The Wedding //dnf

18

Dream hated being wrong. He hated having to apologize. And worst of all, he hated when George was upset with him.

George should be relaxing when he's sick, not stressed out and angry. And it was driving Dream crazy that it was his fault George was upset. 

Dream desperately wanted to go back into the other room and tuck George in once more, make sure he was okay, and whisper little nothings into George's ear until he went back to sleep.

But George hated him now. And George had tricked him. Dream clenched his teeth as he recalled George's stupid little prank, when he had called Skeppy and acted like he was going to leave. George is incorrigible. And why did he call Skeppy to care for him, of all people? Skeppy didn't have a single caring bone in his body. At least, not like Dream did.

And who was Skeppy to let George stay with him anyways? Dream and George had been close friends for years. Skeppy and George had only voice called a handful of times that Dream knew of.

It was petty, the whole thing was petty. And Dream wasn't sure what to do with himself. He anxiously paced around his room, every once in a while placing his hands on his temples to steady himself.

Maybe I can talk to George again, maybe we can reinstall Twitter and talk through everything that happened-

But it was too late. The trust was already broken. George didn't trust Dream, and Dream would have to figure out how to earn that trust back.

The thought was sickening. It reminded Dream of when he was younger and his mom got upset with him for lying to her and sneaking out.

'You'll have to earn my trust back, which takes a lot of time. It's not going to happen overnight, which means you'll have to accept the consequences. No more parties and no more sports games. You're grounded.'

And his mom had been right. It had been a few months before things were mostly back to normal.

How long would it take with George? A man who was so stubborn he'd held on tightly to grudges for years? Dream had a feeling he wouldn't hear the end of this one for a long time.

It was such a stupid decision. One Dream felt currently really dumb to have made. But he couldn't reverse time and change what he had done. He had to move forward.

A loud knock at the front door startled him from his thoughts. He listened as the sound of Patches' cat bell jingled loudly as she jumped off the counter. Dream sighed, as he made his way out of his room and through the kitchen, ignoring George who was sprawled out on the couch as he went to see who had knocked.

He was relieved to see Drista and his mom had arrived, carrying familiar crinkly bags Dream knew held burritos from Moe's.

Dream smiled as he pulled the door open.

"Come in."

Drista walked in first, craning her neck towards the couch where Patches had retreated to, clearly trying to get a glimpse of George. "Is he in here? Is he sleeping?"

"I'm not sleeping," a voice came from behind the couch. After a moment, George's head peeked over the side, a tentative smile of his face. "Um... hi."

"George!" Drista squealed. "I wish I could give you a hug, but you should probably stay over there."

"It's good to see you guys," George remarked. "Are you feeling okay Drista? That must have been so scary."

Drista nodded. "Yeah, it was really scary. Not being able to breathe... It's awful. But I feel a lot better now, so that's good. I'm glad to be out of the hospital."