Spifey - Lost
The leaves crunched beneath your feet as you trudged through the woods with a heavy heart and a frown permanently etched across your face.
You had just gotten into a fight with you best friend, George. The first fight the two of you had ever had, and it was over something so ridiculously stupid, that you wondered if the fight had ever really taken place. If it was just something your mind had made up, or if it had been a dream. It was real, though, and you hated that.
You had met a guy, a fairly attractive one named James, who was always dressed in a fancy suit and tie and the brown hair in his head sat correctly, not a single strand of hair not obeying to how it had been done in the morning. Captivating dark eyes, that left all of his life stories to the imagination, and a mysterious aura surrounding him. On some levels, you thought he reminded you of George, if not for the fancy suit and tie, and the slick hair. Maybe that was why you had said yes when James had asked you out.
Maybe that was why George had gotten mad. James reminded you of him, so of course you had said yes when he asked you out. Maybe the resemblance between James and George was what had pissed him off. You were best friends, you weren't supposed to be attracted towards one another, you had thought. Maybe that's why he was mad.
Or maybe you were just oblivious to the obvious, and the fact that George had been in love with you for as long as he could remember, because you had no idea why he had suddenly lashed out at you, when you thought he was actually invested in the rant about James you had going on.
It was always the two of you. You and George. Together, against the world, with no one else to help each other through tough things. He didn't want that to change. He didn't want you to meet a guy better than him, even if he knew you deserved it. He felt as if he wasn't good enough, and hearing you talk about James with that special glint in your eyes felt like a knife to his heart. No, scratch that, it felt like 100 knives to his heart.
If only he knew the many times you had gushed about him like that to Zak, with that certain glint in your eyes.
It hurt George, seeing you kissing James by the door as he had dropped you off at home from your fourth date earlier. It hurt him, every single world you told him about James. It hurt him, seeing you that happy with somebody that wasn't himself.
If only he knew how hard you were trying to get over him by meeting somebody else. Because you thought the same exact thing as him: I'm not good enough for him.
You had no idea how long you had been walking through the woods. You weren't even sure how you got out here in the first place, and that you had been walking in circles, but darkness was falling upon you and the stars had started their twinkling above you. The moon peeked through some of the leaves on the trees above you, and it shone down on a small pond that was located in the deep woods. It made the water twinkle as well. Like the stars.
After you ran out of the apartment shared with George, Harvey and Zak, your feet all-but carried you wherever they wanted to go as you let your thoughts run loose. You had even considered calling James to come pick you up, but now, you couldn't help but be annoyed with the resemblance he had to George. You didn't think you could even look at his face without bursting into tears.
James didn't have to know that you had imagined George sitting there, across from him on the fancy restaurant on your first date. Or when he had kissed you for the first time. Or when you had kissed him by the entrance to your apartment earlier. He didn't have to know that every time you looked at him, all you saw was George. That you liked George, and not him. But you couldn't keep imagining your best friend as the guy you were dating, and had in the heat of the moment deleted James' contact information from your phone earlier, as you speed-walked down the street.
You didn't know what to do after that, where to go or even what you had done wrong, why George had lashed out on you like he did. Had you said something in a video that was wrong? Had you placed the cereal in the wrong spot again? Was it because you forgot to take out your plate after dinner last week?
No, it wasn't that. The conversation you two had was nowhere near along those lines. He never even mentioned you saying something wrong after recording, and if you did, he would cut it out while editing. He would've not been this pissed about you putting the cereal in the wrong place again. Last time you did that, he just hugged you from behind and reminded you where it had to go. The plate was impossible too, because it had been in your room for only a couple of hours before you took it out and put it in the dishwasher. Plus, George, Zak and Harvey had been out. They had no idea that you had ever had a plate in your room, and even if they did, there was no reason to be this mad over a plate.
"It was always you and I, Y/n! And now James is here, and by the look on your face, he's gonna be here for a long time, if not forever!"
You felt tears well up in your eyes as you walked, blurring your vision completely, and as you tried to blink them away, it only ended with them spilling over your eyes and falling down your cheeks.
You felt so bad. Why, you had no idea, because at the moment, you couldn't figure out why he had gone crazy like he did. This was your first fight, and you didn't like it. The unsettling feeling in your stomach, the tears, the pounding headache as you replayed every single word George had said in your head, murmuring them out loud every once in a while. You wanted it all to stop.
You wanted to just go back to being George and Y/n, the iconic Minecraft duo that mostly everybody shipped online.
Even if you had to hide your feelings for George, you would do it, if it just meant that this fight would be over, and that you could go back to being friends again.
It was all so confusing.
George was pacing around in his room back at the apartment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, only rising for each passing second. Not only did the british boy feel guilt and remorse from earlier, but he was also worried sick, as you had been gone for hours now, and night time had officially settled.
You had ran out at noon.
Maybe you had called James to pick you up. Maybe you were with the oh-so-great James, kissing him, laughing with him. Maybe James had been your knight in shining armour when you needed it, instead of George. James, James, James.
Even his name spiked up anger and jealousy inside of George, something that he normally wouldn't feel.
