Rules were made to be broken ~ A DNF story

Chapter 2

(see end of chapter for trigger warnings)

Sighing, George closed the door with his back and smiled to himself blissfully, his head replaying images of Dream like a broken record. His chest was warm and he felt slightly sick in his stomach, but it was a good sick feeling.
‘Like butterflies,’ George thought to himself as he grinned, continuing to stare down at the floor as he thought about Dream.

“George?” a voice came from the dining room, which he instantly recognised as his mother’s. “George?” She came out from around the corner. “Oh my goodness where have you been?” She embraced her son tightly and held his face and studied him worriedly, slightly annoying George.

“I’m fine Mum,” he said, lowering his mother’s hands from his face and smiling reassuringly to her. Truthfully, George really was thankful that his parents were constantly worried about him and he understood that they only wanted to keep him safe, but now that he was older, they were basically babying him. “Really.”

“Well it’s lucky that you are. Walking alone in the dark, at night? You should be grateful you weren’t mugged,” his father’s voice boomed as he made his over, also from the dining room, and George almost laughed at his statement. If only he knew…

“I was alright Dad, I promise. Nothing happened. I can look after myself.” In truth, he wasn’t alright and something did happen, but he wasn’t going to admit that to his father. George had already mistakenly done that too many times in his youth.

“Besides, I wasn’t alone.” George’s parents looked at their son and he immediately regret what he had added on.
“Who were you with George?” his mum asked, her voice unnecessarily concerned. Her tone almost made George roll his eyes.

“Some other kid in the neighborhood.”

“What was his name?” his father inquired, almost making it seem like he was interrogating his son, which annoyed George, but he did well to hide it.

“Uh, he didn’t exactly tell me… but he told me to call him ‘Dream’.”

“Dream?” his father chortled, aggravating George. “He sounds weird; who calls themself ‘Dream’?” He laughed louder, mocking Dream’s name everytime he said it. George could only stand and frustratingly watch as his crush became a laughing stock for his father.
He carried on chuckling as he walked back into the dining room.

“Dream isn’t weird,” George quietly growled through gritted teeth.

“Come on George. Come join us at the table,” his mother offered, but George politely refused.

“No thanks, mum. I’m not hungry. I already bought and ate something on the way home,” he lied, silently hoping it would be convincing enough.

“Oh, ok.”

“I’ll uh, I’ll be in my room.” Dismissing himself, George made his way up the curved marble staircase and to his room, not looking back to his mother. A small pit of guilt settled in his stomach when he glanced to see her standing alone in the spacious, empty entrance hall, but he ignored it, walking faster so that his pity wouldn’t grow.

Closing his door behind him, George kicked off his black and white converse sneakers and took off his denim jacket. Flopping onto his bed, he grabbed a pillow and held it close, just underneath his nose so that his eyes were free to stare at the ceiling, and his mind to plague him once again with Dream.

It amused George how much he couldn’t take his mind off this one guy he had just met today and had no clue about a week ago. But he just couldn’t help it.

To George, Dream was absolute perfection. The way his spotless skin glowed under the setting sun; how his immaculate hair always managed to fall perfectly into place no matter how much he tousled it or raked his stupid hand through it every once in a while; how his radiant smile was so pure; the way his laugh ricocheted through his ears, infecting him with its addicting joy and the way his voice had that subtle rasp that became more prominent the more he talked. Everything about Dream was just..

“Uggghhhh,” George groaned, burying his face into his pillow to hide his tinted cheeks. Rolling over to his side, the lovestruck little dove stared out of the window from his bed at the glistening sky. As he watched the stars twinkle, he imagined himself and Dream lying together underneath them, holding hands and pointing at each constellation like lovers.

Quietly scoffing at the hopelessly romantic thought, George’s eyelids slowly fluttered closed, falling asleep with the thought drifting with him.

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TW: None

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A/N: Welp chapter 2 here it is! We loving the fluff? I'm loving writing it tbh

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