Receeding Tides (mcyt)

Chapter 19

Under the stars, Tommy drifted off to sleep as did the others, and in the end, George was the only one left awake. His mind swarmed with silent anxiety as he took in the feeling of a 3-D Dream. His face was cold to the touch, and his fingers practically ice sticks. George warmed them in his own. People always said cold hands warm heart.

At some point during the apocalypse, George realised the person who he cared about most was Dream. To go from talking everyday to extended silence for three long years was a hell no one thought to even think about. He hadn't thought about his other friends as often as he thought about Dream. Even his friends in the Americas.

The first year, George spent surviving through the other Waves and among other survivors both violent and passive. He kept to himself and didn't bother making friends. He was still stuck in the past. There wasn't a day where adrenaline didn't course through George's veins though, and those were the the days where George remembered just how much time had passed. Not a day passed where thoughts of Dream didn't enter his mind. He could be eating a granola bar and think  Hey, this wrapper matches Dream's skin. I hope he isn't actually a green blob.

In the second year, George realised his love for Dream. It was different from the fanfiction love people wrote. It didn't save or melt him. It wasn't a life-altering realisation or an entry to a new world of possibility. He couldn't say it was a learning experience, nor did it fall into any trope either. Enemies to lovers? No, they were never enemies. Strangers at one time but never enemies. Childhood friends? No, George didn't get that lucky. Right person, wrong time? No. There was never a wrong time with Dream.

Just as George accepted his unlabelled love, he began losing hope of ever seeing him. At all. After almost two years, George accepted Dream's more likely death than not. He knew he'd never see him, and that was okay. George had their shared memories to fall back on, but those shared memories became secrets. A part of him still held out hope, but now that Dream was here, George couldn't find words to say.

For a malnourished man, Dream's body was heavy, but George didn't care. His now damp clothes stuck to his skin thanks to Dream's seawatery self, and George had laid his jacket over Dream's upper body to keep him warm. He washed up on shore not wearing a mask, and George wondered where it was or if he even had a mask when he was with Tommy. Damn, Tommy would've seen Dream before him. Regardless if he had the mask or not, George knew Dream would feel more comfortable with it than not.

Before the apocalypse, Dream boasted that he was the hottest person alive. Obviously, George hadn't believed him since he was faceless at the time, but Dream hadn't lied. Maybe it was affection clouding his mind, but George was certain that he was gorgeous.

"Y'know, Dream, I suffered for three years not knowing if you were alive while learning how much I love you, just for your dumb ass to wash up on shore like a whale."

Dream didn't reply, but George continued.

"I kinda hope you don't hear me say this but... I think I love you."

George could almost hear his reply.

You think? Oh come on, George.

"Yeah yeah," he rolled his eyes. "You goofy pixie stick."

Unlike the fanart, Dream was no god amongst men, but to George, he was the most beautiful person to walk the earth. Would he ever say that to his face? No, of course not. But he sure as hell would smile every time Dream laughed.

George poured through memory after memory of him and Dream. Hours of laughing and late night calls. Countless sync schedules. Everything. As cliche as the saying was, Dream could light up a room just by entering. He brought a lighthearted energy even with just his voice and a smile to George's face. A disc in the water reflected the moonlight into George's line of vision.