Love Bites

Chapter 7: Healing Wounds

warning: homophobic parents, panic attack

What was that?

The air had never felt so suffocating before. The bright blanket of stars in the sky hang above George as he remains on the roof, finding that he can't will himself. He wonders that if the stars could speak, if they would be making fun of him for what just happened. The hill his roof overlooks sits motionless, it's likely just struck midnight at this point. They'd sat there for an hour before...the thing happened. George had hoped that the silence for the first half-hour would solve their problems, and that it would somehow communicate that George may be confused by Dream sometimes, he just wanted to be near him.

Honestly, that would be enough communication to carry him for a long time.

Just as he thought he had Dream figured out that he really did like George in the way he liked Dream, the idiot had to go and do something again to throw him off track.

So... did Dream change his mind? Or maybe he just wants to flirt, but doesn't actually want anything from him? Is that why he backed away?

Did I do something to mess it up? Does he hate me now?

George gasps faintly at a realization. Is he going to leave? Is that what he's doing right now?

He sits up, nearly slipping on the roof's incline as he scrambles to throw open the trap door and practically trips down the ladder's steps as he goes back inside, shutting out the night.

He turns and is relieved to see the blonde on the couch, his face in his hands with dirty blond strands falling over his fingers.

"Dream." George says, voice soft.

Dream's head snaps up.

George opens his mouth to say something, but is promptly interrupted.

"Do you want to go somewhere?"

"I- What?" George asks, puzzled. His accent seeps through.

"I just- it's nice out, and... I was wondering if you wanted to go out for a bit."

"It's very late." George pointed out, not unkindly.

"I know that I've been a little... unfair. Let me make it up to you. I-I'm not very good with being a better person, so I was thinking I could just show you."

Let me make it up to you. Was this for pity, or was this because he regrets pulling away? Would it only rub salt into the wound to be alone with him after that? Maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea, because clearly, there's something wrong. And it might be George that's what's wrong.

But who would George have to talk to everyday again? Sapnap, yeah, he wouldn't mind that after he gets home from work. But Sapnap was...Sapnap. While Dream, Dream was different. He wasn't just someone to talk to, he had stories to tell, layers and layers of emotion to him that George had hardly begun to surface and every look into Dream only brings George closer. He was confusing, scary sometimes, but...

George doesn't want to be alone anymore.

Like it or not, he needs Dream now.

And if Dream is still here, maybe he needs George, too.

He musters up the courage to speak again, and walks over to offer a nervous hand. "I'm sorry." Dream takes his hand, fingers brushing over his smaller palm as if he's made of thin ice, and looks up at him with an incredulous expression.

"What? Why- Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything." He stands, reminding them of their height difference. "I should be the one apologizing, George."