Ayyy lmao I have blue hair now

Anyway here's this (I almost forgot to post it but its ok)

TW: quick sexual mention, aftermath of rape, suggested PTSD

Previously...

I dragged my luggage onto the little walkway that led up to the door, leaving it a few feet behind me.

I stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath before knocking.

I wait for what feels like forever, and I'm about to give up when I hear the soft click of the lock. The door opens cautiously, and I see a face once familiar.

"George?"

George's P.O.V.

Everything hurts. I don't want to move, I really just don't. I feel gross and a little bloated, the waves of pain washing up and crashing down over me. It was miserable. I was miserable.

Cole had left after cumming inside me. Some of the white liquidy substance was leaking out of me onto the bed, but I didn't really care. I was ashamed. Cole had made sure to remind me, several times, that all I am is a toy for him to do what he pleases. I'm nothing.

And I feel like nothing, too. All of this, it's too much, and my trauma-spotted brain can't process it, not anymore.

Guess that's just another thing I've lost.

I don't want to move. But I should, I really need to clean myself up. I limp to the bathroom, cleaning myself up quickly before starting the water for a shower. I swipe my hand through the hot water, sighing.

And then there's a knock at the door. Cole isn't home, and I don't want to risk it being him and me not letting him in. With a groan, I shut the water off, silently hoping that Cole wasn't home yet and this was just some door-to-door salesman.

I approached the door slowly, limping, waiting to see if the person would leave. They didn't, so I unlocked the door, turning the knob and peeking out cautiously.

Standing there was a man I've never seen before in my life. He was tall, with shaggy looking dirty blond hair and eyes that could've been green, maybe, but appeared yellowish for me. He seemed oddly familiar in a way, but I couldn't put a name to the face until he spoke.

"George?" Dream. Dream was standing on my doorstep. I gasped, throwing myself into his arms and holding on like I would never let go.

I didn't want to let go. Dream was here, in England, on my doorstep, in my arms. It was surreal. It didn't feel real, I didn't feel real. This was some kind of prank, surely?

"George!" He exclaimed cheerfully, grinning widely. I only stood at about his chest, which was embarrassing, but I couldn't bring myself to care. "I'm so glad to see you, I was all worried-" I immediately let go of him, stepping back with a frown.

I waved my arms, shaking my head to try and tell him "no, don't worry about me," but he didn't seem to understand.

"Why haven't you responded to anyone? People are getting concerned, George, I'm concerned. For you. Are you ok?" Dream asked, eyes searching mine, scanning over my body. I felt like I was back on display, frowning and stepping back a few steps. I curled in on myself slightly, hunching my back and crossing my arms over my chest.

"George-" He reached out, and I slapped his hand away. He stared at me with wide eyes, full of confusion and hurt. "George...?" I backed away further, grabbing my arms. I couldn't hurt Dream, I wouldn't let myself do it again. I had to leave, I needed to shower, I needed to wash it all away, I needed to get away, get off of m-

"George." His voice was firm, and I immediately froze. Nononononono please don't pLEASE NO-

A gentle hand found its way to my shoulder, cautious and careful. Almost as if I was made of glass. He seemed unsure of what to do, clear discomfort and worry in his eyes.

"Please, talk to me. I want to hear your voice, Georgie, please?" Dream spoke in a whisper, calm and quiet. His scared expression betrayed his voice, however, and I was mad at myself for scaring him. He didn't deserve that.

Aw Gogy I'm sorry :((

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