Matches In The Rain// DreamNotFound

Chapter 6: Sneaking Around

George abruptly woke up realizing he had not set his alarm before falling asleep last night. He twisted over fumbling for his phone, 3:04 pm.

Oh it's just three. He sighed before rallying back down on his pillow. He began to close his eyes again but was rudely awoken by the growl of his stomach. My stream starts in an hour, and will probably last three at the least... I should probably eat now.

George sat up and slid out of bed slowly making his way to the door of his room.

He leaned an ear against it, holding his breath, and listened.

Silence.

He listened a bit harder. Still silence.

George resumed his breathing as calmly opened his door and tiptoed towards the kitchen, making sure no board under his feet would squeak.

Upon reaching the end of the hallway, he peeped his head out behind the wall separating the hallway from the living room.

He looked at the exact spot where last night's encounter took place and the memory flashed in his head once more.

Ahh. I can never give myself a break can I?

George's body followed his head entering the living room and walked to the wall separating the living room and the kitchen.

The coast is clear. No sightings of Dream.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as made his way to the refrigerator's door.

He opened it and surveyed the top shelf, the bottom, and all the shelves in between.

A bag of tannish/brown circles caught his eye. There was steam fogging up the bag. They were probably made this morning.

It wasn't until he unzipped the bag, that he realized what they were... American style pancakes. Some plain, some with chocolate chips, and some with blueberries. Ooooh, I'll reheat these, I've always wanted to try them anyway.

George grabbed a plate from the shining white cabinets and placed two of each before putting it in the microwave.

Wait. George's finger rested on the 'Start-30sec' button.

I can always hear the microwave from my room...what if he can?

Uhg. I am literally being a four year old right now. Am I- I am actually avoiding Dream ? This is a whole new level. I'm being ridiculous. I just need to forget about my feelings... become emotionless? Yeah that'll do it.

I do not care. George applied the pressure and the microwave buzzed. He walked backwards and leaned against the island behind him. He held his hands against it so he could cross his foot over the other as he waited.

Four. Three. George stood and grabbed the handle. Two. One. George pulled the microwave open before it could sound its alarm.

He pulled out the plate, grabbed the butter and syrup, and spread them on only two pancakes.

George shoved his plate across the island, sliding in the spot he always sat and ate at. He situated himself on the black cushioned stool and grabbed his fork.

I wonder if Dream or Sapnap made these? George raised his fork to his mouth.

George's first bite of American pancakes barely brushed his lips.

There was an echoing "SMACK" and George felt an instantaneous pain as his fork flew out of his grip, across the granite counter, and clinked on the floor.