George's POV
George's hand felt empty now, without Clay's.
The week after the event in the woods passed slowly, painfully so. George wanted to spend more time with Clay, but the prince was overloaded with meetings. So much so, that whenever he had free time, he was sleeping, passed out from exhaustion.
And George let him sleep. If anything, he needed time to think about why he was doing what he was doing, why he was acting how he was acting.
When George grabbed Clay's hand on the day in the woods, he hadn't been thinking. George's hand seemed to slide into Clay's hand without him thinking twice. George wished he could say that he regretted it, that he was forced to hold the prince's hand, but he couldn't.
Back at his home, hand holding was an intimate gesture. So George didn't know why he grabbed Clay's hand, an action that wasn't thought about. It was regretted very briefly, but that went away when Clay didn't make a move to split their hands.
Clay had looked so upset once George stopped his hunting. George couldn't bear to see him like that, downcast and dejected and... rejected. So when George's hand fit into Clay's like a missing puzzle piece, he didn't pull it away.
Their hands were practically meant for each other, Clay's slightly larger ones enveloped George's with caution and care. Such openness as they shared warmth, shared a connection. A connection that could only be described as...
George didn't know the right word, but he knew this feeling of emptiness as his lone hand grasped at nothing. He knew this feeling of hatred for himself. George couldn't help but feel hate for what he was doing.
George knew how Clay felt, how the prince seemed to understand George like no one else ever had. George hated how he only fueled Clay's emotions by taking his hand, but squeezing it. He hadn't meant to, but when Clay squeezed back... his heart welled with happiness and longing, but most of all fear. That same damn fear that wouldn't leave him alone.
So, for the first time in over a month, George decided to push away his fear and try, actually try. To win the tournament, so if, no, when George won, the two could have a chance at figuring out what was happening.
George never knew what he wanted, but he knew he wanted Clay.
So, when George stood among the other royals a week later, he looked at Clay and grinned. He grinned in excitement and hope. And when Clay grinned back, if not cautiously, George's heart raced at the chance, at the possibility of what they could be, what they could have.
Wilbur was going over the same rules and whatnot, but George didn't bother to listen. He just looked at Clay, who was clearly confused, but smiling back nonetheless.
George hated himself for doing that to Clay, for making him confused, but he knew that he was going to try now and that was what mattered. So he shoved the fear in a trunk in the back of his head and locked it, hopefully staying away for good.
Wilbur's voice suddenly became clear as George realized that he should actually focus, "Today you will be sent into town, with a guard of course. Your goal is to follow clues around town and eventually end up back here with a certain amount of tokens that you will have picked up. The purpose of this event is so that you can get to know the people of the Southern Mainland Populace and interact with them.
"Should you win, your position as king or queen will be dealing with the people, so that is why this event is included..."
Wilbur rambled on about rules and so on and so forth. George thought that this was an interesting event, if not a fun one. He could go into town and see more of the city, more of the people. George had only seen it at night, so he could only imagine how it appeared at day.
His thoughts snapped back to the present as guards began approaching them, each royal getting one. His excited mood was immediately lessened when he saw his guard.
"Sapnap... hi," George said slowly, trying not to cringe.
Sapnap looked equally disappointed at his appointed royal as he frowned and replied, "Hello, Prince George."
George shuffled on his feet, recalling their last encounter.
'Don't treat him like shit,' were the last words that the guard had said to him.
Sapnap gave him a once over and sighed, "Let's get to it then. We don't have all day."
George resisted the urge to correct him because they actually did have all day. He looked to Clay, who was smiling encouragingly and giving him a small wave. George smiled back, his heart warming and pushing away that feeling of fear.
Sapnap caught their small interaction and his eyes narrowed. He grabbed George's arm, which was certainly not allowed, and tugged him to the city, muttering, "Let's go."
George frowned and listened to the guard. Their walking was interrupted by Clay, who jogged up to them with an earnest smile.
He looked at George, saying, "Good luck, George."
"Thank you," George murmured quietly, staring at Clay.
Sapnap huffed, not receiving any attention. He snapped his fingers in front of Clay's face, saying loudly, "Clay, we have to go, don't be a roadblock."
Clay didn't bat an eye, not tearing his eyes away from George as he said jokingly, "Sapnap, don't be a dick. I'm just wishing George good luck."
Sapnap inhaled and crossed his arms. His cold exterior faded and he said to Clay quietly, "Hey, remember what we talked about?"
Clay's grin faded immediately and he looked to Sapnap, swallowing. He nodded slowly, making George wonder what they talked about.
"I remember, Sapnap."
"You better."
George frowned, but his face lightened when Clay embraced Sapnap in a hug. The prince muttered something, making Sapnap chuckle. His eyes met George's and he offered a weak smile, winking to cover it up.
Clay rolled his eyes at something the guard said and pushed Sapnap away, flipping him off. Sapnap just laughed and waved mockingly as Clay walked away. George grinned softly at their exchange.
Sapnap glanced over at George and frowned, saying, "Let's just get this over with."
So they went into town following their first note which directed them to a blacksmith, then a weaver, then a carpenter, and so on. George gradually got to know his way around the large city and eventually, he and Sapnap were led to a flower shop.
