George is the son to parents that own a multi-million dollar eco friendly car company. Cars have never been George's favorite subject. He knows which are the most expensive on the market because of his father but he's never understood the hype.
Aft...
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"Keep me yours and keep you mine." Keep you mine. NOTD, Shy Martin
The fire was back and the pain was devouring his nervous system. Dream was there, though he laid lifeless a foot away and George felt his throat raw with vocalism. Burning alive all George could think, could feel, could see was Dream. His shoulder was an open wound ripped for everyone to see. They did nothing to help, it was almost as if he wasn't seen. His voice strained and strained and George could do nothing but wilt.
His screams ripped him from the deep form of sleep and woke him within a warm embrace.
"You're alright." A hasty whisper in the warmth of a bed. Of a comfortable room. George panted and cringed from his own mind's perfectly crafted terror. It wasn't real. "Just a nightmare. I'm here."
Repeated into the mussed tendrils of George's hair, Dream whispered easily. This was new for both of them, the nightmares. Sometimes it was Dream and in the dead of night and George would sit at arm's length while Dream caught his breath. They didn't touch then, Dream was far too terrified to touch George and make whatever horror real. The brunette understood and simply spoke to distract. Words and words of nonsense to help settle the past at whatever hour of the morning. He didn't mind.
George was opposite his lover. He needed comfort from the nightmares, he needed to be grounded. Dream knew how to do that easily, holding George close while they waited for the storm to pass. Soft in caress and sweet in kisses, settled. George was grateful.
"This is ridiculous," George muttered into the warm skin of the blond's neck. "It's been two months and we're still..."
A hand played with the hair at George's nape, "I know..." A gentle whisper, "You went through a lot and your mind is still trying to process it."
"Sorry to wake you up."
"It's alright," Dream said, voice heavy with sleep. "You're more important than sleep."
George hadn't been able to say it. Those three words Dream gave with all his being. They were hard for George. Each word felt like a cage but it didn't make them any less true. He felt it. George felt every single meaning behind them and this time he wanted to say it. Here he was safe, here he knew there weren't expectations, here George knew he was loved.
Pulling Dream closer, George pressed his forehead deeper into his chest. Dream hummed and trailed easy hands up and down George's spine. He waited until his breath didn't shake and his hands felt relaxed.
"I love you."
The silence felt so loud. George counted ten miserable seconds before Dream exhaled. Relaxing until malleable within George's hold, Dream melted.
Soft puffs of air escaped the younger man but he remained dumbfounded. Finally, Dream muttered, "I don't deserve you."
George's breath respired over Dream's neck, "I think you do."
