George is dead.

________________________________

I awoke with a gasp, drenched in a cold sweat, despite the room I was in being relatively warm. Tears slipped down my cheeks and I closed my eyes. I felt something fidget beside me. There, next to me in bed, was George, curled up under the duvet covers. I kept reminding myself that it was just a nightmare - he was alive.

_ _ _

The accident was six. A nurse told me that after I passed out, Sapnap managed to stay conscious for another fifteen minutes in which he explained to the officers all of the events that had occured, ensuring that Ezra would face the consequences and be held accountable for his actions.

George was in terrible condition when they brought him to the hospital. He was barely breathing after he had inhaled so much smoke, then was trapped inside the burning room and also had been starved and maybe even tortured by Ezra before we had arrived in England. Doctors had performed multiple surgeries on him but there was still a very slim chance that George would ever be the same. For those four months, I visited him everyday, I spoke to him too, told him what I did that day and how much I was sorry for ever making him go back to England in the first place. He wasn't the same though. He barely ever spoke to me, he could only very vaguely recall the events down in his basement and he was like a completely different person. Until somethig clicked.

Sapnap and I were at our hotel room when we got a call. We rushed to the hospital and found George panicking. For the next two hours, we were trying to calm him down, assuring him that Ezra was locked away in prison, never to be seen or heard of again. He cried, I cried and I held him the whole time. Kissing him and whispering words of comfort to him. After he was discharged and deemed as 'back to his normal self', we all flew back to Florida and moved back into my house.

lmao 💀✋🏻

_ _ _

I awokw with a gasp, tears slif=ding down my face. I ran my hand shakily through my sweaty hair. I also tried to steady my breathing. George stirred beside me, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Are you okay? he whispered tiredly and I nodded silently. He studied my expression, then sat up in bed. His gentle, brown eyes gazed up into mine and then I burst out crying.

"Oh Dream," George said rubbing circles on my back and brushing away my tears with his thumb, "What's wrong?"

"I-it's nothing," I sniffed, "Just a nightmare y'know."

Snuggling into me, he murmured, "Just remember that it's not real. Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, then I climbed out of bed, slipped a hoodie on and left the room, leaving George. Silently, I trailed down the stairs and sat on my own in the living room. I just sat there. Thinking. Thinking about what I would do if I lost George. My train of thought was interrupted when someone came downstairs.

His oversized t-shirt that draped over him was slipping off of one of his shoulders and his sweatpants trailed onto the floor. Without saying anything, he slid down next to me and rested his head on my shoulder. I took my thumb and traced over the burns and scars -from the accident- that were etched onto his porcelain face,delicately grazing his cheeks. Tears were still silently sliding down the bridge of my nose.

"Why are you crying?" George whispered.

"I don't ever want to lose you..." I murmured quietly, sniffling.

He tiredly replied, "You won't ever lose me, though."

I smiled weakly and cuddled into him. George drifted off to sleep, still resting on my chest. I could see his body rising and falling as he slept. Holding him towards me, I knew I was going to be okay; George was my number one, and I was his. I wasn't second best anymore.

I was his, forever. As deeply he was mine.

But this isn't the end of our story.

Little did we know, 1000 miles away, Ezra escaped from prison.