Mark My Words || DNF Soulmate AU

Chapter 29

"Dream?"

"George?"

"Why do you always do this thing where you respond to someone the same way they talk to you?"

"What?"

"Like what you just did. I called you by your name and you responded with mine. Or for donos. When they say your name in all-caps you shout theirs too."

"I don't know, it just makes sense."

"Hm."

The living room is silent as their conversation drifts away into nothingness. Everything is dark, and the only thing Dream can hear are the crickets outside and the occasional rustling of his sleeping bag placed next to the couch.

Eventually, after much debate, the two decided that the best way for them to spend the night close together, but not so close that it'll cause awkwardness, was for someone to sleep on the couch and the other person to sleep in Dream's old sleeping bag on the floor.

It was extremely ridiculous, two grown men in a giant house with plenty of beds instead choosing to sleep in the most uncomfortable ways manageable. Then again, Dream and George have always set themselves apart from other grown men. Sometimes companionship was worth the cramped spaces and the uncomfortable sensation of hard floors against your back all night long.

The two have already been chatting for what feels like hours, the gentle glow of the night not being a good indicator of the passage of time, and still Dream feels only brushes of sleep that disappear with each blink. George, on the other hand, has been slowly descending into what can best be characterized as delirium. He's not quite fully there yet, but Dream can tell he's on the cusp of completely giving up.

"Do you like it here so far?" Dream whispers to George, though in an attempt to make himself audible it sounds less like whispering and more like he's straining his voice.

"Dream, it's my second night here," George's smile shapes his words even as he faceplants into the pillow and muffles his voice.

"Wait, did I even give you a house tour?" The disbelief is evident in Dream's voice, and he even returns to his normal volume of speaking.

"Nope," George pops the "P" sound at the end, "It took me thirty minutes to find your room today."

"It did not, you're ridiculous," Dream rebukes, trying to arrange his limbs in a comfortable position inside the confines of the sleeping bag, "It only took 30 minutes because you got distracted by Patches."

"I bet you get distracted by Patches too," George's rebuttal is nonsensical and barely coheres to the argument, and Dream knows then that he's slipping into delirium.

"I'll have to show you the pool sometime," Dream says in an attempt to continue their house tour conversation, "We can have a hot tub stream."

"Oh, right," comes George's unimpressed reply, "Forgot that you're rich."

"That's not even a rich-person thing!" it's getting a little stuffy in the bag and Dream pulls his arms out to cool off a little, "Everyone in this area has a pool."

"Oh, so just an American thing," George sounds even less impressed now.

"Not even, it's like a Floridian thing," Dream explains.

"A Floridian thing," George's tone borders on disgust, and Dream resists the urge to pull out some insults about the British.

"Don't sound so unhappy about it," Dream stretches his arms over his head, "The hot tub is actually sort of nice."