The Lucky Switch {Gream/DreamNotFound}

On the Horizon (16)

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Even though the curtains were drawn a bitter cold still lingered in the air. George shivered, pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He clutched the photo strip of him and Clay in his hands. Pain surged through him as he continued staring at it, but it was quickly smothered by the icy numbness George couldn't seem to shake.

It had been over a week since they'd last talked. Since then, he hadn't left his flat. The simple thought of getting out of bed pushed him towards the edge of exhaustion. George longed to hear Clay's voice in his ears again or feel his arms circle around him. Instead, he was met with a heavy silence and another wave of cold.

Layla's words chorused through his mind. She'd told George that she had felt like she was suffocating when her and Matt had been apart, but even that felt like an understatement to him. He felt as if his lungs had collapsed in his chest, making it impossible for him to breath as the walls closed in around him and squeezed his heart.

Suddenly he felt a burst of anger ignite in his stomach. He lashed out at his pillow, sending it flying to the floor. George took a shuddering breath, raking his fingers through his hair harshly. His vision seemed to tilt and everything went blurry as his breathing sped up.

He reached out blindly, desperately feeling around for Clay's hoodie. George relaxed slightly as his hand made contact with the soft fabric, the walls of his room coming back into focus. A pit grew in his stomach as he pressed it up to his nose. The last traces of vanilla were beginning to disappear.

George pressed his lips into a firm line and held the sweatshirt close to him anyway. A pang of regret flowed through him, making him wish he hadn't impulsively deleted all of Clay's voicemails. All he wanted now was to hear his voice.

Clay was like a shadow clinging to his every thought. Everywhere George looked triggered an avalanche of memories to tumble through his mind, leaving him trapped in the rubble with no hope of escape.

His phone was sat on the edge of his nightstand. George's eyes locked on it and he was hit with the overwhelming urge to reach out and call him. He wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea but he was unable to stop himself.

The device was heavy in his hands. Unanswered calls and messages littered his screen from both Layla and Violet. George felt a stab of guilt for ignoring them but he pushed it down, unlocking his phone and scrolling to Clay's contact. His hand shook as he hesitantly pressed the call button and moved to phone up by his ear.

"Hello?" Clay's voice was raspy as he answered the call. Everything was still for a few seconds. "George, are you there?"

George hated how his voice was still capable of giving him butterflies even after a week of silence between them. He swallowed, unsure of what to say.

"George?" Worry seeped into his tone as the quiet persisted.

"I miss you," George's voice shook as he spoke. "I probably shouldn't have called, but I had to."

"No, George I-" Clay took a deep breath, trying to carefully form a sentence. "I wanted to call you everyday. I was just trying to give you time like you said." He paused to clear his throat. "I missed you too."

George's eyes fluttered closed as Clay spoke, the sound making him feel drowsy. He suddenly realized how tired he felt after a week of sleepless nights spent staring up at the ceiling and reliving painful memories.