Please Let Me Go (dnf)

Honesty Hour

Dream's wet palms ran across the condensation covered mirror, revealing a reflection he wished he didn't recognize. There was always some level of clarity, usually accompanied by regret, after George was the last thought that crossed his mind when he finished. Dream dragged his hands across his face, getting any residual water out of his short beard. He had started to look fairly scrappy. The late nights of babysitting his drunk friends were clearly taking a toll on more than his mental health, last night's ren dez vous at the beach only making his dark circles worse. Dream wrapped a white towel around his waist before rubbing shaving cream over his face. He was never a fan of having a beard, even if it was essentially just stubble. Plus, the summer heat was ruthless, making any extra body hair an inconvenience.

Dream splashed water over his face once he finished shaving, washing away any remnant shaving cream. He wished he could wash away his thoughts down the drain too. How long was he going to be like this? Continually pining after someone he knew didn't exist? How could he hold such disdain for George, yet still find his mind wandering to the thought of him whenever he couldn't ignore the stiffness below his waist band. Dream leaned back up, the haze of his mirror nearly gone, leaving nothing left to shield him from his own gaze. He rolled his eyes at his own reflection before brushing his teeth.

The air from his room was crisp from the air conditioning compared to the steam of the bathroom. The chill made goosebumps spread across his damp arms. He welcomed them, walking to his wardrobe to throw on a pair of loose sweatpants. For someone who was born and raised in Florida, Dream always idealized the cold. He used to spend weeks at a time up north when he was still with his ex-girlfriend. Dream missed the crisp leaves on the ground in early autumn, the magic in the first snowfall, and how the only way you could warm up was to be cuddled close to someone. Florida was quite the opposite, nothing to romanticize about humidity, alligators, and bugs.

All Dream wanted was to collapse into his bed, hold Patches on his chest, and sleep for at least ten hours straight. No interruptions from George jumping on his bed. No calls from Sapnap begging for Dream to run out and pick up breakfast for everyone. Just him, his cat, the chill of the air conditioner, and-

George?

George.

Dream was frozen in place once he turned around to see George sitting cross legged in his bed. Patches was a traitor, fully curled between George's legs, fast asleep, while he pet her. George wasn't even trying to hide the amusement on his face, clearly enjoying Dream's lack of composure. Dream couldn't even process the sight before him, his frazzled mind had experienced too much in the last five hours to handle anything more.

"Get out." Dream tried to sound stern, his words coming out more meek than he would've liked. He couldn't help it, he was ready to collapse. He refused to give George the satisfaction of surrendering and climbing into bed with him still in it- he had to stand his ground. Dream leaned against the frame of his closet for support, his eyes already lidded.

"You want me to wake Patches? That's just cruel." George gave a smile shrouded in false innocence, continuing to pet her gently. They both knew quality time with Dream's cat was the last reason George was in there. "I would be tired too, you know, based on what I heard. I'm not surprised Sapnap chose the downstairs bedroom-"

"George. Get the fuck out of my room, now." Dream finally got the harsh tone he was going for. Unfortunately, the only one intimidated by it was Patches, her head popping up from George's lap before she jumped off the bed. Ugh. Why did George have to be so insufferable? Why did he have to act like this? What happened to the man who cried in his arms on the beach, who pathetically begged for Dream to kiss him? Both were monsters, but Dream certainly preferred angry and vulnerable George over this.