heart monitors-dreamnotfound

twenty-eight

im really bad at chapter coordination bc im a full-time procrastinator but I think about three more chapters?? don't hold me up to it. 

 I LOVE YOU

The blonde sees George the next day. Not in real life, but in a dream.

It's realistic in a way that frightens Dream. Every aspect of it was too detailed, and it struck a nerve of familiarity that shook Dream's world.

The blonde wakes up on the roof, back leaned against the borders, head leaning against the wall. He knows it's a dream before he takes his first breath. He knows because for once, he doesn't feel the heaviness in his chest, or the ache of his eyes from crying too much.

He knows it's a dream because he doesn't feel sad. He feels as if everything's finally okay, that things that returned to the state it should have been.

He knows that George is there.

The sky is pitch black, and the only light visible is the full moon and its glittering stars that accompany it in the blanket of darkness. A silver glow is cast all over, painting Dream's skin a familiar shade of marble.

"Dream?" a voice rings out into the silence.

This was when the blonde freezes in an instant. He recognizes the voice so much that it scares him. It's the voice he longed to hear, just one more time.

And there it was. Just one more time.

"George?" he asks in a frail voice. Dream turns to the side, the back of his head colliding with the railing. His eyes settle on George, who's sitting a few meters away from the blonde, staring at the space in front of him with a blank look.

The brunette looks the same. The same fluffy brown hair, the same soft eyes, the same freckles that Dream had spent so much time admiring. The moonlight shines on him, highlighting his peaceful expression on his face.

Seeing George underneath the silver glow of the moon is nothing foreign to Dream. The blonde has seen him like this every day, with the window in full view and the lights from outside shining through the glass.

It hurts Dream to see him like this.

The blonde's breath hitches, his back pressing against the wall even more. His hands are shaking, in fact, his whole body seems to tremble as he stares at George.

"You died, George," the blonde whispers, but he knows that George has heard him in the way he flinches. "You're gone, but I'm not."

The ache in Dream's chest returns, and it's so bad that he doesn't know if he can even breathe normally.

"Dream," the brunette responds calmly. "Please."

"I still-" Dream shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "I still don't know why you did what you did, why did you lie to me?"

George is silent. He stares into the night, making no attempt to say anything.

"You lied to me, even when you knew that I would hurt. You could have been honest, George. You knew that I loved you more than I could love anything, you knew that I would have died for you," the blonde says, choking on his words. "And yet you didn't even bother to tell me anything. It doesn't matter that you wrote me stacks of letters, it doesn't matter that you got Wilbur to tell me the things you didn't have the courage to tell me, and it sure doesn't matter that you're seeing me."

"But, I-"

"Shut up!" Dream cries out, even surprising himself. He breathes in deeply before continuing. "Just shut up, George. There is nothing you could tell me that will lead me to forgive you. Ever. I still love you, I would still die for you, but I'll never forgive you for what you did to me." He looks to the side, not realizing that he was crying. "We promised each other, George. Did that not mean anything?"