― mcyt one-shots

Chapped Love

An: the chapter names are sending me AH
Anyway, here's a cute chapter! Mixed george/dream pov :)
So uh this is a weird story idea? Idk, i think it would be a better story than a one shot because it's complicated / would need a backstory to make full sense ig? But for now this is like a summary or sumthin. It turned out fine, but could use more fluff and meat to make it a real story!
Also realized i'm not writing a lot of fluff and it's more just abandoned/ potential story ideas at this point. Oh well. Next chapter will be more fluffy and they'll already be together for it! (as on my profile, i stated its gonna be a lost chapter!)
-fluff neutral
tw: blood (this chapter is based on the habit of biting your lip when nervous) mild social anxiety?
song inspo: na (i do write stories to songs tho so if you give me a song i could possibly one shot it-)
-

The ticking of the clock moved half of the speed of George's heart as the teacher combed the room for volunteers. As expected, not a single person raised their hand. He glanced at the paper on his desk. It wasn't bad by any means, in fact he would have loved to share it except the small little problem he didn't do "public speaking."

A nervous habit of his was to bite his lip, feeling the action of scraping away the chapped skin on his lips. It was weird when phrased that way, but it was soothing.

Blood trickled into his mouth from the bottom of his lip that only drove George to panic more until the teacher called on someone else to present. George zoned out thankfully, dabbing his tongue against the inside of his mouth to rid the stream of blood.

He rubbed the outside of his lips together in thought. The cut stopped bleeding, and he was quick to leave as the bell rang.

It was George's freshman year of highschool and he was barely a few weeks into the semester. A problem in middle school resurfaced when he tried to present in his social studies class, nearly leaving him a nervous wreck.

He figured it was some form of social anxiety, but self diagnosing wasn't healthy.

The brunette sighed, and continued on his day.

-

As soon as he arrived at his final class, math, he noticed a single object on his desk. He frowned, sitting down at the table and grabbing it.

It was a small red strawberry chapstick, brand new, and not even opened. A note was taped to it. George paused, glancing around the room for who it might be, nerves bundling once more. No one met his gaze out of the six or so other students, and George returned to the note.

hi george, i noticed you bite your lip a lot. okay, that sounds really really weird, but i found it useful to use chapstick to break the habit. this is so weird oh shit youll be here in a sec
- dream xoxo

George frowned again. Do I have a stalker...? He looked up, startled as the first girl to enter the classroom breezed by his desk.

Oh.

Ohhhh.

The first girl. Whoever left him this was a boy.

That thought sat right with him (surprisingly enough), and he was grateful for this... Chapped lips stalker? Dream, he corrected, although who here went by Dream? What a weird occurrence.

He tapped his pencil against the desk softly, studying the note for its handwriting. The last sentence was a bit sprawled and looked like a bunch of scribbles, but the "xoxo" was as clear as day.

Did someone have a little crush on him?

He chuckled a bit at that one, and a few heads turned his way. He silenced himself with an eye roll, and pulled out a piece of paper to start the day off. Instinctively his teeth inched over to the inside of his lips to rip off another piece of skin, but the chapstick still securely in his hand screamed at him wordlessly.