4 II Growth of a petal

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by _twigleaf_

by _twigleaf_

For the next few weeks, George had seen a lot of the new kid.

For once, George had three classes with him, and saw him all week. He sat in the middle of the room and looked at the board with intent, a smile always slapped across his face, and always managed to look back at George, a smile for a deed George had done weeks ago. What George had noticed about him, was that he had no hearing aid and nobody seemed to know what he was feeling. He used a notebook to ask questions (one time, he used sign language and the entire class laughed when he looked around and realised nobody had understood him) and the teachers found it hard to make him understand, because of all his questions. Mostly, the teachers held him back and tried they're best with explaining. Mostly they gave him a paper to read that explained everything and they called it a day.

George had seem him a lot. He wasn't popular, or anything, but a lot of people seemed to know he was deaf. Sometimes they would even pull pranks on him, causing everyone to laugh in his direction. From George's knowledge, he had no friends and was alone most of the time.

But the short brunette shouldn't care, of course he didn't, and went along his day.

There was something about seeing the boy in the hallways or in class that would send his chocolate eyes glancing his direction. The blonde would always look back at him and wave, that cheery look on his face. George always got to surprised and went along his day like nothing had happened.

But one day, when George was at his locker putting his books away, he felt something burning at his side. Turning his head, he saw the blonde glancing at him, and when they caught each-others eyes, the taller waved just like he always did. The weird thing was that George waved back. Maybe it was because he felt bad. Maybe it was because he had waved and the brunette never waved back. But he did. The blonde looked like he wanted to say something more but instead he grabbed his books and left.

Maybe that was why the next week George spent learning the basic signs on sign language in the library.

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The blonde waved again today. The brunette, yet again, waved back. Just as he had for a week now. But this time was different. George wouldn't let the blonde know what he was doing until he was sure he could uphold a proper conversation. And that's when he sighed; Hello. My name is George.

The blonde was obviously caught of guard, and then signed. You know sign language?

I'm learning. He signed back. George would never forget the grin that grew on the blonde's face as he closed his eyes and faced him. The brunette stared back at him and felt the edges of his lips curve. He, himself, felt so happy to see the other happy. He shook his head, and looked back at the grinning blonde. What was he doing. He was such as idiot.

I'm Clay. The blonde signed back. I don't like that name. I like Dream.

George chuckled. Both names are lovely. I'll call you Dream, if you like.

The blonde nodded, and the two fell into a laugh. A stupid one, laughing about names and what they would like to be called, but yet- It felt nice. Somehow. Dream's laugh was like a wheezing tea kettle, steaming with warm drinks as he expressed his happiness. The brunette would never know why, or how, he could feel such a way. But he decided to just accept it, and leave it at that.

You laugh like a tea kettle. George commented.

Dream paused, before he grinned and signed back, You look like a mushroom. Shorty.

George pretended to be hurt, placing his hand on his heart and pretending to faint. The blonde wheezed as the brunette hit his head on the open locker, and placed his hand to rub the pain away. Are you okay? Dream walked up to him and closed the locker, looking down at him.

Yeah, yeah. Just fine. The brunette looked up, eyes half closed, as the blonde covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

To be fair, it was sort of funny. Hope you're okay though. Dream smiled, and put his hand on the other's head and inspected the brunette's head. George stood there uncomfortably as Dream drew his hands away and signed, It's fine. You're good, to the other.

Thanks.

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nights like these - pigeon pit : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Zx54KmDLPw

- twig