Two Halves (Dreamnotfound)

Chapter Eleven

"What went wrong?"

One moment, he and George were pressed against each other, George's soft hands gently cradling his cheek. The next, George stumbled back with a mixed look of disgust and confusion displayed across his features.

The look of pure guilt George's eyes held as he turned and ran would be permanently etched into Dream's mind. It stabbed into his heart, ripping him to shreds.

It had been around two hours since he'd been left to soak in the rain. Dream gripped his pillow tightly, re-reading the desperate messages he'd sent in an attempt to apologize for whatever he did wrong.

Dream let out a soft whimper, squeezing his eyes shut and allowing new tears to trace the paths of old ones. Drops of water dripped from his hair, soaking into the sheets beneath him. The only thing illuminating the room was his screen, which stung his eyes, but he didn't care.

Glancing at his phone once more, he could barely see the words delivered change to read through his blurred vision.

He forced a shaky sigh and closed out of their messages, grimacing upon seeing his background.

It was of him and George sleeping soundly, snuggling against each other. Despite how much it hurt, a weak, involuntary smile spread across his face.

He clicked his phone off, and his surroundings darkened once more. Fresh tears began welling up as he held an arm over his eyes.

Was it his fault? George was the one who closed the gap between them, but maybe it was a heat of the moment thing. They had been drunk after all.

"That's probably what it was. There's no way he would've reacted like that if he liked me. He did kiss pretty hard though..." Dream's thoughts bounced back and forth as he bit his lip in an attempt to hold back loud sobs.

Maybe Dream shouldn't have kissed back.

"I don't think you've noticed, but in your entire 17 years I've never heard you say anyone's name the way you do him; you sound happy."

He buried his face into his pillow. Why did he have to fall for George, of all people? It wasn't fair, he hadn't meant for this to happen. Sure, he enjoyed every moment he spent with George and would give the world to see his smile, but this is exactly the way he feared it would go.

Wrapping himself tightly in a couple of blankets, Dream allowed the world to slip away, even if it was momentarily.
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Dream slowly opened his eyes, his surroundings a blur. He winced as he sat up, a killer headache beginning to form.

"Mrow?"

Dream's gaze traveled to the small cat resting on his legs. He smiled faintly and reached over to pet Patches. The glaring light flooding in through the window made Dream squint his eyes. Had he really slept the entire night?

The light blue backpack leaning against his tall shelf caught Dream's eye. He fought back tears as he went to pick it up. The overwhelming smell of vanilla and peppermint wafted up towards him. A single tear dripped down his face; it even smelled like him.

He held the backpack away from himself, the sickly scent was bittersweet to him. He knew he couldn't keep it, that would only make the pain worse.

Frowning, Dream dragged himself into the bathroom to at least halfway brush his tousled locks. When his attempt was somewhat successful, he clipped the nearly forgotten mask back on and snatched the backpack. Feeling more insecure than ever, Dream stumbled down the stairs in search of painkillers.
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Hallway across the yard, he stopped. Couldn't he return it some other time?