Philophobia || Dreamnotfound

15

George's POV

George's hand felt empty now, without Clay's.

The week after the event in the woods passed slowly, painfully so. George wanted to spend more time with Clay, but the prince was overloaded with meetings. So much so, that whenever he had free time, he was sleeping, passed out from exhaustion.

And George let him sleep. If anything, he needed time to think about why he was doing what he was doing, why he was acting how he was acting.

When George grabbed Clay's hand on the day in the woods, he hadn't been thinking. George's hand seemed to slide into Clay's hand without him thinking twice. George wished he could say that he regretted it, that he was forced to hold the prince's hand, but he couldn't.

Back at his home, hand holding was an intimate gesture. So George didn't know why he grabbed Clay's hand, an action that wasn't thought about. It was regretted very briefly, but that went away when Clay didn't make a move to split their hands.

Clay had looked so upset once George stopped his hunting. George couldn't bear to see him like that, downcast and dejected and... rejected. So when George's hand fit into Clay's like a missing puzzle piece, he didn't pull it away.

Their hands were practically meant for each other, Clay's slightly larger ones enveloped George's with caution and care. Such openness as they shared warmth, shared a connection. A connection that could only be described as...

George didn't know the right word, but he knew this feeling of emptiness as his lone hand grasped at nothing. He knew this feeling of hatred for himself. George couldn't help but feel hate for what he was doing.

George knew how Clay felt, how the prince seemed to understand George like no one else ever had. George hated how he only fueled Clay's emotions by taking his hand, but squeezing it. He hadn't meant to, but when Clay squeezed back... his heart welled with happiness and longing, but most of all fear. That same damn fear that wouldn't leave him alone.

So, for the first time in over a month, George decided to push away his fear and try, actually try. To win the tournament, so if, no, when George won, the two could have a chance at figuring out what was happening.

George never knew what he wanted, but he knew he wanted Clay.

So, when George stood among the other royals a week later, he looked at Clay and grinned. He grinned in excitement and hope. And when Clay grinned back, if not cautiously, George's heart raced at the chance, at the possibility of what they could be, what they could have.

Wilbur was going over the same rules and whatnot, but George didn't bother to listen. He just looked at Clay, who was clearly confused, but smiling back nonetheless.

George hated himself for doing that to Clay, for making him confused, but he knew that he was going to try now and that was what mattered. So he shoved the fear in a trunk in the back of his head and locked it, hopefully staying away for good.

Wilbur's voice suddenly became clear as George realized that he should actually focus, "Today you will be sent into town, with a guard of course. Your goal is to follow clues around town and eventually end up back here with a certain amount of tokens that you will have picked up. The purpose of this event is so that you can get to know the people of the Southern Mainland Populace and interact with them.

"Should you win, your position as king or queen will be dealing with the people, so that is why this event is included..."

Wilbur rambled on about rules and so on and so forth. George thought that this was an interesting event, if not a fun one. He could go into town and see more of the city, more of the people. George had only seen it at night, so he could only imagine how it appeared at day.