not a love story. {dreamnotfound}

two.

i have nothing to say? uhmmm this whole story is going to be triggering so yeah just be aware of that

So without further adieu...
I present to you,
Issues Unfolding.

"Don't get mad, okay," he speaks up hesitantly.

"You fucked him didn't you." Alex deadpans.

George immediately chokes on his coffee. "You can't just say stuff like that in the middle of fucking Starbucks!" He wheezes as he wipes down the spilt coffee with a stray napkin.

"Oh god, tell me I'm wrong." The other cringes.

"I didn't have sex with him, you dumbass. Obviously I didn't." George rolls his eyes. "He's just more of a decent guy than I thought . . ." They look down in their lap; an attempt to avoid the other's eyes which are now boring into his head.

"He threatened you bodily harm at a fucking frat party. George what the fuck are you on about." Alex deadpans once again.

"Yeah, but —"

"There is no 'but.' Distance yourself from him. Guys like this are dangerous. They're crazy and manipulative and can get away with almost anything. Do you understand that?"

"Can you at least try to listen to me?!" George snaps, loud enough for a few heads to turn.

"I'll start listening when this bullshit stops coming out your mouth."

"Aren't you supposed to be my friend? Don't friends accept friends? Hm?" The brunette scoffs.

"Listen, George. I'm just saying this because I care. I don't want to see you get hurt. Don't you fucking remember what happened last time?"

Images of needles and blades and fingerprints he'll never be able to wash off his skin flash through his mind. He can't break. If he does he'll never be able to put himself together again. "Fuck you, Alex. This has nothing to do with that asshole. It's funny you think you're even granted the permission to bring him up." He snarls.

"Well, don't come crying to me when he ruins your life like he did." Alex rebuttes snidely.

"Go fuck yourself," George spits out before aggressively pushing back the stool and storming out of the café.

~~

"Fuck." George mutters as he rolls out of bed. He's always liked the rain but today? Not so much. He just wants the feeling of warmth to caress his skin right now. Everything is just too dull and cold right now.

Wet sleet swarms the glass pane of his window and trickles in where he had left it cracked open. Water drips from the sill and creates a puddle on the floor. It's night out, but the sky is bright with lightning and charcoal gray storm clouds. Perhaps it's the ominous way thunder rumbles in the distance, or how the trees cast spindly shadows on his walls, but he gets the feeling that someone is watching him from afar. It's moments like these he deeply regrets signing the lease on a first floor apartment.

George shuts the curtains and locks the windows. Though, he supposes it wouldn't change anything if there's someone lurking outside his room. His computer, still on from streaming earlier that day, casts a pale blue sheen that makes his skin look pale and transparent in the glow. It would almost feel peaceful if not for the way his heart has creeped into his throat.

Despite the blankets piled high on top of him and the safety he seeks in closed doors and quiet, his bones chafe against his flesh and he wants nothing more than to tear his skeleton from his skin and run. Blearily, he glances at his phone, it's dead but he's guessing it's far past midnight — halfway between sunrise and delirium. He'd always enjoyed this time. Late sleepers were just now heading to bed and early risers were still asleep. The world was silent during these times. George craved for silence. It was almost sickening how much he'd loved it. But right now? It was far from the type of silence he'd loved and it made his skin crawl. It was an eerie silence and it just made him want to fade into the darkness of the night and hide away forever.