A merman's tear (dreamnotfound)

Chapter Thirteen

When George woke up, it was with a rather content feeling in his heart. He'd told Dream his name. He thought he'd regret that. He looked over at Dream who was reading a book, apparently already awake. He didn't regret it.

George felt weird about how quickly he was growing accustomed to Dream's presence around him. It wasn't too long ago that he couldn't even stand the idea of the man being in the same room as him, let alone talking to him. But now, well- now George liked it when he was there. He knew he shouldn't. He knew it was bad. Because it would end bad. Soon they'd be at Schlatt's kingdom, and all of his and Dream's progress would be gone. But George just couldn't help it. There was something interesting about him. Whether it was the mystery behind the mask or the fact that he was just so nice, George wasn't sure. It was probably both of them, now that he thought about it. 

Dream was brave. He lived a hard life. He protected his family. He was different to George. George just wasn't like him. He felt like a coward. He was making friends with the enemy. He was selfish. He had no family to protect. 

He glanced over at Dream again. George wanted to be like him. He wanted to be brave. Dream was brave. Why couldn't he be? George bit his lip. He didn't know why he felt like this. He had barely any social interactions to take notes off. No past experiences to contrast against this, to help him understand what to do. He remembered bits and pieces of his pod. He remembered some of it vividly. But it wasn't enough. None of it was enough. It was of no help to him. 

It was kind of funny. He was like this because of humans. Humans had ruined his life years before. They'd taken his family and taken all chances of him knowing what to do when they did so. But he needed those experiences that he'd missed out on to connect with other humans.

Funny. In a dark way. 

God, George was more of a mess than he thought he was. Finding humour in his family's deaths? Sure, he was incredibly sad about it, and he wished it had never happened, more than anything he wished that. And yet he found humour in it?

Dream wouldn't find humour in his family's deaths. That's another thing that separated them. Dream was good. George was not. Maybe if George spent more time with him...well maybe Dream could teach him to be good. George had the basics down. He just needed an extra push. Dream was nice. He'd help him with that, surely.

George sighed again. Yesterday had been good. He didn't want to ruin it. He couldn't ruin it. He'd never meant to tell Dream his name. It wasn't on the list of things to do. But it just slipped out. George wondered what else would accidentally slip out. He wondered what else he could say that he knew he shouldn't.

George shook those thoughts away and sat up from under the water, droplets falling from his hair, which caused Dream to turn over from reading his book and smile at George. He flipped his book shut and placed it on his blanket.

George smiled at him slightly. He wasn't sure how to proceed. Telling Dream his name had been a big step, one that he wasn't expecting.

"You sleep a lot." Dream commented, causing George to look up at him with a weird look.

Dream laughed to himself, fidgeting with his hair as he sat with George.

"So what are we doing today?" George questioned the other man. Maybe they'd toss a ball between them, or talk about things, or maybe Dream could find something else to occupy his time with-

"Well, I was thinking you could meet one of my friends today." Dream cut George's inner rant off.

Wait, what? That was not a good idea. That was a bad idea. Sure, Dream was cool, but Dream was special. All humans aren't like Dream. Although yes, he talked about his friends all the time and how nice they were, but he's probably biased! Yes, that's it. Dream is just biased, and his friends are probably evil humans, just like the ones that ruin everything. Why would Dream suggest that? Was he going to do something? George shouldn't- he just shouldn't.