Anger and jealousy. Two bad emotions that he hated more than James Rhyder, and what had potentially both just destroyed his friendship with you, but also exposed his deep feelings for you - his life was truly at a downfall right now, and all he wanted was to get back up on the horse again... But you had always been the one to help him back up, however, now you weren't here, and he was trapped in his own mind, with no way out.
He couldn't help how he felt. The jealousy, the burning hatred towards James, who was actually a good guy, or the swelling of his heart whenever he saw you, the tingles left on his skin when you touched him, the constant want of your attention.
He couldn't help but fall deeper in love with you every day... But now, he may have just ruined it. All because of jealousy.
When you finally snapped back into reality and took a good look around you, was when you grew scared.
The crickets played a lonely melody, the wind rustled around in the trees, playing tag with itself and a twig snapped here and there, making you constantly jump around to find the source of the sound.
"... Slenderman?" You called out wearily, your voice carrying itself throughout the deep, dark woods, "Are you out here? Because if so, there's no point in making me run. I surrender."
You knew the fairy tales of Slenderman weren't true, but the sound of your own voice reminded you of safety and that you weren't dead. Yet.
But, when you took a good look around, you suddenly realized that the pattern of the trees wasn't what you were used to. It felt as if the unexplored parts of the woods went on for miles as you looked around, taunting you. It whispered to you that you would never find home again, and suddenly, you felt closed up, like an animal trapped in a cage, despite the fact that you were outside in the open, with nothing but the trees to keep you company.
It felt as if somebody was watching you... But there was nobody else besides the wind and trees, and then you, standing there, lost.
You were lost. And in more ways than just the surroundings being unfamiliar.
With shaky hands, you pulled out your phone and thanked every God in existence that it still had some battery left, despite the screen being as cold as an icecube in your sweaty hands. You used face-ID to open your phone, the background of you and George in Disneyland, before the big castle and with you kissing his cheek, making a weird tug suddenly pull at your devistated heart. A sad tug, that led you to swiftly finding George's contact information in your phone with ease.
But you hesitated, your finger hovering above the "call" button. Maybe you should call James instead... You had his number written down on a small napkin in your pocket. You knew it was still there, because you had never taken it out after he had given it to you the first time you met him.
Surely, James would come pick you up, despite the late hour. He was a good guy, you knew that.
However, you felt as if you were doing something wrong, just by the thought of calling James, the guy you had gone on a couple of dates with, and not George, the guy you really wanted to be with, and also your long-term best friend.
So, you hesitantly pressed the "call" button, and put your cold phone up to your ear, trying to heave for oxygen even though you were nowhere near out of breath. It felt as if the trees were getting closer by the second, and the wind became more untameable the more it roamed free around you.
First beep.
Second beep.
Third bee--
"Hello?" George asked. His voice sounded desperate, a slight twinge of sadness hidden in there as well, and he sounded just as lost as you... If not more.
Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally.
"S-Spifey," You stammered, your voice quivering and shaking, "I-I don't know where I am, I don't know how I got h-here. Please, I know we had a fight earlier, and I'm sorry for whatever I said or did, but I really need you. I'm lost... I don't know what to do."
George was quiet on the other end, trying to process what words had just come out of your mouth. His heart skyrocketed and he felt as if he was about to explode: everything was a complete and utter mess right now. At least, that's what it felt like.
"Okay, listen to me very closely," He then instructed, making sure his voice was loud and clear, "I need you to look around, and tell me what you see."
"I don't see anything, George," You trembled, "Everything's so dark, I can hardly see 4 feet in front of myself. Uhm, there's trees, I'm in the forest, I just walked past a small pond. I think- I think there was a sign, but I didn't read it."
Forest, small pond, sign.
"O-okay," George stammered. That didn't exactly give him much to go by. There were small ponds and signs everywhere in the woods. "Just-"
"Wait!" You interrupted, "I see something... It looks like a treehouse... Of some sort. There's a lit candle outside of it- Oh shit!"
"What?" George panicked, "What's wrong?"
"I burned myself on the freaking candle!" You hissed, retracting your hand from the candle, that had almost burned out completely.
The treehouse was worn out. It looked like it had been build a long time ago... But what caught your interest was what had been written on the door, carved into it with a sharp object to be exact. "King Potatoes' House. No Trespassing."
It was hard to make out what exactly had been written, and the only reason you could make out the words, was because of the dying flame that danced on the remaining candle, changing directions with the wind, and because of your hand running over the carvings.
"The treehouse," You exhaled shakily, "It has some sort of writing on the door... It says 'King Potatoes' house. No Trespassing.'"
George went quiet for a moment, before it suddenly hit him; he knew where you were. He had made that carvings in that door a long time ago - it was a dare from his friend, BadBoyHalo, that he had to find the nearest treehouse and carve that into the door with a knife in honor of Technoblade; he wasn't sure why, but he went along with it. That's the day he got the scar on his middle finger from the knife slipping.
"Okay, Y/n," George said, "Listen to me, okay?"
You nodded, even though he couldn't see it, and clutched onto your cold phone even tighter.
