Reflections Bot @Reflections_Bot

They're standing stiffly in front of what looked like a window, hands tucked behind the curve of their back. He takes a moment to appreciate the quiet and stillness that comes from the image before pushing the doors open.

This felt right, George decided. After all this time, he finally felt like he was where he was meant to be.

The grass was taller than he remembered it being in November. Flowers were still abloom— littering the grassy field with splashes of white and blue. There were no reminiscences of red any more— no metallic smell— no screaming—

"Do you really think you can hold your own?" He spat out bitterly, his knees buckling now. "Whose blade is pressed to your throat right now, George?"

"Tell me what happened," George whispered darkly, "I'm ordering you to as your prince."

George wasn't a royal brat. He wasn't going to use him. But history tends to repeat itself, doesn't it?

His silhouette is sleek and fluid-like his smile in the dawn. For now, he moves as if only a flowing outline of black, but Dream can already picture what he looks like on the other side, and he hates himself for it.

He turns back to George, finding two wide eyes staring up at him. "I hate being proven wrong, George."

Tonight, he was stuck in a system of planets, all revolving around the sun; and he was nothing but a strange, cold little planet that should have been insignificant.

"To think this room will be filled with royals from all kingdoms about in just mere hours!" Ranboo clapped his hands excitedly. "It will be a sight to see, then! A party they will talk about for the ages!"

The way he speaks his name is like an angel singing— it has his stomach dropping, but in a good way.

He hadn't remembered looking at his reflection since he was knighted as a full-time guard, but he knew the second his face came into view that he was still the same person he was trying to run from all those years ago.

Sapnap pointed an accusing finger at him, his voice rising dangerously. "You took him outside of the castle, didn't you?"

"It means we're way more alike than you think we are," he whispers under his breath, pushing closer to the prince. George retreats back up a step, looking more flustered than confused.

"Do you not know how to knock?"

It's cute, he decides, how George's bottom lip is sucked in under his top teeth just the slightest, his eyes wider than saucers, his face flooded in the golden morning light. With a heavy breath, George finally looks his way, a small smile curling on his face.

The second thing he is greeted with is a soft, yet confused, glance from the one and only Prince George. Frankly; he is nowhere close to what he expected him to look like.