Your sister was right (dreamnotfound)

Chapter 11

The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the apartment. Dream and George were sat in the living room with a plate full of them and a glass of milk it. The cookies were warm and gooey but not overpoweringly sweet. It was the perfect combination.

"These are just like how my mum used to make them," George commented.

Dream's smile faltered and he took a sip of the milk hiding his face.

"Dream what happened with your parents? You seem to always avoid talking about them," he asked.

"They died in a car crash when I was 12. I grew up for the rest of my childhood at my grandparent's house," Dream whispered his voice shaky. His stomach was in knots and tears brimmed his eyes.

"I am so sorry. I had no idea," apologised George reaching out to comfort him.

"My sister was 5 maybe 6 at the time. It didn't hit her that hard until she got older but she noticed how much it impacted me," Dream continued, "they were arguing about my mum's co-worker when it happened. My dad suspected her of cheating yet she would never even dare consider that."

George listened trying to figure out what he could do. He hugged Dream tightly. It was one of those unforgettable hugs that you experience a few times in a lifetime. It sucked every ounce of pain and agony out of Dream's body and the world around him disappeared. It wasn't the kind of hug that you experience when you haven't seen a friend in a while. It was the kind that told you it's okay, I know how much you have been through but I'm here for you. It could help soothe anything. Both of them clung to each other for dear life. It was nice being in the arms of another. Sometimes just having someone there was enough.

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George stared into the emptiness of his bedroom ceiling. The pair had mutually agreed not to take it too quickly and George had gone back to his own apartment for the night. Sleeping in a double bed was pretty disappointing if its occupied by only one. The sheets were icy and tangled around his body somehow getting tighter every time he moved. He seemed to be suffocating but it was just loneliness. George had never realised how much he had needed someone else. Eventually he drifted off with his arms wrapped around his body similar to if he was hugging himself.

Dream tossed and turned about trying to fall asleep. It had been years since he wasn't sleeping alone but last night changed that. Yet for some reason he felt more alone than he had in years.

Until a year after his parents death, his sister would clamber into his bed at some point during the night. Before she would go to her parents room but due to the incident it wasn't possible. Their grandparents wouldn't dare let her yet Dream had a soft spot. As much as he complained and hid it, he secretly was glad that she came along all those nights. It meant that he wasn't left alone. It helped numb the pain and made that little difference. On the anniversary night he decided it was finally time to let go. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever so when Drista came alone he sent her away. Drista never tried again. It was no use.

All of Dream's previous partners had never stayed over. Dream always made up some excuse and somehow he had made it through the rest of his life always sleeping alone. Something about it was so personal and deeply rooted to his parent's death that he couldn't bring himself to ever break the cycle. George broke that cycle. Part of Dream was happy that it was George that broke the cycle. George was perfect in every way. George understood everything and made it all better. George wasn't there. He was a few rooms away most likely asleep. Unaware of the impact he had made on Dream.

Dream lied there his muscles tensed and his mind disturbed with conflicting thoughts. While the rest of the world was embracing their dreams, he was stuck being tortured by his inability to rest. At some point Dream fell asleep because several times throughout the night he woke up in a cold sweat clutching a non-existent person.

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The cornflakes turned to a flavourless mush in George's mouth. His measly breakfast of cornflakes and toast was a downgrade to say the least compared to what he had the day before. Dream had a knack for cooking whereas George had burnt his toast this morning. He scraped the burnt pieces off making do with what he had but it was still disappointing.

George poured himself a tall glass of orange juice hoping that it would help ease the dry toast. A sharp pain rose from his chest sending the glass in his hand crashing to the floor. Agony poured through his body for a couple of seconds leaving him a statue. Sticky juice spilled everywhere but the glass stayed intact. Indigestion of some sort? George knew he was a bad chef but this was a surprise to him. He hurriedly mopped up the mess cursing every few seconds because of his clumsiness. All he wanted was just a drink but he had to find a way to ruin it.

Dream had got around four hours of sleep that past night. His bedsheets had become twisted in a corner while Dream lay there motionless. His hair stood on end from the cold but he didn't bother to reach for the sheets. There was no point in trying. Sunlight was spilling in from the window and birds could be heard getting restless.

He scrolled through his phone pointlessly when a notification came from out of the blue. It was from his grandparents.

Hey Dream, we were wondering if you are able to look after Drista this weekend?

Yeah sure

Dream stared at his apartment. It was a tip. He would have to deep clean the whole place by Friday to have it suitable for Drista to stay over. He had so much to do in two days with so little time.

"George I have a favour to ask of you. Can you come over to my apartment for a bit?" questioned Dream.

"Yeah I guess just give me a minute to get changed. I'm in my pjs right now," George answered with a puzzled look stuck to his face. What on earth did Dream want him for this time?

"I don't mind." Dream hang up the call and prepared himself to start cleaning. He knew if he downright said that he needed George to come over to help him clean his apartment George would have said no.

George stumbled across the hallway ruffling his hair about to try and get it to look presentable. During the move he had misplaced his brush somewhere and hadn't had the time to find a replacement.

George walked into Dream's apartment wearing a dark blue plaid matching pyjama set. It was slightly oversized for him and draped down from his body. Dream smiled the moment he set his eyes on George. The clothes suited him well.

Dream held a rag in one hand and disinfectant in the other. He pressed them into George's hand with a smirk. George gave Dream a death glare. Cleaning was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

"It's for Drista. I think you should meet her this weekend. I'm sure she will be happy to meet you," mentioned Dream hoping that the information would soften the blow.

George raised his eyebrows and muttered under his breath. Dream really invited him over to help him do chores. The things he did for this man.

The pair were doing surprisingly well at cleaning the apartment and had got through the majority of it without a single problem until George was dusting down the corners of each room.

George let a loud shriek and bolted to the other side of the room. Dream rushed into the room confused to what was going on. He followed George's worried gaze to the corner and crouched down trying to find what was wrong. There was a thick hairy spider sitting in a tangle of webs. Its body was as wide as the width of your pinkie and has beady eyes that stared deep into your soul.

Dream left the room and came back with a glass and piece of paper. He slowly approached the spider once again cautious not to scare it and send it scuttering away. He trapped the spider with the glass and slid the glass over the paper trapping it. Dream teasingly walked over to George pretending to throw it at him.

George jumped at the movement and mouthed, "Fuck you Dream."

Dream took the spider outside the building and let it run free. Both of them switched places cleaning to stop another incident happening.

Wordcount: 1509