nails like god | georgebur

far away from me

George's chest still stings from the small tattoo. He rubs his hands together, glancing at his phone next to him every so often. Wilbur was in the kitchen for a short while, but when he returned, George couldn't tell if he ate anything.

Wilbur quickly notices how anxious George looks. "He won't do anything crazy, right?"

"No," George shakes his head, but he doesn't look quite convinced himself. "I don't think so. He wasn't that violent."

"That violent?" Wilbur catches the inflection. "But he was violent?"

"He has anger issues. He's never hit me, not on purpose -- not that many times." George almost sounds annoyed, like the idea his ex-boyfriend was abusive was so absurd it irritated him. Honestly, Wilbur doesn't want to fight George on whether his anger-issued, violent, possessive ex-boyfriend was abusive either.

Wilbur takes a deep breath in. It must've sounded like a sigh on George's burning ears. George made a noise, that of a scoff, and Wilbur frowned. He notes that George gets very defensive very swiftly in high-tense situations.

The taller understands it -- the difficulty of admitting you're wrong or you're hurt. He can't admit when he's wrong, truthfully. It's an odd relationship, when you both can't admit when you're wrong and neither of you want to ask for help.

George drops his shoulders. His voice is small, "It's whatever, Wilbur. It's not your problem, let's move on."

"I care." Wilbur makes sure George knows this. "I care about you."

'How?' George thinks to himself. 'Why?'

George forces his eyes to meet Wilbur's, as they have a few times before. George can't explain why, but Wilbur's brown eyes are like pools. Pools full of safety rings. And he's drowning, he needs one.

George doesn't like being wrong, as we've established, so he won't admit he likes the eye contact. He's supposed to hate it.

Wilbur's staring back. And there they are again, looking at each other. George opens his mouth, "He was abusive, I guess."

George doesn't want to cry. He despises crying in front of people. But he couldn't stop his eyes from welling up as he said that word. Abusive. It seems like such a harsh word for his ex. He wasn't that bad, right? As George debates with himself on that question, tears begin to flow from his eyes.

Wilbur is sitting down again, hand hesitantly and gently traveling to pat awkwardly on George's back. "It's okay, George. You're here now. And I'm here, too."

They are here together.