Torn Souls

22. Love Letters

They had been sat in the window all night, watching as the waning crescent moon rose higher with each massing minute. Refusing to let the night end, neither slept, not daring to yawn.

There was a silence to the apartment, a comfortable one. But it allowed George to be alone in his head with nothing but his thoughts. He thought about the future and whatever it might've held. But his thoughts also decided that silence was not his jam.

"Okay, I don't want to live a boring life, like a 9-5 sit at a desk all day office job. I will jump from the top of this roof before that happens." George scoffed, looking out the window down to the ground that lay 24 stories below.

"Alright, then what do you want to do?" Dream asked him, genuinely curious as to his plans. He shifted in the windowsill beside the Brit, beginning to play with his hands.

"Well," he began excitedly "I don't think I want to live in the city forever. It's comforting as of now, but eventually the noise will drive me mad. I think I would move to the country side. And write books. And sell art. And something else, but I don't remember what it is. Anyways, I think the peace would be nice. I'd have a lovely garden with a nice bench and a pet cat. And I would grow my own vegetables and things like that. And I think I would name the cat Daisy."

As much as Dream tried to listen, his mind wandered off into his own imagination. He wondered how life with George would be if he had lived. They wouldn't be torn apart by anything. They could always be together, and together they would live out George's wonderful plan for the future. He continued to watch his face, noticing a glimmer in his eye and the smile line in his cheeks. Something he hadn't seen before was tear stains that looked almost like brown eyeliner people got when they cried often. It made his heart ache, but he thought it was cool they had matching tear stains. He took notice of George's crimson lips and how even when you can't hear him, you still see his accent.

"Anyways, what were your plans, if you don't mind my asking."

"Being completly honest, I didn't think I would make it to sixteen. So I never made plans. But obviously, I did." He sounded disappointed, but for what George couldn't tell. "And then I graduated high school and, just didn't have plans- well technically I did but y'know..."

"Yeah. Yeah I do know." George intervened, he understood. "Let's do the absolute cheesiest thing ever. I'll write a letter to you, and you write one to me."

Dream looked at George like he was insane, but he only smiled and chucked until the ghost gave in with a shrug. The excited brunet handed him a paper and held out a variety of colored sharpies and pens. Choosing the evergreen colored marker, he wrote "Dear George," but couldn't think of much else.

George on the other hand, busied himself, the words and message flowing to him quickly;

Dear Dream,
   Do you ever imagine where you would be? Do you ever imagine what you would be doing? Do you presume we would've met by now? I hope so. Or perhaps not. Maybe the roles would be reversed and I'd be the ghost by your side. I don't think it would matter. We were destined to meet at some point. And I couldn't be happier.

You called me something on the roof. What was it? I think it was astrophilla. Rare love and obsession with planets, stars, and outer space I think it was. I came to the realization that you were like the moon. You are bright, but not annoyingly blinding like the sun. You're absolutely beautiful, even with all of your flaws. And what we have is rare. And I love you. So yeah, that word does fit. 'Astrophilla'. 

Thank you, for saving me. Of course, if you weren't here I would've tried again. I did actually but, you saved me... again. Thank you. I wouldn't have missed out on much of anything. Except you. And to me, you are everything. I love each and every moment you've spent with me. And I'm ready for the thousand moments more we'll make together. With whatever adventure it brings- no matter how absurd it seems, I'm ready as long as I'm with you.

I love you,
George

Dream watched him as he wrote. He was fascinated with him. He was left handed, his writing was only slightly messy. Words seemed to flow effortlessly to the page, as if George didn't even have to think about it.

Dear George,
(Keep in mind I'm not the best at writing)
You are magnificent. Do you know that? Well, if you don't I'm telling you that it's true. I've never met anyone like you. I wish you could see yourself how I do, because you too would fall in love. I cherish every moment I've spent with you. And I've broken every rule of the universe and I'd break a million more if it meant I could do it all again.

I hope you know how proud of you I am. And I will always be proud of you. You have a brilliant mind and a talented hand. Never loose that. Ever.

Your beloved personal sidekick ghost,
Dream

"Oh! Have you finished?" George asked, putting the markers back with the rest. Dream nodded his head and they swapped papers. The ghost was a bit anxious, he was never good at writing. And certainly not good at writing out thoughts.

George immediately began to read the letter. It was easy to make him blush- the ghost decided.

It was going alright until about the fifth sentence he felt his eyes swell. It wasn't that he was sad, it was that no one had ever seemed to care as much as George had. Even when he was just a ghost and there was no hope in a change of fate.

Once Dream finished reading, he looked up to see George's eyes meet his water-filled ones. "I love you so much."

"It's okay Dream-" He wiped the stray tear that raced down the other's cheek before wrapping him in a tight hug. "All is okay. You are okay."

"Sorry- mine was so short and-"

"No. It's absolutely beautiful. I love it." George stopped him. He managed to find a thumb tack and pinned both letters to the wall. He snuggled back into Dream. Comforted by the smell of roses, he whispered just before drifting away into sleep, "I love you too."