sunflowers and denim overalls 🌻 DREAMNOTFOUND

ONE

George gets out of the taxi, pulls his suitcase out the boot and comes to a stop to stare at the sight before him.

The vast, assumedly green meadows roll out under the setting sun, dotted with trees and cows that occasionally moo. The chirping of birds is ringing through the air and there's a small sunflower field in the distance that's sort of gorgeous. The air smells fresh and earthy, so much cleaner than he'd ever experienced. At the end of a dirt path, he sees a pretty little white house with a wraparound porch, and a barn with a red roof stands near it, something straight out of a movie.

I do not want to be here, he thinks as he drags the suitcase along the dirt road, it's wheels and bottom getting muddy, just as his shoes were. Great.

You play too many video games, his mother had said. You need to touch some grass, she said. She then proceeded to ship him off to her best friend's farm in Texas. Thanks, mum.

He finally comes to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the front door, contemplating calling another Uber and flying back to Washington. Before he can, though, a boy emerges from behind the house, holding a big sack of something. He's got on a big straw hat, blue overalls over a white shirt and huge black rubber boots up to his calves. Cute, George thinks.

"Georgie!" he yells, tossing the sack to the side and running up to George as soon as he sets eyes on him. George's eyes widen in panic because he is certain he doesn't know this man.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he says to the taller guy, who can't be older than twenty, same as him. He looks even more handsome up close, with sparkling green eyes and a light dusting of freckles across his cheeks. His face looks like one that'd never get tired of smiling, a boyish grin seemingly fixated on his face. Jesus Christ.

"Not really, no," he replies, still flashing his perfect, white teeth. "But I've been waiting for you to get here for so long! How was your flight?"

"Er, good, I guess," George scratches the back of his head awkwardly, not sure what to do or say. He was expecting to be greeted by a lonely, old, grumpy guy named Clay, not...this guy.

"I'm happy to hear that," the boy says, then smacks his forehead. "I'm such an idiot, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Clay, but you can call me Dream," he smiles, offering up his hand. So he does have the right guy. Weird nickname, but George doesn't question it.

"George," he takes it. "Although I suppose you knew that already."

"Yeah," Dream chuckles awkwardly, grabbing up George's suitcase easily, like George wasn't just out of breath from lugging it up the driveway. He has no choice but to follow 'Dream' into the house.

"So, uh, make yourself comfortable," he says, dropping George's stuff just in front of the entrance. Dream takes his hat off to reveal a dirty blond mop of hair, adorably flattened against his forehead. "It's not much, but it's home," he smiles, almost nervous.

George looks around at the living room, the wooden staircase leading to the first floor, and a painted wooden door that must lead to the kitchen. It all looks like it's something out of the sixties, nearly no sign of modernity other than the flatscreen fixed to the wall opposite him.

"It's lovely, actually," George smiles at Dream.

"Thanks," Dream says, leading George to the kitchen. "You must be hungry after all that icky airplane food," Dream scrunches up his nose adorably, getting to work preparing dinner as George sits down at the small table.

"You have no idea," George rolls his eyes, then jumps and lets out a yelp as he feels something brush up against his leg under the table.

Dream looks back in alarm, then relaxes when he sees George craning his neck to see under the table. "Sorry, that's Patches," he laughs at George's panic. "Here, girl," he softly calls, crouching next to the table. When Patches comes his way, he picks her up in his arms and scratches her neck as he holds her. "She must like you," he walks over to where George was seated, and lowers himself so he can pet her.

George cautiously puts his hand on her head, feeling the warm, soft fur as he scratches her, and a small smile appears on his face as Patches seems to be enjoying it. But then she jumps out of Dream's arms and sashays away, leaving Dream kneeling awkwardly close to George. Once he realizes this, he swiftly stands up and gets back to work cooking something.

"Need some help with that?" George gets up and walks over to where Dream was cutting tomatoes painstakingly slowly.

"No, no, you're the guest!" Dream says, intensely focused on the tomatoes. "I got this."

"Are you sure about that? Because not one of your pieces of tomato are the same size."

"...I meant for that to happen," Dream says, staring sadly down at the chopped tomato.

"Sure you did," George says, bumping him with his hip gently and taking the knife from his hand.

"Hey, I'm a good cook, okay? Cutting vegetables just...isn't my forte. I may or may not be a little scared of knives." Dream gets out a pot and places it on the stove.

"That's funny, actually," George says. "I've always been great at cutting stuff up but shit when it comes to the actual cooking part."

"Well, it's a good thing you're here, then," Dream says sincerely. "My sous chef," he jokes, pointing a spatula at George.

Chuckling, George goes back to cutting up the tomatoes. "What are we making anyway, chef?"

"My special - spaghetti with meatballs," Dream says with a flourish, putting the water on to boil. "So I hear you're in college."

"I am," George confirms, moving on to the onions.

"What are you studying?"

"Game programming."

"Cool, cool. So you're a computer nerd."

"I am not," George huffs, pretending to be offended.

"Come on, yes you are," Dream teases playfully, taking the tomatoes and putting them into a second pot. "Little gamer boy."

"What about you, cowboy?" George says. "Shouldn't you be in university, too?"

"Dropped out," Dream shrugs. "Wasn't my thing. I like it here, with the animals, the fresh air. The sunflowers," he sighs, and George could see how much Dream must love this place.

"Yeah," George says, realizing his hand had stilled over the onions and getting back to cutting. "Must be nice."

"It is! And you're gonna love it, too. A goat just gave birth, and baby goats are the cutest thing. We also have a handful of chickens, two cows and a horse named Rooster," Dream lists. It's cute how passionate he is about his farm.

"You named your horse Rooster?" George chuckles.

"The cows are named Piglet and Tigger," Dream nods proudly, making George laugh more.

Dream reaches over to grab something out of the cupboard in front of George, and George's heart beats faster as Dream's chest brushes against his back.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, George asks, "So you live alone here? Handle all the work yourself?"

"Well, there's Nick, who comes in once a month to pick up the sunflowers. And my family visits once in a while, but other than that...just me and the animals," Dream replies easily. "And you, now," he smiles. "At least, for a while. How long are you staying, again?"

"Until my summer break's over," George replies. "So, three months."

Three months that might not be as bad as he expected, George thinks.