Playing with Fire//dreamnotfound

**Chapter Seven**

•TW's/CW's- mentions of s*xual assault, mentions of violence, drug use (weed)

  Dream lead George to a small hill in the back of the school. At the top sat a big willow tree. The two boys sat down and stayed silent until one of them had the courage to speak up.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" George spoke softly, trying not to upset the blonde beside him.

Dream sat there. He thought about it, he wanted to tell George but he wasn't used to opening up like this. He wasn't used to talking about his feelings or anything personally for that matter.

"He was talking about you," Dream quietly spoke. "He was talking about you to all of his friends. It was like he was bragging George! He didn't even feel sorry! He was fucking proud of himself!" The taller man spoke.

George could hear the frustration increasing in his voice. He could see red flush the man's face. George had picked up that Dream may have had some sort of anger issues, it wasn't like it was a big secret.

"He was saying such disgusting things I couldn't help myself. I walked over there and gave him a matching bruise, just like I told him I would. I promised you he wouldn't be coming near you again, and I keep my promises." The taller man stated.

George looked at Dream, who just stared straight ahead of him, obviously trying to control himself. He studied the man's features, which he had never done before. He had never noticed the light freckles dotting his face, or how his emerald eyes shinned so brightly, or the way the corners of his mouth twitch when he's angry.

George gently laid his hand on Dream's forearm. The blonde snapped his head in his direction, still not use to the physical contact.

"Thankyou Dream," the brunette spoke softly. "Thankyou for looking out for me. However, I do have one question," he paused before continuing now making eye contact with the less angry boy seated next to him. "Why do you care so much? I know I've asked you this before but why? I just don't understand how you went from hating me one day to being so kind the next." George finished and quirked his head.

Dream froze. He had a feeling why he cared, he just didn't feel like telling the whole truth.

"I care because I can tell you're a genuinely good person George. You're nice and understanding. And the fact that James would do something so absolutely terrible to you pisses me off to no end. You've been nothing but nice to me even if I didn't return those same emotions back to you. I'm sorry I was so rude to you when you first came. I'm not used to letting people in or talking about myself, and I'm obviously not good at expressing my emotions." The taller boy said, making George feel shocked.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that certainly wasn't it.

"I forgive you," it's all George said. He then carefully laid his head on the blondes shoulder. He picked up the boys hand and inspected the wounds now dried with blood. "I'll help you clean those up at your house after school," he stated. Dream then placed his head on top of George's. In that moment, everything was okay.

The boys stayed that way in silence until the lunch bell rung signaling they had 10 minutes to get to their next class. They walked side by side all the way to history, in comfortable silence and safety.

—

History passed by quick. George was now sitting in his last class of the day, pottery. Tommy and Tubbo were also in that class with him. He was also introduced to one of their friends, Ranboo, who was in the same year as the younger two boys. That period was basically just a free period, since they didn't have time to start a project after the teacher went over basic procedures.