Poor George//dnf

12

{I rewrote this chapter cause I hated how the original was, have fun besties}

The cold wind nipped on his skin as he roamed around the cold streets of London.

He had been walking for the past five hours or so, just trying to get as far away from his apartment building as possible.

He wouldn't have been able to go back to his own flat in horror of finding the god forsaken Ben there, and he had just left Dream when he had tried to kiss him.

Simply said, he was a mess.

His hair was all messed up, his face was a warm shade of pink due to the cold winds, his whole body near trembling since he was only wearing a hoodie and sweatpants in the worst shoes ever to be outside in.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home so so bad. The only thing he could think of. Home.

So without thinking, he started walking back in the direction of his apartment building, not really knowing where he was going.

He was completely lost, but not. He knew where he was but not where he was supposed to walk to get to his home.

Thankfully he had his phone on him, so he grabbed it from his pocket and turned it on, met with countless notifications from either Ben or Dream, then just a couple random ones from twitter.

He rolled his eyes at the half assed apologies from Ben as he scrolled through what the fuck he had just sent him, leaving the man on read as he closed the app to open maps and typed in the address of his house.

"Oh," he mumbled, seeing that his apartment wasn't much more than thirty minutes away.

And as he walked home, he mindlessly typed Dream's number into the dial pad of his phone, tapping the call button before even thinking about it.

He put the phone up to his ear, and as he heard the beeps signalling that the call had started.

"Hello? George?"

Hearing Dream's raspy and tear strained voice panicked George, his facial expressions dropping as well as his heart.

"George?" Dream mumbled again.

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," George said.

"You called me-"

He hung up.

-------

George left, of course. That seemed to be his only way of dealing with his problems, running away from them.

Dream was curled up in a ball in the corner of his bedroom, mainly because he was sure that george hated him, partly because he basically got rejected for teh second time by the same fuck (george).

Unexpectedly, his phone rang from where he had left it in the living room, causing his head to snap up.

He stood up, having to use the wall to stand up without falling, then went to his living room, grabbed his phone and pressed the 'accept call' button.

"Hello? George?" he said, it was obvious just from the rasp in his voice that he at least had been crying.

There was a short pause. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number," George said.

What?! "You called me-"

Then Dream got cut off by three beeps, telling him the call was over.

He lowered his phone slowly down from his ear, looking at the device with wide, sad eyes before dropping it onto the floor.

He started sobbing again, his knees giving in and causing him to fall down on the floor.

Dream needed to talk to George, it was like he couldn't bear living without talking to the other, even though it was only for this short amount of time.

He picked his phone up from the floor again, unlocked it and opened his phone app and called George back, praying that he would answer.

"What." George said as soon as he answered, his voice completely monotone with a tint of anger in it.

Dream let out a loud sob before slapping his hand over his own mouth. "George, can you please just tell me you don't hate me."

Pause.

That pause was a lot longer than needed.

Finally, George sighed. "I don't hate you, Dream." the older sighed.

"Thank you," Dream said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Dream," George assured, his tone soft. "Can I come to yours? I don't dare going to my own apartment right now because of... yeah."

Dream sniffled, a small laugh escaping past lips even though he didn't know if he was supposed to laugh or not.

"Sorry, didn't mean to laugh," he mumbled.

"It's fine. Anyways, can I?"

"Yeah, sure, just knock or something when you're here."

"I will. Bye, see you in a little," George said, sounding at least a little happier than when Dream had called.

"Mmm, bye," Dream mumbled before hanging up, his whole body relaxing as he lay down on the floor, waiting for George to arrive.

-------

He hesitated before knocking on the door, having to wait for a second while the blonde made his way to his front door.

As he waited, he gazed his eyes over the boring hall until a click from the doorknob, his head snapping to it where Dream now stood.

George's eyes gazed over what he could see of Dream's tear stained face as the blonde stepped aside to let him in, his head hung quite low the whole time so his hair was covering the upper part of his face.

The older took his shoes off in a hurry before grabbing Dream's hand and led him to the younger man's bedroom.

George sat down, his back pushed up to the headboard and let go of the blonde's hand, opening his arms for a hug instead.

A small smile spread across Dream's face as he lay on top of the shorter, laying his head on George's chest and wrapped his arms around the brunette's waist, George tangling Dream's hair up on his fingers.

Barely any words were spoken that evening, they just spent the whole time until they fell asleep enjoying each other's company in silence, hoping that they could stay like this forever.

But good things never last long, do they?

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Word count: 1021

Happy Juneteenth!!