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They both know it was bound to fade and fall into sheer heart break.
Though nothing can stop two aching hearts from having each other.
George grasped the sense of reality when fantasy left his craving brain. Deluded thoughts that whispered sweet sugared lies lost its taste and turned bitter on his tongue.
There’s nothing left to do except to spit out hallucination in return for truth. But George was never one to handle that.
He’s left to weep alone in the dark of his bedroom as he waited for Dream that has his lips pressed against a girl on stage, holding hands and being oh-so-in love for the shots. Red carpets spent foot apart from each other with arms tucked with people they don’t and will never love.
Loving someone so deeply yet kept a secret suck. But if it’s the only way to keep it, George is willing.
George swears to hold Dream close until the last huff of breath. He holds onto Dream like he’s sacred. A missing puzzle from what leads him into the perfect life. He holds onto Dream like an oath. As if Dream is an art piece that’s sculptured just for him.
George is selfish, he admits. But if you love someone that has an easy chance to slip away, you’d do the same.
It was lovely at first. It was alright.
They cuddle, they kiss, they do couple-y things behind the curtains. George feels loved as much as he loves back.
But George is everything but an optimist.
He wouldn’t consider himself a pessimist per se. A realist is more fitting. A realist that dives too deep into assumptions and probabilities.
Because, look.
Dream has always been one to put aside his management’s statements and value what he thinks is the right move. It’s a universal knowledge; it’s what Dream is known for.
Yet lately, every single time they go out to public, Dream always dodges George’s subtle affection. It’s like he wants to keep it an everlasting secret. It’s like he’s ashamed.
Ashamed of what they have.
Ashamed of George.
So, George does what any logical person would do. He cries.
Wet hot tears spilling out of beautiful browns as he forces his quiet with Dream being right beside him. All the way in dream land and completely unaware of George’s current misery.
Soft hiccups echoes as he wet his pillow with the physical essence of broken love.
Their relationship continues on like that.
George holding tight to transparent, empty promises. Knowing well there’s no sincerity left to roll off the blond’s mouth. But he stays. As stupid as he knows it is, as foolish as love can be.
While Dream, on the other hand, never gives George even an ounce of attention when eyes linger on them. Calling George varieties of friendly nicknames that stabs right in the heart. Avoiding playful questions and allegations about them dating and seems too genuinely offended to fool George into thinking it’s all pretend.
It’s suffocating. Breathing becomes difficult when you try hard to hold back painful tears.
So it’s not a surprise when all those came down to this exact moment.
Where George finds a courage to confront Dream and where it all went down in a heated fight. Rose vases that were once a cheerful memory shattered on cold floor.
George’s face is a damp, red mess. Eyes shooting daggers to the man in front of him that once held warmth that’s no longer present.
A man that kept George like a dirty secret. An embarrassment to his reputation. A man whose voice has became rasped due to screaming for the past minutes.
They fight fire with fire. Like they always have. The flame has been waiting for them since it all started. It anticipated, and both of them saw it coming.
Later that day, the last thing George sees from Dream is that safe, sweet smile. A smile that was a vault for all his rants and break downs. That murmured comforting things to George and kissed him so lovingly. That hugged him so dear with masked lies.
It still holds the same warmth.
But George learned, that sometimes, the warmest smile is in the hand of a cold hearted man.