The Lucky Switch {Gream/DreamNotFound}

When You're Gone (14)

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     A loud ringing cut through the quiet of the dark room like a hot knife through butter. It echoed harshly in George's ears, jolting him awake. He shot upright into a sitting position and cringed as he heard his phone strike against the hard floor.

     George had fallen asleep the night before with the device in his hands, waiting for Clay's call and launched it to the ground when he'd sat up. He fumbled around blindly in the darkness before finding it and answering frantically.

     "Hello?" George's voice was raspy from both disuse and exhaustion. His throat still felt constricted from the previous day. He blinked slowly, his eyes finally adjusting to the dimly lit room.

     "George!" Clay exclaimed brightly.

     "Hey," An involuntary grin forced its way onto George's face at hearing his voice. He laid down again and let his eyes slip closed, yawning. "I assume you're home now?"

     "Yeah, I just got back." Clay paused for a moment. "Did I wake you up?"

     "Mhm, but it's fine," He slurred, eyes still closed. "I don't mind."

     Clay was quiet on the other side of the phone. The only thing George could hear was the muted roar of early morning traffic from outside the window.

     It was still dark, moonlight piercing through the heavy grey clouds and bathing the streets in a silver glow. A low fog hung in the air casting shadows on the pavement. The street lamps were still on, emitting their cold and artificial light for the few people still wandering the city.

     "It's weird," Clay whispered. "Being alone again. I don't like it."

     "Me neither. My flat feels so empty now."

     "God, I hate this. You're so far away."

     "I know," George mumbled. "I wish you were here." He slit his eyes open and saw Clay's hoodie he'd left behind sprawled out across his pillows and hugged it against his chest, burying his face in the material.

     Clay went silent again. Guilt gnawed at his stomach uncomfortably and he cleared his throat. "I probably should've waited until it was morning to call you."

    "No," George shook his head and clutched the sweatshirt tighter. "I wanted to hear your voice."

     After Clay had left, George had spent the rest of the day in his room just lying down and going through his memories from the past three weeks. The weather had cleared, becoming one of those rare cloudless blue sky days but George hadn't cared. Everything still seemed dull and grey to him. Even now, his chest still felt empty, a gaping cavity where his heart was supposed to be.

     "George?" Clay saying his name snapped him out of his reverie. "Are you okay?"

     "What?" His mind felt fuzzy. "Yeah I'm fine, sorry. Just zoned out."

    "Oh."

     "I want to see you." George blurted suddenly.

     "I wish I could see you too, George-"

     "No!" He interrupted. "Could we FaceTime or something? I just want to see your face."

     "Maybe tomorrow, it's pretty late. Besides, I should go unpack my stuff before I go to sleep."

     "Please?"

     "George..." Clay's heart caught in his throat as he heard the tired voice pleading with him. "Not tonight."