Though he desperately refuses the conformities of modern novel tropes, George acknowledges he's just the same as every book character. A side character that is. Studying his way into writing a hit novel George has to master the ups and downs of his...
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"I don't ever wanna stop this ride we're on." All 4 Nothing (Im so In Love) Lauv
George
"Hide me," I plead stuffing myself deep into Dream's layered jackets. The hollering passes us just as he conceals my entire top half under strong biceps. The gentle mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent is comforting. Someone solid to sink into after everything.
"Why am I hiding you from them?" With my ear pressed to his sternum I can hear him swallow a drink, his heart beat slightly nervous. It's enough to press my smile against his grey cotton shirt. Nuzzling the edge of my nose at the fabric he pets gently over my shoulder.
"Because they are loud," each word comes out muffled beneath fabric. "And I'm tired."
"No, you're drunk." Dream's hand warms my skin dragging up and down my clothed spine like a sealed promise. "How many shots have you had."
"None," I fib. His body heat is engulfing. "I drank whatever is in the punch."
"Bad choice, baby."
"Baby." Dream looks down at me to frown. I frown back far more comically. There is a lot I want to tell him. About how scared I am to break us that I don't want to try anything more. How I'm willing to do everything to have him for moments. Even now, I want to whisper about sinking into his skin and making a home between his ribcage. It feels like the alcohol is talking but all that comes out of my mouth is, "We're going to be ok."
He softens, shoulders standing a little straighter to hold both our weights, "we are okay."
Then, because reckless is my middle name with Dream, I press up into his personal space. Dragging my hazy gaze over him slowly, eye by eye it's easy to see just how unguarded he is with me now. I smile, a little hazy under the harsh ice rink lights used to illuminate the stadium, and press forward. We haven't kissed in a long time, with everything that has happened but I kiss him now. Closed lips pressed to his parted ones, my footing on the ice falters immediately. Straight forward, I'm sent into the crook of his neck instead of coming off smooth. Both of my arms latch onto him for dear life and he meets me halfway chuckling.
"You never were the best ice skater. Were you?" With his drink abandoned to the rink barricade, he swoops my weight back into balance and urges me towards the center congregation. "Ice skating and you don't mix, adding alcohol is like asking for a broken nose."
"Is not." It is. I nearly broke something early escaping Karl.
Close to my ear, Dream whispers, "come on, let's go sit down."
It's cold on the rink, that's why I shiver. Not because Dream's hand's ghost over my waist as we make it to the circle of lawn chairs laid out on the ice. Oddly there is a carpet big enough to fit half of the team laid directly on the ice for others to sit, and the chairs seem to be designated to the team members. Each has a number.
