Jealousy // dreamnotfound

::35::

George can barely keep his eyes open.

He's been especially snappy recently, lashing out during a group therapy session because some asshole was looking at him funny. Well, George swears he was, not that he's very reasonable right now anyway.

Lucas hasn't been visiting much, claiming to have work to be doing. Apparently his work is all online and he spends his time in a hotel room, but George honestly doubts this. He thinks maybe his brother just doesn't want to deal with him anymore. George wouldn't blame him.

George is currently in his room listening to Ant and his boyfriend—George learned to be called Velvet—kissing and cuddling. It's annoying, to say the least, and only reminds him of how much he misses his own boyfriend.

The brunette finally gets aggravated enough to say something, shooting the two of them a glare. "Can you guys stop fucking making out for one minute or go somewhere else? I'm trying to get some rest here!"

At first, George feels bad for his little spout of anger, but when Ant and Velvet just get up and leave, he doesn't think he's actually angered them. He figures the two will just end up going to a vacant storage closet anyway.

George picks up one of the random books he received from a nurse and opens it, trying to be intrigued in the storyline. With each word, though, he can't find himself enjoying it. In fact, reading only makes George angrier, and against better judgement, he screams and throws the book across the room. He doesn't make an effort to pick it up.

What he didn't realize was the person standing at his door that witnessed this.

"George."

The Brit whips his head over, gaze softening upon realizing the person at the door is Dream.

"Dream?" George says softly, almost allowing a smile to tug its way onto his face. He doesn't, though, eyebrows furrowing. "I thought I told you not to come? Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you," Dream smiles, walking further into the room. He picks up the discarded book and gently places it on the table next to George's bed.

"I told you not to visit me! Are you dense? God," George finds himself becoming frustrated, but not at the blonde, rather himself. He hates the way he's starting to treat the man he loves, and he internally hits himself—maybe even externally, George doesn't know—because of it.

Dream doesn't seem to mind the outburst, only sitting in the seat next to George, slowly reaching for his hand. The brunette lets him hold it, noticing the smile that plays on his lips. "I went to the art exhibit," Dream pauses as to collect his thoughts. "It was beautiful, I wish you could come."

"Can I see?" George asks, voice small. He physically composes himself as to not get angry again.

Dream nods and takes out his phone, cautiously moving to sit on George's bed with him. The brunette moves slightly to make more room, and Dream slides in fully, sitting with his legs overtop the blanket next to George's.

George watches in awe as Dream scrolls through the pictures, wishing he wasn't stuck in this hospital and could go see them himself.

"It was peaceful there, you would've liked it," Dream says with a smile. He turns off his phone, prompting George to look up at him with confusion, only to see him staring back already. "I read your letters."

"The letters," George says breathlessly. He hadn't forgotten about them, but he hadn't expected Dream to actually find them yet.

Dream smiles at him and reaches for one of his hands, squeezing it ever-so-softly. "They were beautiful. I had no clue you had been writing them every week."