rooftops

chapter 39 ~ dreams

• mature language

Georges pov=

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that I didnt shut the window properly when I got back in last night, so im freezing cold.

The second thing I notice is that Wilbur isnt in bed.

Its 9:30 in the morning, I can easily go back to sleep and let him come to me later.

Yet I know I snapped at him, im the one that ran off without letting him speak.

My guiltiness gets the better of me, forcing me up out of bed and off to find Wilbur.

The house is sat in an uncomfortable tension that I wouldnt be able to stand for the rest of the day. So even if I wasnt going to talk to him now, I know id do it later.

Its drizzling outside, the wind still the same from last night. It wouldnt feel like Christmas Eve if it werent raining.

The stairs creak as I head down them, making the house seem creepier than usual.

Hes exactly where id expected him to be, on the living room couch, using the blankets that were always just left laying around.

When I see him I feel a fresh wave of guilty wash over me. The couch is too small for me to sleep on, nevermind Wilbur.

The television has been left on overnight, and is now rolling some old looking show.

I stand in the doorway picking awkwardly at the top of my nails, unsure of how to wake him up. What am I going to say?

But im able to avoid that problem altogether when he rolls slightly to the side, his eyes opening to stare at me.

Im pretty sure its taking him a second to wake up, like his eyes are open but hes not actually awake properly.

"Hey" he mumbles, rubbing the corner of his eyes.

"Hi"

He props himself up properly on his shoulders, looking about the room.

I could bet that hes aching right now, id fell asleep there too many times before.

"Are you alright?" he asks me.

I watch him carefully, unsure if hes serious.

"Yeah, yeah im fine" I shrug.

"George"

"No im honestl-"

"George"

I wasnt planning on telling him the truth, or planning to go back on my word that im 'not going to see him', i'm not sure about what i'm going to do yet.

But Wilbur knows somethings up, Wilbur always knows.

"Its hard to explain" I cave.

He pats the space on the couch beside him, signaling for me to come over. I plonk myself down, still feeling bad.

"Im sorry about last night" I start, trying to keep whatever im going to say short and sweet. "Id been keeping all that in for weeks, and you were just the person closest when I was finally ready to let it all out"

He waves his hand in the air as he rolls his eyes.

"Already forgotten" he says with a small smile, "now whats wrong"

I sigh without meaning to, letting my head loll back. This was hard to phrase, im not sure if it will make sense to him.

"Its not that I dont want to see him" I begin slowly, playing with my fingers as I stare at the ceiling.