Honeydew || dnf

Melligine

Melligine- the Latin translation of honeydew

(probably lmao, I don't know latin)

TW/CW: eating disorder/anorexia, brief mention of fainting, lots of mentions of food (this whole chapter is food-based)

Previously...

"Sorry. Um..." He shook his head. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," Dream murmured. "Just... let us help you. Let me help you." George took a shaky breath, nodding.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Okay."

3rd Person P.O.V.

"Sorry, guys. I really can't miss this," Wilbur shrugged, frowning. "It's not something I can reschedule."

"It's okay," Dream insisted, nodding at George for reassurance. "We'll be fine. Have fun at your gig, alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Wilbur smiled, nodding. "I'll be back in a few weeks." Wilbur was going on tour, him and his band serving as the opening act for another band's European tour. He had been looking forward to this for months now, and it happened to fall on a bad time. Still, it was far too late for him to refuse the offer.

"Bye..." George mumbled. He watched, emotionless, as Wilbur left, waving to them as he walked out toward the sidewalk. Dream closed the door, turning to George.

"Can we try to have dinner today?" He asked gently. George pressed his lips into a thin line, brows furrowing.

"Dream..."

"C'mon, George, you need to try," Dream insisted. "All I ask is that you try." George hesitated, sighing before crossing his arms with a shrug. Dream lit up, grinning. "Thank you!" He exclaimed. "Oh, oh, I can make something!" Dream bounded away, leaving a very uncomfortable George. He grimaced, digging his fingers into his arms. There's no way this would end well.

When George finally decided to join Dream in the kitchen, he found the blond going through his fridge and pantry. George cringed, opening his mouth to remind Dream that he didn't have any food. Before he could say anything, however, Dream stood up straight, holding a large round thing in his hands.

"What even is this?" He mumbled, setting it on the counter. George sat across from where Dream was standing, both of them staring at the strange object. "I swear, Wilbur doesn't know how to go grocery shopping!" Dream threw his hands up into the air, huffing softly. He grabbed a large knife, slicing the object down the middle. The two halves split apart, revealing a green melon.

"No, wait. I'm stupid!" Dream laughed, shaking his head. At George's confused glance, he elaborated. "It's a honeydew melon. I don't know why Wilbur decided to buy it, but..." He shrugged. "Might as well have some."

"I've never had honeydew melon," George mumbled, eyeing the fruit suspiciously.

"Ever had cantaloupe?"

"Yeah...?"

"It's better than cantaloupe," Dream explained. "The hierarchy of melons goes watermelon, honeydew, and then cantaloupe at the bottom. All taste good, but cantaloupe is easily the worst of the three." George blinked a few times, looking confused. "Here, I'll cut some up and you can try it."

"Dream..." George warned, scrunching his shoulders and wrinkling his nose.

"George, you need to have something. I'm not going to force you to eat a full three-course meal, but I'd really like it if you at least ate something," Dream reasoned. "And honeydew melon is a good place to start. It's a fruit, so it's pretty healthy." He watched George carefully, practically holding his breath while he awaited the brunette's response.

"Okay," George breathed. "Fine. I'll... try it." Dream grinned, grabbing one-half of the melon to start cutting up. In a split-second decision, he cut the melon into eighths, setting aside seven of the pieces for another day. Dream cut the melon up into small pieces to make things easier (after George had fainted for the second time, he decided it was time to do some research).

"Alright." Dream grabbed a large bowl, putting the honeydew melon chunks in it. The bowl was way too big for the amount of fruit actually in it, but Dream had chosen that on purpose. Less intimidating. He passed the bowl across the counter to George, handing him a fork. "For you."

George stayed silent, staring at the bowl of honeydew melon. He looked up at Dream, only to find the blond turned back toward the fridge, pulling out a package of raw chicken, cream, and cheese. He also set a box of pasta on the counter, working to prepare even more food.

"Have you tried some yet?" Dream questioned, pausing what he was doing to talk to George. The brunette swallowed thickly, shaking his head. Just looking at food made him feel nauseous.

"I don't think I can do it," he mumbled, pushing the bowl away. Dream's face fell, sadness crowding his eyes.

"Alright. How about we try something else, okay?" Dream pressed his lips into a thin smile. "Why don't you go sit in the other room for a little while? Take your bowl with you," Dream instructed. "I'll be in here if you need me. I'm cooking chicken Alfredo for dinner."

"I can't-"

"You don't have to have any," Dream insisted. "I'm making myself dinner. If you want some, I'd be happy to share." Dream waved one hand, brushing it off. "But all I ask of you is that you try some honeydew melon. You don't have to do anything more than that tonight." George glanced down at the bowl, then back up at Dream.

"Okay..." He sighed. George grabbed the bowl and fork, slipping out of the kitchen and toward the living room. He settled down onto the couch, curled up in the corner spot. George turned the TV on, letting it play some random show. His main focus was on the bowl in his hands, however.

George sighed, bringing his knees up to help balance the bowl. He held the fork, balanced precariously between his fingers. His hand shook, whether it was from nerves or from his... condition, he wasn't sure. He let the fork drop into the bowl, setting the bowl down next to him on the couch. With a groan, George leaned his head back, pressing his hands against his face.

This sucked.

~

From the kitchen, Dream occasionally shot glances toward the living room, curious about how George was doing but also knowing he'd really better not bother the brunette. Not right now.

Sighing, Dream stirred the pasta, turning his attention to the cheese sauce. He added some extra pepper to the pan, mixing it in as the cheese and cream combination started to thicken. The chicken was also cooking nicely, large chunks of chicken breast sizzling in the pan. It was going to be great!

Still, Dream couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry. George was clearly struggling to eat the melon, and he couldn't do much to help.

Honestly, Dream was nervous. Now that Wilbur had left, he was left on his own to help George... and no amount of internet research could prepare him for that. Sure, he was a little more knowledgeable in caring for someone with an eating disorder, but... he was so afraid of messing up, of accidentally saying the wrong thing and making George upset. He was afraid that he would lose George entirely. Dream couldn't bear to think about it.

He just hoped he would be able to make things better. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if he couldn't.

there was supposed to be more to this chapter but it's already long so the parts I didn't get to will just be added to the next part :3