Category Four //dnf//

1.2

George huddled himself in the bed, pushing his head to the pillow harshly.

"Was he high.? What..?" His thoughts stuttered, he was shocked.

Terrified.

---

Dream stood there, back hard against the wall. His knuckles twitched with pain, and he sniffed blood up his nose.

'Did I just yell at him like that.?' He thought. A small confusion faltered him down the narrow, steep stairs.

The room was small and dingy as always. He dropped his gun and threw his knife on the desk, ripping his gloves off. He huffed.

"I'll say sorry tomorrow. Right now I'm tired. God why was he up at two am?"

He continued to think as he walked back upstairs, and to the bathroom. He checked his bloodied, and horrid self. He rubbed his eyes.

"God." Dream licked his teeth, and washed his hands. He looked at his wrist, which had a small bruise laid across it. He moved it slightly, around in a small circle. He punched the light off, and walked to his room without any more thoughts.

---

George eventually got to a sleep, still with tears dried stuck to his cheeks throughout the night. A horrible nightmare woke him in the morning. He recalled.

A nightmare unknowing that it would come true. Sexual tension laid between him and Dream, he knew it. He never wished action upon it though...

Dream walked through the door as the sun was beginning to set. He walked to George's room, greeting him.

He seemed loopy, and his walking stuttering. A soft, but forceful touch from Dream. George looked to him, and then felt Dream on top of him. Dream laid on top of him, whispering sweet nothing to him.

He called out, saying nothing with his mouth open. Water surrounded him, slowly drowning him as Dream bit his neck, and moved his hands close to his chest. George tried getting out of his tough grasp.

"Please.." he called out. Dream ignored his 'ignorant' requests and continued deeper, harsher.

Honey drips and acid.

George laid there, anchored as Dream helped himself to every last bit of him, opening his stomach, and touching his insides. His screams were silenced by Dream's hand. His body trembled as Dream let him go.

A pity.

A horrible pity.

George couldn't help himself.

...That's when he woke in tears.

He felt himself, his small frame shaking. He blinked several times to ensure his safety. Each blink brought more tears. Light made its way through the blinds, and the clock hit ten. He shook his head, and jumped out of the bed.

"Shit... What the fuck was that, Dream.?" he thought, looking at himself in the full length mirror in the corner.

He checked his neck, and shoulders. Nothing but faint freckles were plastered on his pale skin.

He sighed, and he was out the door. He patted his eyes with Dream's hoodie sleeve. He walked to the living room. Dream stood there, doing the most mundane task one could do after such an eventful night. He turned to George, who was standing there with his mouth open slightly.

"What?" He asked. George smiled, and hid his laughter. Dream chuckled.

"What?" He asked.

"Your dusting-" George asked, finally laughing.