Playing the Game (DNF)

16

George stayed in his room for the rest of the night. Dream was finally ready to get better, but his plans were put on hold. George spoke very few words to Dream the next day, almost as if they switched places. All this made Dream more hesitant to talk to him, it doesn't seem like it would go well given the circumstances. He had convinced himself so much that George would feel the same way he did, but all that went down the drain.

Dream went to bed the next night feeling hopeless and concerned.

The cold front approached and remained around them. Periodic sprinkles of rain scattered throughout the day. Brisk winds and gray clouds flowed through the sky, adding to the already dreary feeling Dream has.

~~~

Dream bolts upright in his bed in a cold sweat, unsure as to what caused it. He glances around his room filled with a pale light from the moon. His stomach feels tied down, making him uneasy.

He gets up slowly and wakes over to his window. A thick fog covers his front lawn and tiny droplets of water hit his window every minute or so. His breath begins to fog the glass. He looks out at the streetlight illuminating an empty street and bouncing off the wet surfaces.

The water reminds him of how much he needs it. His mouth feels dry and he has a slight headache.

He quietly tiptoes down the hallway and into the kitchen. Everything seems in place, but Dream doesn't feel that way. An eerie silence fills the house.

He brushes it off and grabs a glass cup and fills it up with the cool water from his fridge. The time on the microwave reads 3:24 AM. He takes slow sips, staring at the shadows casted around his house, looking for anything that could be causing his uneasiness.

A sudden blast of cool air blows past him. His eyes follow the stream of air to find the source; the sliding glass door. What? He sets his glass down on the countertop and cautiously approaches the door, noticing that it is open a small crack about an inch wide. His heart rate quickens. Surely, he remembered to lock it. His ears begin to ring in panic as he darts to close and lock it. He steps away, taking deep breaths as he peers at his reflection.

His eyes look past him and out to the dark night. A dark blob comes into view, catching his attention. It stands out from the bright white dock railings. His vision focuses as he squints his eyes to reveal the form of a person leans against the railings, hanging their head down to look at the water.

Dream slowly brings his hand back up to the lock. He slowly unlocks it and slides the door back open. Coldness hits him, making him shudder

His feet meet the cold concrete of his patio. He shuffles across and slowly opens the patio door, slowly to avoid the old hinges making noise.

He quietly scoffs. The wet grass seeps into his socks. He presses on, trying his best to ignore it. His hand subconsciously clenches into a fist as he approaches the man. He steps up into the wooden dock.

The man doesn't move. The figure becomes more clear, more recognizable. Dream's hand unclenches.

"George?"

George spins around, clearly startled. He sinks down and exhales a stressed breath and turns to face the water once again. "You scared me."

"What are you doing out here?" Dream quietly questions. He walks up next to George with a concerned gaze.

"I couldn't sleep," George nervously touches the back of his head with the hand next to Dream.

"Why not?"