A woman greeted them kindly, "Hello! What can I get for you today?"
"We're just looking," Sapnap said, "thank you."
The woman smiled and nodded, going back to her work. George pulled out the slip of paper that read his clue.
The clue was, 'These are a type of flower that are pleasing to our noses. To someone you like, you might give them a bouquet of.'
George looked around the shop for a certain flower, utterly confused with the similarity in colors.
He turned to his guard, muttering, "Can you help me? I'm colorblind."
Sapnap raised his eyebrows, unimpressed, "Color has nothing to do with the riddle."
George gave him a pleading look and Sapnap sighed, "Give me the clue."
George grinned and handed the paper over, starting to walk through the rows of flowers. After a moment, Sapnap came up beside him and pointed to a corner.
George walked to the corner and murmured, "Roses."
Sapnap nodded, "They're Clay's favorite. That's why they were included."
"He likes roses?" George asked, stroking the petal of one gently and picking it up.
"Yeah, red ones too. As if he could be any more plain."
"Roses are lovely," George murmured.
Sapnap said nothing, prompting George to look at him. "What?"
The guard gave him an unreadable expression. After a second of studying George he sighed and looked at the roses, "Look, Prince George, Clay is... you should be careful."
"What do you mean?"
Sapnap looked back at him, his face going from cold to caring when talking about his best friend, "He's the kindest person I know and I think that you are starting to see that. Just... just make sure that you don't take that for granted."
"I won't," George said honestly.
Sapnap looked between George's eyes, searching for something. He inhaled and said, "Listen, Clay tends to give all of himself, no matter the hurt he gets put through." He paused watching George for a moment before continuing, "If you can't care for him in the same way, then I think you should stay away."
George frowned and Sapnap added, "I don't want Clay getting hurt and I know that there's something in you that would let that happen."
"I wouldn't―"
"Prince George," he interrupted, his face painfully pleading, "please don't. Just... don't. That's all I ask."
"Don't what?"
"You know what I mean."
George's face fell. His grip on the rose in his hand tightened and the thorns bit into his palms. George winced and handed the bloodied rose to Sapnap, who took it without complaint. The guard dipped his chin in a nod and went to ask the flower shop owner for the next clue.
George stood among the roses, blood dripping slowly down his hand. His hand shook as he looked at it. Closing his eyes he held back the threat of tears because he knew... he knew exactly what Sapnap was talking about.
Sapnap saw the part of George who was afraid, the part of him that would shove Clay away if he got too scared. George hated to admit it, but that part of him wasn't as easy to hold back as he thought. That realization had hit him when holding the rose.
The realization that George could give Clay a rose as a gift. He could tell Clay how much he wanted more. More than what they had. And he did, George wanted so much more, but...
That part of him that feared a deep connection, a lasting relationship, a happy love... that was the part that would drop it all in fear. Fear of giving himself completely to Clay, scars and all. George knew that Clay would want that, he would want all of George, but George couldn't do that. He couldn't lay himself bare.
Thoughts still haunted him. The lingering voice still whispered, its raspy voice wanted different things, conflicting things. It proposed ideas like harm, self harm even, death to others, power, control. George rarely gave into the thing in his mind, knowing that he'd only attempted once.
Things were different now, George didn't need to think about that, but it still haunted him. He didn't have complete control over himself and, knowing that, he couldn't be with Clay.
His chest squeezed. It was only that morning when he decided he wanted to win, but just a few sentences from Sapnap had him turning back around, reeling in the other direction. It wasn't the guard's fault, Sapnap was right.
George was to blame. His unreliability, closed off self, his unwillingness to divulge the contents of his mind, but most of all, his fear of love.
George's chest trembled as he sighed in defeat. He squeezed his hand, stinging pains rippling and blood flowing slowly. A dark red that could only mean danger. Danger, that was the word George was looking for.
Love is dangerous, destructive even, if held in the wrong hands.
George knew he could ask Clay anything and the prince would give it to him. He could manipulate Clay and Clay would do anything for him, willingly. If George won, he wouldn't have to worry much because he would have power. It's what the voice wanted.
It wasn't what he wanted, though. George wouldn't do that to Clay, he couldn't. So danger was the right word.
Danger. Danger. Danger.
The voice chanted in his mind. George just stood there, numbly looking at the roses. His chest shuddered as he sighed.
Danger, the voice sang one more time before becoming quiet again, its presence still haunting the deepest of George's thoughts. Danger, George thought in agreement, love is dangerous. It isn't for me.
So when Sapnap came back with a slip of paper and a cloth for George's hand, George didn't bring up their previous conversation. He just took the cloth and they headed for the next place, at a slower pace this time.
And when Sapnap said nothing about George's quiet self, George just sank deeper in his thoughts. A well that didn't appear to have a bottom with sides as smooth as stone... and no way to climb back out.
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a/n - hey, do you guys think George is handling this right? keep in mind his perspective. what do you think he is going to do?
you don't have to answer, I was just curious to see where you guys think this is going
goodnight/good morning and ily! <3