Dreamnotfound oneshots

Love, Zula

You've kissed me once, I'm certain of it. I've felt your lips before.

Not under-finger nor gracing elsewhere residing skin but atop mine, set centre and leftward leaning.

You've kissed me once, I'm certain of it. It's not a feeling I could simply conjure.

It was with the gentleness of a butterfly's wing and sincerity of a hundred sonnets. It was every word I'd ever begged you to say.

And I'm certain of it with every synapse you say resides in my brain. With every point to my IQ, my certainty only grew.

Because you don't say it often (just once was enough) but you truly believe I'm intelligent. And if you believe it so then it must be true.

But such certainty has plagued me with a desire too strong. A desire that scorches lonely skin, shrouds tired eyes and aches at a solitary heart.

It's a craving in the very foundation of my bones, incessant and insatiable. A sensation that sits snug against my Adam's apple and flares in my lungs at the symphony of your sound.

A desire that tears the very heart from my caving chest and places it delicately between your fingers. A desire that begs you, my dearest, to move closer, laugh louder, stay longer.

A desire to be desired by you.

Because such want can only ever be solved by it's requital. That or by its utter, searing destruction.

And it's that trembling fear of complete crumbling over a quiet return that keeps my stuttering heart in its silence.

But you've kissed me once, George, I'm certain of it. Now I only wish that you'd kiss me in this life too.

Love, Zula

////:\\\\

I should not have read that, was George's very first thought as the words echoed and faded out in his mind. I really, really should not have read that.

To be entirely fair to himself, he couldn't have ever know that something like that would be sat scrawled on a scrunched up piece of paper he'd found sat beside the bin.

He hadn't intended to unravel it either, he'd simply felt the need to put the offending litter where it belonged since the last owner had clearly missed but stopped upon noticing a familiar hand in writing.

Now that he had read it, George wasn't entirely sure what to do with it or himself. Zula had been on his mind since he'd found their confessions while browsing tumblr with Nick and Clay for a laugh. Their words had stuck with him, lingering in the back of his throat with a sweet, heavy taste to them.

He figured now that maybe a part of him had known, subconsciously, that they'd found those secret admissions for a reason. But with it confirmed, and with the confirmation that Zula was closer than George's heart could ever hope for, he was rather lost with which way to turn.

He hadn't thought of the way Zula's words pulled on something ancient within him for fear of leading himself straight into the hands of a whimsical heartbreak. George wasn't one to fall for someone he didn't know and that wasn't a streak he wished to break.

Except it seems he'd already broken it, considering the way he ever carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

He'd claim, rather incessantly, that he kept such paper for analysis. That he kept it in order to decipher which of his current housemates - he really ought to just call them his friends like normal people do - could harbour such feelings for him.

And if he was caught pouring over the paper with an awestruck warmth under the light of the moon then he'd assure that who found him that he worked best at night, as all true streamers do. He wouldn't be believed, not for the reddish hue to his skin, but he'd say it anyways.

——————————————
800 words

A snippet of an idea I've had on my mind for a while now that I'd love to write out if people would like to read it.

George, Sapnap and Dream decide to browse their tumblr tags while bored and on call late one night. While on George's tag, they come across an account that is seemingly unrelated, under the alias Zula. Zula's blog details almost poetic admission's of the user's feelings towards the world and towards select, anonymous people. They laugh at the time but George can't get the words and the user off his mind.

George is then spending time house-sharing with friends - who exactly is still to be determined other than Bad, Dream, Sapnap and Wilbur. Early on in the trip, he finds Zula's crumpled note in the house he's sharing and realises that not only are the admissions for him but they are also from someone he knows currently. He spends the rest of his days there attempting to find Zula's true identity, but not because he'd gained a semblance feelings for them through their posts or anything because that would be ludicrous.

Yours, Dandy