Forced love // dreamnotfound

24

It didn't even take more than an hour for him to be hungry again. Due to him not eating at all the day before.

He got up, and felt his broken leg, guarded by the cast, being able to be bent. The cast was broken.

George didn't even know at this point if Dream would be mad or just not care.

He didn't know how long he'd been at Dreams, and how long until the cast can be removed, but he sure as hell ain't going to ask Dream.

George has developed a Dream phobia.

He got the crutches, so sick of them by now, and very quietly he got to the door. Again, the question crossed his mind, thousands of times.

Does he really want to eat? His stomach was quite hurting, and every time he took a breath in, it made a terrifying sound, like it would be slowly dying already from not eating anything.

It's what's best for him, to just go downstairs and eat. He opened the door with a visible shake in his hand, and let his body do the moving without thinking anything, because George knew damn well that the thoughts that would come out would be the opposite of pleasant.

He was at the stairs already. The scariest place in the whole house. The crutches were back in their usual spot, right by the wall, and George's back was now getting hit by stairs that he slowly rolled himself down from.

The only thing different this time, was that Dream was sitting on the couch, and watching George roll into the living room space.

"Hey." Dream said and watched him closely. He seemed chill so far. "Hey." George didn't watch Dream back, eye contact with him would be too much awkward.

George jumped into the kitchen, and Dream stood up at once, when he realized where George was headed. "Wait, I'll make food, what do you want?" Dream went up to George and guided him away from the kitchen.

He was forced to walk on the broken leg by how he was being pushed. Dream was watching the cast that George stepped on.

"The casts broken." Dream said, and George was sitten down on the brown sofa, while Dream watched his leg.

"Yeah." George gave a quick answer, with a quick glance to Dream, the silence in the room aggravating.

Dream crouched down and lifted Georges leg with his right hand. He just watched it for a few quick seconds and put it back down, reaching now both of his hands to untie the gauze.

Once it was freed up, the whole thing steadily rolled down from Georges insignificantly paler skin.

He moved his ankle and it made a cracking noise, which scared both of them. He didn't even feel any pain though.

"Does it hurt?" Dream pressed about the same spot that made George cry some time ago. "Not really." He couldn't tell if it hurt or not. That probably means not.

"Good." Dream stood up and went to the kitchen. "What do you want? To eat." George turned his head to Dream, who was standing impatiently, waiting for an answer.

"Um. Anything?" "Ugh, mac and cheese it is." Another thing that made Dream mad was indecisiveness, but sadly that was a part of George that was impossible to get rid of.

Dream was doing whatever it was that he was doing, and George just watched the wall, awkwardly as always. Dream paced up to him and threw the TV remote in his lap, then left, back in the kitchen.

George didn't exactly know which button does what, it was usually Dream who controlled the TV. The first one was obvious, the red circle that turned the thing on.

Then he had to find out how to get to Netflix, cause that's usually all they watch, also very occasionally.

Thank God this wasn't one of those impossible to decrypt remotes, with billions of different buttons covering the whole surface of it. There was a beautiful button with the word Netflix on it already, probably saved him from having to ask Dream.

There were only two accounts. One was named Dream, and not Clay for some reason, and the other one was Marlene. Could that possibly be his sister?

Ignoring it, because Dream might see him hovering over her account, he hit the middle button, and he was in.

He had a choice, one he couldn't decide. Which one should be the one he watches?

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The Sun rose as always, getting back in it's position to shine weak light in Georges dark room.

His eyes opened to the blur of the wall, that was standing so normally, but something didn't seem right with it.

He stood up, letting the pain of his usual morning headache sink in, and eat his every muscle. His body flinched, pain isn't meant to be ignored by a body, but in this case it's all it can wish for.

His gaze fell on the carpet, that he had never ever noticed before, it couldn't have possibly been there before. Nothing seemed real, like he woke up in a different reality.

His steps went towards the door. The first morning where he finally gets to walk with both feet, without the red and black crutches.

Wait, no, he remembered, Georges leg sadly needs to heal more, so he has to still walk with the crutches for at least a week. Bullshit.

He took them back in his grasp, longing for the normal days, without Dream.

Somehow, he blamed Dream for everything. Everything that happens these days is because of Dream.

He tore his door open and paced to the stairs, that he didn't even care to crawl or crutch down, who cares, he took his recently recovered foot and threw it on the step, not giving a single piece of care to it.

It took him half the time to be at the other end of them, it felt so good, like he finally had the power.

"Good morning, George." Dream looked at George with a sinister look. "Hi." George ignored eye contact and was soon in the kitchen.

"Dream, could you go to the store and get me a toothbrush?"

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Sorry for not posting in a while:/