+to build a home+ // dnf

7

As the snow came back, it was obvious to even the oblivious that Christmas was coming. The nearby housing and shops had lights decorating them, wreaths placed on every dorm door. No one quite knew if that was a prank or not, but everyone kept them.

The last day of the term was Wednesday. George slid into his regular seat in English class. The professor, who was usually strict on talking and how to act in class was definitely more lenient. The students couldn't tell if it was the Christmas spirit or the spirit sitting on her desk.

"Wouldn't it be against some sort of rule for her to be drinking during a lesson?" Dream muttered, laughing slightly.

"Probably, but that leaves some time for relaxation." George leans back in his chair, stretching. "You going home for Christmas?"

Dream really wanted to avoid this question, but he answered anyway. "Nah, I'm staying here. Are you going home?"

"Have to, think my mum would have a fit or something if I didn't go." He shook his head with a shallow chuckle.

"Fair enough." This was the first time they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Normally, it was quite a nice silence but this one was different. Dream turned away, writing something George couldn't see properly.

It was nothing to Dream. Just poetry. He didn't think about what he was writing, it was more of a distraction, something to occupy him.

Days went by until Christmas arrived. Dream and George hadn't had the chance to talk since their awkward English class.

"I'll see you after Christmas, Sap." Dream patted him on the shoulder as the turned to go, dragging his bag.

"See ya, don't get too lonely." Sapnap closed the door.

"Bye, Aleric." George said to his friend. They both had to go the same way and walked together. He climbed into his parents car. Although he was going home, he felt he was leaving home.

In the next few days, Christmas came. George was now sitting at a table with extended family, not listening to the chatter that filled his ears.

"So, George. Any women catch your eye?" His loud aunt called across the table, getting everyone's attention.

"Not as yet." He answers shortly.

"Come on Georgie!" She pushes, "there has to be someone you like being with. You can't be alone forever!"

George thought about Dream. "Will you be quiet? I've got ages! I'll find someone eventually I'm just too caught up in work."

"Women like a man who will give them time. Don't work yourself too hard." His father clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him even more angry.

"Sure, dad." He muttered, finishing his food as fast as he could, leaving the table at the chance he could get permission.

He was fuming by the time he got back to his room. He wasn't sure why, but he hated the noise and the questions. They could never leave him alone for a second. He just wanted a moment to think without someone picking at something, whether it's the speed he eats or random things about his appearance.

As if proving his point, someone knocked at the door.

"Georgie!" The nasally voice of his aunt called in.

"Yes, Auntie?" He dragged open the door.

Dream lay on his bed. Bored out of his head he pulled out his notebook. It was old and tattered, much like all his other belongings - he used it when he felt creative, he wrote a lot in there. Pulling open the leather binding, he flipped to his most recent page. It was the poem he wrote during his last English lesson.

He hadn't taken in what he was writing, but now he read over it, he knew who it was about. George. Reading it, he realised he really liked this poem. It was his best. He was desperate to share it with someone.

There were issues with that idea. Firstly, no one he knew stayed at school. Secondly, what did this mean? Would someone misconstrue it and assume he loved George? He decided this poem was for himself. He felt burnt out. Even though he really wanted to write something to cure his boredom, he couldn't think of anything. He wanted Sapnap back, he was always interesting to talk to. Always had a story to tell, despite Dream knowing most of them were probably exaggerated.

George's aunt finally departed from his room. Now he had been given a task. He had to clean the wrapping paper from the living room. It wasn't a hard task, but he knew someone would want to talk to him. He picked it up piece by piece, throwing it in a plastic bag. He couldn't wait for Christmas to be over so he could go home. Truly home.

Dream wished he went home. Although he didn't want to see his mother, he had received a letter from his sister. She asked why he didn't come home and said she wanted to see him. He felt like he let her down, his mother didn't give any more attention to his sister than himself. He wanted to be there for her. Now he let her down. He wanted his friends back. He wanted George back to talk about boats and things that made him happy. He wanted to listen to George talk about what he liked. Dream regretted how he left things, he could have at least said goodbye. Would that have been weird?