Revenge

Chapter 12

With Dream's hand still caught around his wrist, George looked down so their eyes could meet.

"Don't leave."

The words were spoken quietly, but George could hear so much of the person he used to know in just those two little words. It made him stay frozen where he stood, and he felt himself nodding slowly before he could even consider what he was doing.

Dream almost looked relieved, and George felt himself relax at the sight of it. He didn't care if it was just Dream giving him false hope again, he missed seeing this side of him. And even though he told himself differently, he knew he'd always stick around if it meant he'd get to see Dream like this even once in a while.

Dream was still holding him by the wrist, and he gently tugged George closer until they were sharing the same space again. He was still sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and George looked down at him as he stepped forward. He didn't say anything as Dream's hands moved to his waist, but his breath caught in his lungs as warm hands slid over the fabric of his shirt and fingers tangled into the fabric to pull him closer still.

George stumbled forward, and he looked down to see Dream close his eyes and rest his forehead against his stomach. It made George's body warm, he had missed this type of closeness more than he could put into words. He didn't want to let himself overthink it, and he let the quiet admission tumble out of his mouth, "I miss you, Dream."

The words made him feel far too vulnerable, but because it was Dream, he couldn't seem to make himself care.

Dream tipped his head back to look at George, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeated the words back, "you miss me? I'm right here, George."

"You are," George responded with a quiet exhale, feeling the all too familiar sting of tears, "but not really."

He couldn't explain any further than that, but he knew that Dream knew exactly what he was talking about. The distance between them wasn't just one sided, they both knew that much.

"I'm right here, George," Dream repeated the words, but his voice was softer this time around. George's hands moved to push golden hair out of Dream's face, and Dream turned into the touch almost immediately. His eyes turned up towards George, and although he seemed sincere, it still didn't feel right.

"You're not," George muttered back, "you're so distant, Dream. You won't talk to me, but I need you to at least try and meet me halfway."

Dream's eyes searched George's face carefully, as if he were looking for what type of response George was expecting from him. But finding nothing, he only shook his head slightly and let his eyes drop away. George had expected as much, but he still let out a disappointed sigh as he stepped away enough for Dream's hands to fall back into his own space.

"I'm not going to keep playing these stupid games with you, Dream. Either you still care about me or you don't, it's not difficult."

Dream's eyes lifted at the words, and a pained look crossed over his face for the briefest moment. But George had already caught it, and he felt his chest tighten when no response came.

"You don't care about me, do you?" George whispered the question as a few tears slid down his cheeks. Dream was still watching him, and his brow was furrowed as he shook his head and muttered back, "I didn't say that, George."

George scoffed, because Dream's inability to just say the words aloud was answer enough. Dream didn't care, he was just playing some twisted game with George.

Suddenly, George's body was running hot with anger. He felt so tired of everything, and he was so sick of trying to figure out what Dream wanted from him. Dream seemed to sense the sudden change, and he stood up but stayed rooted to the spot as he began, "George, I didn't-"