Take Your Time

10. A Campfire Tells Stories Too.

Dream has been quiet...

Really fucking quiet, actually.

Ever since he spoke, he seems to be resisting the urge to do it again. He's holding back like it's a punishment. As if he's blaming himself for breaking down that night.

The days quickly turned into a full month and yet, he still hasn't looked directly into my eyes.

I want to know what caused him to suddenly start talking that night.

What triggered him?
_ _ _

They are having breakfast on the roof, enjoying the fresh air and hearing the birds chirp. The sun was comming up, starting the day. But it didn't warm them up for the slightest, you could simply feel that the winter season was near. George was just staring into the distance, not really paying attention to Dream or anything else surrounding him.

November 3rd, already...
One month left. The thought suddenly flashed through Dream's mind, but he chose to ignore it. He handed him a piece of paper. 'Are you okay?'

George lazily read the words, muttering under his breath, "I could ask you the same." He could sense Dream was nervous about something.

''I'm just thinking...'' George finally spoke again, a little more serious this time as he put his coffee aside.

"It is weird how so less words can make so much impact. Your voice." George mutters, looking up from the paper he was holding. "It controls me."

"Your voice controls me, Clay." George finally admits. Dream was taken back by it and could feel his cheeks glow up, "Good to know." His voice was quiet and almost weak as he spoke. Something George enjoyed to hear so much.

"You're so stupid." He replied and Dream just laughed, rather liking the way George had said the words. His chuckles faded as he returned to focus on a notebook.

Dream was writing, George figured. What he was writing, however, remains a mystery. George really couldn't tell. All he could see was the way Clay was softly hunched over. If he really focused, he could hear the soft noice of graphite on paper.

Every now and then, Dream would lean back and George would watch as he scanned over what he'd written, lips just barely mimicking the words. He seemed so focused on what he was doing, it's mesmerizing.

"You left me with so many questions that night..." The sudden words of George made him look up from his notebook, a frown appeared on his face, although he had a feeling he knew what George was talking about.

"When you were injured... It wasn't caused by a fall, was it?" George said very softly. Dream's breath got caught in his throat,
but he finally gave in with a nod.

George scoffed and looked at Dream in disbelief. Why would he lie? He noticed how his emerald green eyes carried a sadness he hadn't even been aware of up until now.

A silence fell over them, no one dared to say a thing. Dream quietly sighed, lifting the atmosphere by handing him a piece of paper once again, "Where would you go, if you had to leave all of the sudden?'' George read out loud.

''That's a good question." He briefly let out a chuckle, "I think I wouldn't go far. Probably the nearest city."

"Why?" Dream whispered -oh so- quietly, but it melted George's chuckle into a smile.

Dream is getting more comfortable...

"A lot of my friends live there." George quickly explained, "Is there a place you'd like to visit?"