is going to happen."

"How could you know this? I don't want to lose you." He shuffled slightly closer to me and I managed a smile.
"You won't." I repeated again, feeling like a broken record. "I promise Clay."
He smiled for a second but then it fell away again as he changed his mind.

"No. You are mine and I don't want to give you up. I don't want somebody else to take you." He moved around and grabbed me again, pulling me into a tight hug which I wanted to pull myself out of but I didn't. This was a time when I felt it would be better to just allow him to hold me with no resistance, in order to calm him down.

"Nobody's going to take me." My entire body felt caged and as though I'd never be able to move again under his grasp, as though he'd hold me here forever.
"Are you sure?" He questioned anxiously. "How can you be sure?" His emotions jumped back and forth anxiously, from an angry psychopath to a scared child.

"Be-because I love you Clay." Despite my running wild instincts I leaned back into him, a loving smile on my face, I even went so far as to move a hand to cup over his own hands, a sign of love and care from me.
“You know George.” His voice grew softer. “You are a terrible liar, right?”
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1248 words