Up the Hill, Under the Stars

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Over the weekend alone, my sleep schedule became as broken as Dream's. We'd stay up all night and go to sleep around five or six. It depended on the night.

Usually we'd just stay up talking. We'd talk about whatever came to mind. Sometimes nothing in particular. And we'd do that until I inevitably fell asleep first.

But one night I found out where he went at night. He went outside. He drove around the neighborhood. He went to parks and just laid on the hills staring up at the stars. He thinks, and this is in his words, "There's a sense of beauty in the darkest hours."

The stars never interested me. They were just balls of gas just like the sun. The most I'd bother to see of the night sky would be the moon. But the moon was Dream's least favorite part. He preferred nights the moon didn't show at all.

It was two-thirty, and I could hear the soft clatter of him washing the dishes downstairs. Although it was mostly drowned out by Sapnap's snoring. This was usually around the time Dream left. There was a meow, and I lifted my head to see Patches spinning around in a circle before hopping off the bed and wandering out the wide open door. This night, I decided to follow.

The small tabby cat led me down the stairs and into the kitchen with a small meow that instantly caught the tall boy's attention. Yet his eyes shot right to me as if he knew I was close behind.

"What are you doing?" He asked, shutting off the faucet and reaching for a paper towel.

"You completely destroyed my sleep schedule," I said.

"Oh, sorry," He smiled softly.

"Are you going to the park tonight?" I asked, swaying my weight between both my feet.

"Yeah. You wanna come?"

My stomach did a backflip. "Yeah."

His smile widened, "I was just about to leave too."

We slid our shoes on and Dream picked Patches up and rested her into the crook of his arm.

"It's kinda far, but it's got the prettiest view," He said on our way to the car. I sat in the passenger seat, and Dream rested Patches between his legs. He started the car and drove off. Orange streetlights lit the streets and music played faintly in the background. Occasionally, I'd hear Dream hum softly when a song he liked came on. He'd drum his fingers on the steering wheel and would bob his head to the beat.

Everything outside came as a blur as we drove down the desolate street. No other cars were present, and the moment Dream realized, he basically floored it. His car whined as he reached new speeds. He wheezed and cheered, zooming down the freeway.

"George! You're so quiet!" He exclaimed.

"Because I'm mentally writing my will," I replied.

"You'll be fine. I do this every night. Come on! Live a little, George."

He zipped through the lanes like a madman. It was like he was high on caffeine with the way he was driving. The crazy part was, he didn't drink coffee all day.

My heart only stopped pounding against my ribcage when he finally began to slow down. He drove into an empty parking lot of an empty park. There was a playground a ways away, but other than that, it was mainly grass and trees.

"We're here," He said, picking his cat up and exiting the car. I followed suit.

The park was huge. Acres and acres of land of just trees and grass with the occasional picnic tables. There were hills every so often, one of which containing a huge tree so tall I could see it from where I stood. It had to be a mile away. There was a baseball field to the left of where we were. The lights shined blindingly despite nobody being there. Dream grabbed my wrist and led me into the park.

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