"Take deep breaths," He instructed, "I know where you are, okay? So, just, sit tight, and I will be there soon. I promise."
"You promise?" You shakily asked.
"I promise." He confirmed.
Your phone had went dead only seconds after, and you had once again been left alone with the darkness of the woods and the howling wind.
Complying to George's request, you looked around and found the nearest log that was somewhat clean. You thanked God, because it was the log right next to the dying candle. Even if it didn't give much light, you felt as if it kept the monsters hidden in the dark abay, and that was enough to make you feel safe enough to take a seat and pull your legs all the way up to your chin.
You wrapped your arms around yourself as the wind picked up, making goosebumps rise on your skin.
Every single twig snapping, every little leaf blowing in the wind, had you jumping like an animal in a cage, and you tried thinking of something happy, anything, other than the thought of you being in the woods, at night, alone.
And, so, you started thinking of him, the guy that was on his way to safe you right now. You thought about his brown hair, the one that looked like James', even though his was 100 times better than James' hair. You thought about his glasses, him when he had dressed up as an e-boy. All the small things about him you focused on as you pictured his face before your eyes.
You had thought that James would at least graze your mind, just for a second, but all you saw was George. George, George, George.
And you were glad your mind agreed with your heart - you didn't wanna be thinking about someone else.
You sat there, in the cold night alone, picturing the face of the man you were so desperately in love with, until he finally appeared in real-life.
He looked like some sort of light in a completely dark room. Maybe it was the flashlight he was carrying, maybe it was because to you, he looked like a knight in shining armor right about now.
"Y/n!" He yelled, his voice echoing through the trees - he hadn't spotted you yet.
It didn't matter, though. Whether it was the flashlight or your imagination. All you could think about was how he was out here, at night, in the middle of the woods with a flashlight in his left hand and his favorite grey blanket in his right, yelling for you, looking for you. He was here, looking for you.
You stood up from the log you were sat on before, but almost fell due to the numbness in your legs.
He saw you only moments later.
"Y/n," George breathed, his eyes scanning over your shaking and freezing frame, looking for some sort of injury.
"Oh, thank God." You cried out, before running at full speed towards him. You launched yourself into his arms when you were close enough, and wrapped your legs around his waist.
George dropped the flashlight, but he almost didn't notice; all that mattered was that you were in his arms, safely, and with no injuries.
He wrapped his arms around you so tightly, fearing that if he let go, you'd be gone in an instant. He feared that if he let go, he would lose you again, just like he thought he had all those hours ago. You clutched onto him like your life depended on it, so he knew you weren't going anywhere, but he couldn't help but want to make sure that you didn't vanish in his arms. He buried his face into your neck with a trembling sigh, and felt like he could finally breathe once again. Now that he knew you were safe.
"Where were you?" He breathed into your neck, not paying a single mind to the fact that goosebumps rose on your skin. It was just the cold, right?
"I don't know, Spifey." You mumbled into his shirt, where you had nuzzled your head to reassure yourself that this wasn't some sort of hallucination. "I'm so sorry for what happened earlier, okay? I just-"
"Stop. You don't have to explain yourself," George sighed, "I was the one on the wrong back there. It's just..."
You placed your feet back onto the ground and pulled back so you could see his face. You saw how his glasses had fallen down slightly, and how he was avoiding eye-contact with you.
He felt guilty. Guilty for lashing out at you... Guilty for liking you as more than a best friend. But he couldn't help it.
You reached up and pushed his glasses back into place, before lifting his chin up so he would look you in the eyes. Even then, he tried not to, but he found your eyes to be so captivating, that once he looked inside of them, he couldn't look away.
"It's just what?" You gently asked.
"It's just..." He trailed off again, "Just... Just..."
It was like you knew what he was gonna say, without him having to say it; his eyes were screaming it all, every word his mouth was too numb to say, his eyes told you. And suddenly, the pieces that wouldn't fit together before, finally clicked into place.
It's just that I like you.
He was jealous. Of you and James.
And then, you were suddenly the one to feel guilty. You knew it must've hurt him, hearing you rant on about James, seeing you kiss him by the door... Hearing you had decided to go on a date with him.
George knew you'd figured it out now, too... And, so, he looked down, waiting for you to twist out of his grasp and run 100 miles away from him.
But you never did.
Instead, you stood up on your tippy-toes, and pulled his tall figure down towards you.
And you kissed him.
In that exact moment, as the two of you stood at night, in the middle of the woods, kissing each other, you both knew you were gonna be okay, and that everything that earlier had been a problem, was pushed out of the way. Your friendship, despite now on the way to be upgraded, was gonna last. So would your newly blossomed relationship.
And in that same moment, the wind came and took the napkin with James' number on, pulling it out of your pocket. It fell towards the ground, the wind changing its direction multiple times, before it safely landed on the ground in the mud.
Lost and forgotten.
___________
Meh, I don't really know about this one. Tbh I'm kinda disappointed in myself that I couldn't come up with something better because I absolutely love Spifey XD
Anyways, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓: 𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐘 | 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃
Stay tuned and stay safe, guys!
vote or die tmr
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