A/N
Ew A/Ns amirite? I'll keep this short.
THANK YOU, THANK YOU
T H A N K Y O U FOR CHOOSING TO READ THIS BOOK AKJGFJHFSBNJDThe fact that you took the time to read this, whoever you are, makes my day. I worked so hard on this, and I appreciate yall merely reading this. Hallelujah.
CW/TW: some swearing; mentions of death.
Those warnings are for the entire book. It's not gonna happen, like, EVERY chapter. It's just that I won't give warnings before they happen, so please don't read this if you're sensitive to those. I don't want y'all to feel uncomfy. D:
Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story. :)
------
George watched droplets trickling down his umbrella as he closed it, noticing how the rain turned into a light sprinkle, specks of water barely dotting his pale skin.
He slung the folded umbrella on his wrist and adjusted the paper bag full of warm bread tucked under his arm. Mornings like these were refreshing, especially during soft rainy days like these. It felt like it rained every second of every day, and George was quite frankly sick of it. He hated getting drenched or the feeling of getting his skin wet, but this time, he didn't mind it as much. He only ever took strolls every other week, so he decided that on this day, he would relish the cool, gray atmosphere, the lush, earthy scent, and water droplets that clung onto every surface, shimmering as the sun's soft rays brushed them.
George glanced at his wristwatch and noticed how more and more people showed up to and fro buildings, walking with him as it neared 7 AM. He noticed how almost everyone around him wore varying shades of green. Or at least he thought or heard it was green. He couldn't know for sure. It wasn't his fault that he was colorblind.
He's been in this city a few times and he noticed that, here, it was common for people to wear green all the time. He tried to ignore it, but the progressively thickening crowd made him anxious. Seeing as he was wearing a light blue jacket, contrasting to all the (presumably) green hues surrounding him gave him that feeling that he didn't belong.
He sped up his pace ever so slightly, forgetting about enjoying the rain and shit. He just wanted to get back home now.
No wonder he barely took walks.
George got farther and farther away from the green-infested place. Eventually, he neared an old bus stop on his way home. Whenever he gets here from that peculiar city, he always declares that he is halfway home, to his relief.
Tired, he decided to sit on a bench by the bus stop. And there, beside him, was a boy.
Despite seeing green everywhere, it reminded George of this boy.
The boy was always on this bench, looking like he's waiting for a bus that would never arrive. George didn't know anything about him. He observed that he always wore this presumably bright green hoodie, like everyone else in the city, the hood covering his head. It didn't help that the boy's head was constantly down.
George always passed by this place when he needed to go somewhere. And that boy seemed to hang around here all the time, drenched in rain. He figured that it didn't bother this boy. Green-hoodie-man was here, no matter how rainy it was.
George never spoke to this strange boy. Not a single word, even though he had passed this place several other times and had every chance to do so. He didn't have any reason to. Though this was the nearest he had ever gotten to the boy, he didn't bother striking up a conversation, nor do anything that has to do with the boy.
George opened his umbrella when the rain started pouring down again. His body seemed to betray his thoughts from earlier as he started holding the umbrella slightly closer to the boy.
The boy seemed to notice how beads of water stopped tapping his back, sitting up as if he was broken out of a trance, scanning his surroundings until he spotted George next to him.
George was baffled when the man faced him. That is if it could call it that. His face was completely obscured by a circular mask with a derpy smiley face drawn on it.
How does he even see through that?
"Um," The boy said, dragging the word out and his voice quite low. George couldn't see his face, but he could tell that the boy was somewhat uncomfortable.
"Hi," George started. "I'm George,"
"Dream." The boy simply answered, fiddling with his gloved hands.
There was a moment of silence between them. George felt that he needed to speak more. He contemplated silently, eventually deciding to keep quiet.
"So, what are you doing here?" Dream said carefully.
"I just needed a break from my walk," George replied. "Why do you stay here? In the rain?"
Dream shrugged. "I dunno, I just do," Then, he glanced at the umbrella. "This is nice for a change, though,"
George raised an eyebrow. For a change? Does this guy have a thing for sitting in the rain and getting himself wet?
Deciding it would be rude to say that out loud, instead, he asked, "Are you from here?"
Dream shifted, partially making his body face George, "I thought it would be obvious," then gestured somewhere in the middle of his face down to the hem of his distinctive hoodie.
"Oh. I don't go to this city that much," George said. "Is that green?"
Dream tilted his head, glancing at his hoodie, then back at George. George, realizing what he had said, immediately adding, "I'm colorblind."
"Oh. Sorry. And yeah, it is green,"
"There's nothing to be sorry about. And thanks." George smiled. "Is it, like, a requirement for you guys to wear green all the time?"
Dream stopped, seemingly thinking. "I guess you could say that," Dream shrugged. "I mean, you can wear other colors there, we just prefer green." He then added, "How about you, where are you from?"
"The town further down there." George gestured over Dream's shoulder. "We don't wear the same colors there,"
Dream laughed, George smiled. Then and there, they had started to converse.
George had immediately warmed up to Dream. They shared various interests such as coding and playing video games (Minecraft in particular). George also learned that Dream moved from Florida to London, living in an apartment with his cat, Patches. He was also incredibly passionate about social media, explaining algorithms and strategies like there was no tomorrow. They couldn't run out of things to talk about. George had felt like they had known each other for ages.
Though, there were things Dream seemed to avoid answering. Like why he wears a mask or why he stays on the very bench they were sitting on all day. When George brings it up, Dream usually answers as vague as he possibly could. George didn't mind when he did though. Those must've been sensitive topics to the green man, and George didn't want to pry if Dream was uncomfortable.
Eventually, the sun had begun to set, and George realized how long they had been there.
"It's getting late," George glanced at his wristwatch. "I should go home,"
"Okay." Dream nodded, standing up. "It was nice meeting you, George. I had fun talking with you,"
"Yeah. Same goes to you," George smiled, grabbing his things and getting up as well.
The two bade each other goodbye and walked in opposite directions.
YOU ARE READING
Gentle Sprinkling [Dreamnotfound]
Fanfiction(Discontinued. But theres a summary of how it ends on the last chapter.) Behind the simplest mask was complexity. George had to find out the hard way. --- George befriends a mysterious man, Dream. The said man always seems to sit alone in this desol...