FEELINGS | Dream & Georgenotfound

Lonley

He became fidgety, tapping his fingers on the bed.

Should I call him?

He took out his phone and called George. The taunting ringing went on for a couple of seconds, and a couple more.

Please pick up, I miss you.

The ringing stopped.

"Hello?" His sweet, cute voice traveled in his ears.

"Hey! What's up?" Clay's face lit up.

"Nothing really, just tired."

Tired? God, I wish I could cuddle you right now.

"Yeah, I was gonna get to editing the video we did the other day, so, how was your day?" Clay asked.

Fuck, that's so cheesy

"Oh, uh, It was okay, I didn't do much. You?" His sweet voice was enough to make him blush.

"Honestly same, I don't know, it's been boring lately," Clay laughed, "I wish I had something else to do."

Clay has been dying at the thought of visiting George. He kept replaying what he said right before he boarded the plane;

"Can you promise to visit me soon?"

How much time did "soon" mean? A couple of weeks? Months? A year? Clay didn't want to pressure George into having him visit. Although, basing off this on how he's been acting, he needed space. But his tears, his voice, what does it all mean? Maybe George was waiting for him to say something about it, or, maybe he should wait for George to bring it up.

Fuck.

Not today, maybe another day.

George chuckled, "Me too, uh, Nick and I recorded a video the other day so I'm editing that right now actually."

"Wow, without me?!" Clay laughed.

"Yeah sorry," George laughed along with him, "I was planning on streaming later, you could join if you want too."

Clay smiled, "Yeah! Just text me when!"

"Sounds good, well I'm gonna try to get some work done, I'll message you later," George said.

"Okay, bye."

"Bye." He heard George hang up the phone.

Clay got up from his bed and headed downstairs to his kitchen. He was greeted by his cat, patches. She crawled over to his feet, purring. He kneeled down, petting her.

"I'm glad I have you, you must be hungry."

He walked over to the cabinets, unveiling the cat food. He poured the food into her colorful bowl, she thanked him by meowing. Clay smiled.

Now thinking about it, he was hungry himself. He opened his fridge, revealing a variety of newly stocked ingredients. Clay let out a sigh.

Ugh, I don't wanna cook. Fuck it, I'll order McDonalds.

He took out his phone and opened the food delivery app. He placed his order, now he just has to wait.

Each day felt like it got slower, each second on the clock ticked slower than the one before it. Maybe he should just take the bullet, suffer the possible pain of asking to visit him. It's such a simple question; yet so terrifying.

What's the worst that could happen? If George said no, he's just busy - it's not that deep. And if he says yes, well, that's exactly what he wants. He wondered what he does all day, what we eats, what he wears, what he thinks about. He wondered if George ever thought about him, and if he did; what would he think about?