Downhill || 𝘥𝘯𝘧

XII

George filled the cup half-way with the whiskey before adding Coke and ice. He took a sip, wincing at the strength of the drink, before taking a long swig. He didn't exactly know why he was drinking; it was almost like his body had been craving it.

A moment later, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and quickly turned towards the sink, shielding view of the drink with his body. Dream walked around the corner, wearing a black smile hoodie and comfortable-looking plaid sweatpants. He stood in the middle of the room, turning in a circle and looking around. "Your parents have a nice house," he commented. The dog trotted over to him and sat on his feet, panting and looking up at him happily.

While he was turned the other way, George set the cup in the sink and swallowed what was in his mouth. He quickly wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve before walking over to join Dream.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "They take good care of it."

"I like their dog," Dream added, rubbing the golden retriever between her ears. "What's her name?"

"Macy," George replied. "She is really sweet," he agreed.

Macy wagged her tail as her name was spoken, gazing up at Dream with those big brown eyes. "I guess she has good taste," George added jokingly, regarding how much she liked him. He found himself gazing Dream's rugged, muscular hands, moving rhythmically as he stroked her head.

"Anyway, were you going to show me around?" Dream asked, turning his attention from the dog to George, who quickly averted his gaze. Dream then began walking to the sink to wash the smell of dog from his hands. George froze, knowing what he was going to find. He could only watch as Dream walked over and ran the hot water, pumping a dollop of soap into his hands.

When he was done washing, he noticed the cup, sitting in the middle of the sink fizzing with fresh ice and soda. After staring at it for a moment, he craned his head to look over his shoulder at George, who was standing leaned against the counter, feeling a sort of guilt in his gut. Dream had slightly narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow.

"What's this?" He asked, holding up the drink. George looked at it. He had nothing to say.

"A drink," he stated.

"You're still drinking?" Dream asked calmly, though George could hear the faint disappointment hidden in his voice.

"Just one," he defended himself.

"Why? You're about to go to bed, anyway. This isn't going to help you feel better," Dream reasoned.

"It's just a drink. It's normal to have one once in a while," he shrugged.

"Why were you trying to hide it then?" Dream questioned. George rolled his eyes.

"I don't know," he sighed.

Dream set the drink back down and dried his hands using the towel hanging over the handle of the oven. "You should dump it out," he suggested as George walked over and grabbed it. George looked at Dream and saw concern lighting his eyes. He obviously didn't like the idea of George drinking.

With a sigh, George reluctantly tipped the drink into the drain and placed the cup in the dishwasher. "There. Happy now?" He asked. Dream nodded.

"Yep. That's what I'm here for," he said with a small grin. "You gonna give me the grand tour now?" He asked after a moment.

"Sure. Let's go," George said, and led Dream downstairs.

As he showed him around the house, George thought about the conversation they just had. He felt upset that he had disappointed Dream, but also glad that he had pointed it out and made him dump the alcohol. That stuff was nasty, anyway.