The Tragic and the Pure - DreamNotFound

Chapter 10

George POV

Soft fabric tickled his nose, surrounded by the peaceful scents of vanilla and pine. George shifted on a squishy surface, groaning as every muscle throbbed, a bitter reminder of the torture he'd endured at his father's order. 

The father he thought loved him. Cherished him. Perhaps King Henry did love his son once, before darkness tainted his heart. Be it a star or candle, everything burns out eventually. 

Dark lashes fluttered, raising to blink in the dim room. Swirls of mint fabric flowed from the ceiling, stretching in a spiderweb around him. George's beautiful irises followed the sweep and dip of the silky material down to a polished wood post. 

The foggy dam of sleep broke, memories crashing into his brain with force. Heat scorched his back, crawling across his skin in ghost memory. George knew he'd fallen asleep on the floor, a strong figure wrapped around him. 

The dragon kept his promise of safety.

He never lifted a finger to take advantage of the prince, whose body displayed no fresh wounds. Dream's actions mimicked treasures from their past, when his voice softened to melted honey as thumbs swept George's tears into the dark. Key word being their past.

Thorns curled confused knots around his heart. His "enemy" had laid on the cold floor with him in an attempt to calm him down.

George's fingers curled in velvety sheets. His "enemy" carried him to bed, tucking him in as if he were worried the prince would grow cold.

A faint click broke the silence of the room, drawing his attention to the very person at the center of his inner conflict. 

Liquid gold poured through messy hair, set ablaze by the thin beam of sunlight that escaped the consuming shadows cast by curtains. His eyes shone with emerald cities, framed by thick lashes that curled at the tips. Dream had always carried a handsome air, but it appeared time only added to his beauty. 

The dirty blond held a large basket, having gone completely still when he noticed the prince was awake. He blinked those bright green eyes. Once. Twice.

"You're awake." He spoke quietly, taking a slow step away from the balcony door. Towards wide heterochromatic eyes.

George sat frozen upon the mattress, surveying his every move.

"I brought some stuff for your injuries." Dream drifted closer, setting the basket onto the bed. "I can help you with-" 

"Don't." George's voice cracked. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Slender brows furrowed, head tilting in genuine confusion.

Don't pretend you care. Don't look at me like you're worried I'll break. Don't let me hear that underlying anger... like you want to tear Sam's head off. His chin trembled, white ivory pressing indentions into his lower lip.

"Get out." His sniffed, internally shriveling at the tears he couldn't stop.  "Leave me alone."

"If it's what I said to Sam, I didn't mean it." Sadness clouded Dream's features, watching his ex break down with a heavy gaze. "I only intended to test him, not hurt you."

Stop looking at me like that. Can't you see that's what is hurting me?

"Get out." George curled his knees to his chest, burying his face into the blankets. 

"Alright." Dream's sigh waved a white flag. "This is my room, so no one will bother you. Just... please take care of your injuries."

"Don't." The prince's chest heaved, unable to stop the sob from escaping his lips. He raised his red-rimmed eyes, staring at the face he'd falsely condemned for years. "Just say you hate me."