The Wedding //dnf

17

Something cold was pressed to George's face, stirring him from his sleep.

He blinked his eyes open lazily to see someone standing over him. It was Dream, his blonde hair softly falling in front of his face while he pressed his lips in clear worry, hand pressing gently on George's forehead.

"You don't look good George."

"You think?"

George couldn't help but be snarky. He tended to get snarky when he was sick and had a distinct lack of sleep.

"You promised you'd call," Dream chided. He almost sounded... angry? "If things got worse you promised you'd call."

"I fell asleep on the couch watching TV," George croaked, rolling his eyes. "It wasn't my fault, I wasn't even conscious to contact you!"

"That's not a good enough excuse George," Dream said softly, shaking his head. 

"Whatever," George rolled his eyes. "Just let me sleep."

"No."

George frowned. "I'm sick? Shouldn't you let the poor, sick man have his rest?"

"If things are worse then we should go to the doctor."

"Don't be stupid Dream. I don't need to go to the doctors."

"You do and you will."

"Shut up!" George groaned, burying himself deeper under the covers. "I'll sleep it off."

Dream was silent for a moment, and George could practically hear the cogs turning in his brain. He tried not to listen to Dream's short breaths or look at the man.

Thankfully, his sickness was mostly overriding his crush for now. Mostly.

George had been resisting the urge to feverishly message Sapnap, spilling all his feelings and begging for help on how to repress his stupid crush. He figured Sapnap mostly already knew, so it wouldn't be much of a confession.

But he also had a feeling Sapnap would be as lost on what to do as he was.

It was hopeless. The whole thing felt so hopeless. It was days like these when George wondered if he should quit streaming, move back to London and delete Discord. He wondered what his friends would think if he cut off all communication.

If he got a job coding and never streamed again.

It was a strange thought, but a thrilling one. Something in him craved leaving everything behind and starting anew. A fresh start.

A new beginning far far away from the blonde boy who had his heart in a vice grip. The one who would never be able to see George as anything more than his best friend.

The thought sobered him from his sick stupor.

"Okay, we'll stay here. Just please George, even if it gets a little worse-"

"I'll tell you, I know," George sighed.

"Here, let me get you some water."

"But I'm not thirsty."

"Too bad."

Before George knew it, a water glass was being forced into his hand, forcing him to sit up and take small sips. Strangely he did feel a bit better afterwards, not that he'd admit that to Dream.

George shivered.

"Let me get you some more blankets and stuff. All you have is this thin decorative one," Dream noticed, standing to his feet.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure where you kept the thicker ones," George admitted guiltily.

"George! I made you promise to call or at least text me!"