Gentle Sprinkling [Dreamnotfound]

Ten

"Can we go to the bus stop? Please? I'll tell you everything," Dream explained, voice breaking at each word, quieter than a mouse's little squeak. George's heart ached hearing how vulnerable his friend sounded. At the same time, he yearned for answers, more than ever. The brunette was quite frankly shaken by his peculiar discovery. A large chunk of his trust perished that moment, shamefully more wary of Dream, keeping himself a fair distance away from him.

George got up, anticipating a long and tense walk back to the infamous bus stop. He was deeply upset with his friend. He couldn't help but let his mind be plagued with a particular question—whether or not Dream even trusted him back. He thought that he had been at least somewhat clear that Dream could talk to him, be open with problems, but they oh, so occasionally had moments like those. A completely different side of his brain told him that he was just being unreasonable. He should know that Dream might have his reasons. Sighing at the little war in his head, he began to put one foot in front of the other and took a sheepish glance at the tall man as he did.

Or, at least, where George thought he would be.

Despite pleading to leave just a moment prior, Dream sat still, unmoving from the lonely tree's sympathetic embrace. The branches reached down towards the motionless boy as if trying to comfort him, attempting to caress him. The rich foliage and the sleek vines swayed with the wind around him as the tree's way of cradling the broken boy.

The skies seemed to have grown impatient as the droplets' dance to the earth twisted into a war, the raindrops were soldiers aggressively racing their way downwards, their war cries loud and deafening as countless amounts of them hit the ground all at once. The tree mothering the green boy desperately tried to shield him from the downpour, keep the little soldiers from landing tiny, yet somehow painful hits on him, but to no avail.

George's heart cracked. Seeing Dream slacked against the base of the tree looked like a scene that came straight out of a movie, the part where the character loses everything. George couldn't help but wonder if Dream felt as if he had lost everything at that moment. The pained, green man seemed like he was about to cry, but couldn't, and George merely stood there, unable to figure out why.

What George did figure out though, is that Dream needed someone right now. Someone to be there for him, be there with him. Pushing disturbed thoughts from moments prior to the very back of his mind, George paced towards the boy, his hands fumbling at his umbrella to get it open, reaching down to protect Dream alongside the tree's comfort.

Dream was slumped like he usually was when George found him sitting on the bench. Only, this time, he didn't look up when George's umbrella was over his head.

"I'm so sorry." Dream mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself. George almost didn't hear it over the rain's loud pitter-pattering.

George sat back down next to him, positioning himself almost similar to when they first spoke to each other.

"...What are you sorry about?" George spoke slowly as if choosing his words mid-sentence.

Silence. The permanent smile Dream had on his face looked sad, distant. The poor boy trembled, rubbing his fingers against his palms.

George felt his heartbreak even more and decided not to dwell on it. Perhaps now was not the time to ask anything. He brought the umbrella closer to Dream, paying little to no mind to more rain beginning to wash over his side.

He saw the boy beside him curl into himself, wallowing in self-pity. George swore that he felt his heart completely shatter. He put the umbrella down and held his arms out the softest way he could possibly make the gesture appear. Just when he thought Dream was going to ignore it, the tall boy practically jumped on the smaller, almost making both of them tumble.