Philophobia || Dreamnotfound

10

George's POV

George didn't want to wake up the next morning, but he forced himself to get out of bed.

He washed up and stared at himself in the mirror. George sighed, beginning to finger-comb through his brown hair. His eyes were tired and blank, he'd been up late last night.

After he said those horrible things to Clay and made the prince leave, Maia visited him. She asked George what was going on, but, like he did with Clay, he pushed her away. He was the one to leave a frustrated Maia in the library, returning to his room with a heart full of shame and regret.

He felt awful for what he said to both Clay and Maia, but Clay more so. George wanted to take back what he said and he decided that he would make it his job to find the prince.

George finished in the bathroom. He went to leave his room, but as soon as he opened the door, an object sat on the ground in front of him. George bent down and picked it up, it was a book.

He turned it in his hand, reading the title aloud, "Romeo and Juliet."

George immediately knew who put it there. He scanned the hall, but there was no one in sight. George gingerly set the book on the table beside his bed, planning to read it later.

He left the room in search of the prince. George walked through several hallways, remembering the way to the prince's room. He stopped in front of the wooden door, hesitating before he knocked on the hard surface.

His fist thudded against the door and he waited for a response, but none came.

"He must be sleeping," George observed to himself.

He decided to knock once more to double check, so he knocked again. The door slid open, the lock not having been secured. The wooden door opened slowly, aided by George's gentle push. He poked his head into the room and found it empty.

George stepped inside, scanning the room for any evidence of Clay's presence. The bed sheets were messy, so Clay had been in his room. He walked around the room cautiously, taking in all he could. There wasn't much to be said about the prince. His room was clean, organized, simple. A few paintings populated the walls and a dresser drawer was left ajar. George approached it curiously.

"Who are you?"

George turned to meet the new, yet strangely familiar voice. His eyes met those of a brown haired guard. Sapnap, George remembered, from the night he went into town. Sapnap clearly didn't recognize him, because his eyes were cold and demanding.

George flushed when he realized his setting, stammering, "I-I'm Prince George."

"And what are you doing in here, Prince George?" the guard asked, his eyes accusing.

"I, uh, I was looking for Clay. I wanted to apologize."

George hadn't thought it possible, but Sapnap's eyes grew colder as he mused, "So you're the prince he was talking about."

George's chest squeezed, "Listen, Sapnap, I need to find Clay, do you know where he is?"

Sapnap sighed before saying, "Clay is... he's probably at the training field, most likely exercising through his problems. It's a habit of his."

"Thanks," George muttered.

He walked past Sapnap, the guard calling from behind him, "Oh and, Prince George? Don't treat him like shit."

George stiffened at Sapnap's tone, dripping with venom. He didn't reply and left for the training field.

~