broken

ten

im back from the dead hi! i've been very busy with revision and such so i apologise for not updating as often! im honestly shocked by the amount of support this book has, thank you! 9K reads is unbelievable. i love you guys!

tw- mentions of george's past (abuse) childhood, his father is alcoholic and his mother abusive- read with caution!

( George's Pov )

"George?"

I felt hazy, like a daze overtook me.

"George."

My eyes blinked open carefully, unaware of my surroundings.

"George!"

Mustering out a mumble, I sat up. Fully opening my eyes, I saw them.

The ones who hated me.

"George! Are you even listening? God you're so annoying."

"Mum?"

"Don't fucking call me that George."

You see, I never had a good childhood. My father on one hand was a narcissistic drunk who only ever cared about himself, my mother was no better; an abusive, manipulative person who respected my father as if he were some of God. They were never supportive of anything I did, everything I did was called 'stupid' or 'dumb'.

It all spiralled out of control when I decided to come out to my parents as gay. Why did I ever think they'd understand? They left me alone, out on the streets with no job, money or roof over my head. I was silenced by their actions and left to rot. Rot away like some sort of expired fruit.

"I've been called here because apparently I'm your emergency contact or whatever. You're going to come stay with me for a week until you're fully recovered or something."

I glanced up at her, fully aware of what this meant.

"Your father's waiting in the car. Let's go."

( Dream's pov )

I awoke in a cold sweat, my hair a tangled mess of brown, my face a bright shade of red. Panting nervously, I sat up.

"George?"

Silence.

It clicked in my brain, George wasn't there. George wouldn't be there until I made things right, until things were fixed.

Despite the bad awakening, I felt positive about today. I would go to George and tell him, tell him everything I had bottled in. Every feeling I mustered up I would devout to him, I'd tell him the three words.

'I love you.'

Once I had him in my arms, I'd never let go, I've never needed someone like I've needed George. I love him, so much.

Stumbling out of his bed, I made my way towards the bathroom.

The bathroom.

The place where it all went down, it still felt like a fever dream, I can't believe I reacted that way. I left him there, alone.

Shuddering, I opened the tap and splashed cold water on my face. I felt the miniscule droplets run down the sides of my face, gently staining them whilst cooling my skin at the same time. It felt soothing in a way. I stared up at my reflection, taking in every small feature of my face.

Thoughts came crashing in, why would George ever like me in the first place?

Was I reading the situation wrong? My mind encased in a false reality of despair, it was too good to be true.