Sleepovers // DNF

chapter six

{ Dream's Pov }

I'm in a good mood, so I'm up and about in the kitchen. I'm making a ham and cheese toastie for George. To be honest, I'm still recovering from last night.

It was incredible.

I had no idea how badly I desired George. He is genuinely flawless in every way. Even when he's asleep, which is exactly what he is now, he still manages to look good. It's no surprise his fans are obsessed with him, he's humorous, entertaining, clever and amazing to look at.

Im surprised it's taken me this long to realise how much I like George. I guess with everyone joking about us two being a thing, I belived it was all a joke as-well.

I'm still debating whether or not to tell Sapnap about it. I'm sure he'll be proud, but I'm not sure if George is ready for me to tell anyone.

Wait.

What if George regrets it? What if he just did it because he felt obliged to? Maybe he felt bad for me. He probably didn't want to let me down.

Oh i'm such an idiot!

Despite my thoughts, I continue to make George's breakfast because I want him to know that I care about him. Whether or not what happened last night was a mistake, he's still my best friend, and I still love him.

Love.

That's such a powerful word. As a best friend, of course I love George , but do I love him like that? No, I don't think so. I genuinely hope not. Because if he really does regret everything, it will be far more difficult for me to ignore those feelings.

When his breakfast is done, I set it on the dining table next to a glass of perfectly cold water and return to my bed. I hover over my bed and where he's sleeping. Im terrified to wake him up. What happens with us is largely determined by how he acts this morning.

So, after taking a big breath, I awaken him.

"George, wake up, I've made breakfast for you," I gently shake him.

I take a step back as he begins to open his eyes; I don't want to wake him up with my face all in his.

He yawns and murmurs, "Oh morning."

I return the greeting with a smile.

"Did you say breakfast?" George questions.

As he gets out of bed and stretches, I nod. I realised I hadn't prepared any food for myself, so I grab a glass of orange juice while he walks over to the dinner table.

Before tucking into his breakfast, George shares his thanks. We don't say anything after that. I'm afraid to bring up last night, and I'm sure he is as well. So I turn on the television in the hopes of breaking the awkward silence.

"Is there anything you'd like to watch?" As I look over to George, I query.

As he says no, he keeps his head down.

For fuck sake. He's trying to avoid eye contact.

I turn on 'Friends,' a show that both of us enjoy.

I eventually pluck up the courage to speak about what happened last night.

"So, George, about last night-"

George coughs before taking the last bite of his meal and taking his plate to the sink.
He is deafeningly silent.

"I apologise if you felt pressured to do that. I'm incredibly sorry; I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"No." George responds.