pretty boy || dreamnotfound

your highness

noon finally rolls around, and george finds himself blissfully soaking up the warmth of the sun. the peaceful atmosphere surrounds him in a blanket of comfort, and it somewhat reminds him of his late teenage years. he had spent most of those days lying in the grass, humming gentle tunes to himself which would float delicately through the air and eventually he'd begin drifting off to sleep. most nights, he'd wake up sunburnt from the many hours he'd been dozing in the sun, along with bumpy lines on his skin where he had been pressed against the grass- though he never seemed to mind as he continued this happy summer routine. a short moment of nostalgia settles upon him as he reminisces his earlier years in this town.

his life is much different now, though.

the prince has been irritatingly demanding over the last few days, forcing him to do meaningless tasks seemingly just for the sake of doing them. cleaning things which were already spotless, tidying rooms which were neat as usual, and running plenty of baths for the prince who never seemed pleased with the temperature of the water; and would get poor george to refill it a dozen times which would only result in endless bickering.

"it's still cold, you idiot!"

"how many more times are you going to make me do this?"

as expected, the two didn't appear to be getting along. george sighs, not wanting to think of the blonde if he could help it.

he watches the soft clouds which float delicately and slowly across the sky as if they had been painted there. george had always loved watching clouds since he was a child, he always admired the way they morph into one another, creating all kinds of different shapes in such little time. he could only describe clouds in one word; beautiful. along with the sky, of course, which seemed to adore them just as much as he does.

george exhales deeply as he mindlessly plucks small daisies and blades of grass from the dirt. his eyes flutter shut to further enjoy the sun rays which shines fondly down onto his flushed, porcelain face. he hears a bee buzzing behind him, and it brings a small smile onto his face. opening one eye, he searches around for it, but it flies away before he gets to observe a working bee. he shrugs, and closes his eye once again and begins daydreaming almost immediately.

his daydreams were always filled with a sense of home, whether he dreams about his childhood; or possible future. on occasion, he'll place himself in a world out of his reality, just like the books in the town's library. he likes to place himself within the pages of a good story, he had grown up reading those fantasy books. each word he reads in these stories creates a new place for him to go when he dreams. he'll place himself inside the shoes of a character, and in a haze, imagine himself as if he were them.

these fantasy worlds also brought george much comfort, it's as if he sits up in the clouds and watches while he ventures out into a new life. some stories were more exciting than others, but they were all more thrilling than the life of his own, so he didn't mind.

the blades of grass tickle his legs, but he ignores it. the hill he sits upon is located a short while away from town, yet he can still hear and see the people who scurry through the market. he watches the couple together, who look to be in a world of their own, and it almost fills george with hope. two young children run through the crowd, loud laughter drifting through the air as they chase one another. george likes this town greatly, as everybody seems so happy on days like these, including himself.

today has been peaceful, the prince has been in a meeting of sorts since this morning, leaving george to finally have some time to himself.

though, even when alone, the presence of dream is still around. he never leaves george's mind. on monday, the long anticipated fight arrived, and the whole town gathered in the square to watch. the prince fought many different kinds of men, yet still won with ease, never even coming close to losing. of course, he bragged about this afterwards to the brunette, telling him he should have believed in him. tuesday was full of those chores george hated, from cleaning the most random things, to polishing every single weapon in the weaponry.