Current Joys || DNF

11

Fun fact: I'm a foodie. Bet you can't tell

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The sunset is overrated, Dream thinks as he stares out of the open drapes. All those cheesy romantic movies always overused the majesty of sunset to convey intimacy, but to him, the sunrise was just as impactful. The progression from glistening stars embedded into black velvet into lustrous petals of bright pink and gold stretching across the horizon never failed to make his breath catch.

He's jolted out of his thoughts as the blanket over his legs slowly travels toward his left. Dream scowls at the sleeping brunette who was now hidden under the entirety of it. Every damn time. An exasperated smile falls onto his face as he gets up and heads to the bathroom. He brushes his teeth slowly, his eyes closed as he enjoys the silence of the morning.

Dream grabs a fresh set of casual clothes and places them on the rack, stepping into the slowly heating shower. After half an hour of standing under the rain-like water numbly, he climbs out of the shower, the soft white polyester of the bath rug squishing beneath his toes. He decided he was too lazy to towel-dry his hair, instead using the blow-dryer for a few minutes.

That was a mistake, he thinks as he runs a hand through the frizzy mess on top of his head. He runs a comb through it, giving up after a while. Semi-presentable was more than enough. Walking out, he steps back into the bedroom, opening the drapes more and letting light brighten up the room. It's then when he notices erratic movements coming from the left side of the master bed.

Dream wanders over curiously and his eyebrows furrow in worry. George was face down into his pillow, hugging it tightly as he thrashed around, as though the sheets were holding him hostage. "Hey George?" The blonde approaches, pushing his friend's shoulder.

Eyes still closed in sleep, George turns his head allowing Dream to see the few lone tears that streaked his cheeks. "George!" He calls a bit louder. The brunette's eyes quickly shoot open and he inhales large gulps of oxygen as the blonde sits next to him on the bed.

"Sorry. Just a bad dream." George explains with difficulty. His face screws up in discomfort before taking on a forced look of calm. 

The blonde examines his face with concern. "Was it about-"

"No," George lies swiftly. Before he can stop it, a sob makes its way through his throat, contradicting his statement. Everything from the previous night's events seemed to hit him at that moment. He buries his face into his knees in embarrassment, hiding the tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Dream's chest deflated as he watched George cry, the other shielding his face away from him. He wraps his arms around the shorter man's waist and shoulder, making the Brit bring his watery glance up at him. "Hey, it's ok. Come here." He mumbles, letting the other rest against his chest.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." George closes his eyes into the man's shirt, basking in the comfort it brought. It was nice to be held like this, he'll think about the humiliation of crying in front of his best friend later.

"Nothing is wrong with you." Dream wrinkles his forehead, holding the brunette tighter. He wished there was something he could do to fix this. He wished he knew what to say, because right now, he wasn't sure if he was doing the best job. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, keeping his voice quiet. George shakes his head, taking a shuddering breath. His heart races as the blonde drops his chin onto the top of his brown locks.

The brunette comes out of his shirt and holds eye contact, waiting for Dream to let go. The man doesn't however, his gaze traveling across George's face examining the cut in the soft skin of his lip. He abruptly moves his gaze to behind his friend's ear, his mind screaming at him. Be careful. Don't fuck it up.