Smell My Pain | A Dreamnotfound Story

Chapter 6

George ran. He ran as fast as he could, away from the boy he liked.

The boy he loved.

Love. What is love? Is love the feelings of blooming flowers in your heart? Or is it the desire of spending your entire life with that special someone? Or is it...

Kissing someone you've only known for a few months?

George had a long time to ponder those questions as he ran out of the castle to Hogsmeade. To get as far away from any human being he possibly could. George found an open field with one lone tree standing upright in the corner. He collapsed by the tree from sheer exhaustion, emotional and physical. He felt the hot tears roll down his cheeks and fall onto the snowy grass. He sobbed for the fact that his friendship with Clay would never be the same again. 

"George?"

He shook his head which was buried in his knees. He did not want Clay to see him in this state. 

"George. Look up."

George felt a finger slowly tip his head up. Familiar blonde hair covered the freckled boy's head, and his dangerous smile that George fell in love with was on his face, making George fall in love all over again.

"It's alright, George. It's okay, it's alright."

And Clay pulled George into a hug. Suddenly, George became deaf. Not a single sound reached his ears. The only thing he could hear was the furious beating of his heart.

"It's fine, the crowd was just pressuring you to do it. I know you didn't mean it."

But what if I did?

The tears did not stop flowing down. Clay sighed, realising his attempt at comforting George was not working. He held George's shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"Nick taught me a new word today, homie. He said it meant friend. I heard in America they kiss the homies goodnight or something. Maybe, this was just a homie kiss."

"Just a homie kiss?" George whispered, trying to believe that what he did was an act of exclusive friendship and nothing more.

"Yes, that's all it is."

George sniffled. He used his sleeve to clean his nose. He sighed.

"My Dad said I was the loudest baby in the village. I cried all day and all night long. Even when I was older I still cried when I felt sad at the littlest things. I hate it. I hate how fucking emotional I am."

Clay sat down crossed legged. 

"It's not your fault, you know."

"I know. I still detest it."

"I think I know why. You have the ability to smell the traces of magic on people, something that may be very personal to them," Clay laughed a bit, remembering the incident that happened when they first met. "That's why you wear your emotions on your sleeve. If you can smell out someone's secret, it's only fair they can see what you feel."

"I guess."

"Cmon. Nick is waiting for us in the castle."

Clay stood up. He extended his hand to George, akin to how George did the same thing to him so many months ago. George grasped his rough palm and pulled himself up. They walked to the castle slowly, admiring the snowflakes falling all around them.

After a warm cup of hot chocolate, George felt much better. He still did not want to think about the event that happened earlier, but luckily for him, that was pushed to the back of his mind because Nick suggested having a snowball fight.