Waltzes and Waterfalls

Chapter 7

Almost immediately, it seemed as though the air had become thicker, laden with mourning and topped off by the tension the two of them had brought upon themselves. The whole family sat down for a meal (a delicious roast - a shame, George thought, that he couldn’t have enjoyed it quite as much as it deserved, given the circumstances) which was eaten an awkward sort of quiet, filled with the scratching of crockery against their finest china, soft chatter between Sienna, Sarah, and Mark on one end of the table, whilst Dream and George sat in silence. 

Such awkwardness permeated throughout the afternoon, the two of them dancing around each other, desperate for avoidance only to be forced together once more in ways that George didn’t think could get any worse, until he was mistaken when Dream’s mother herself approached them, frogmarching the two of them away from the family. The kitchen settled into an apprehensive silence, so strained it was practically visible in the air among the specs of flour still suspended in the honeyed air of the late afternoon as the pair of them cowered under Sarah’s scrutiny. 

"Alright,” She furrowed her grey-speckled brows, wielding a wooden spoon coated with melted dark chocolate in their general direction, “what is going on between you two?"

Dream chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flitted around the room, settling on everything that wasn’t his mother, "What do you mean? Nothing's going on between us!"

"Yeah,” George added, his voice catching in his throat and cracking as it escaped through gritted teeth.

Sarah let out a long, drawn-out sigh, paired with a look of thick disapproval, "My eyesight may be worsening but I’m not blind! I saw how the two of you acted earlier, and I can see how you’re acting now: I know tension when I see it. You only have one more day together and I will not just stand by and let you ruin it over whatever petty argument you've had."

"We haven't argued-" Dream mumbled, but he was quickly interrupted with a firm. " Clayton. " 

Dream immediately halted in what he was saying, mouth firmly shut, eyes wide. George didn’t think he’d ever seen him shut up so fast, but he’d be lying if he thought he’d react in a different way to Dream.

Sarah was rather scary when she was giving orders. 

"The two of you are going to go into the lounge, and you're not coming out until you've made up, alright?"

"But mom-"

" Alright?"

"Okay." Dream practically whispered.

George offered her the best smile he could muster as he shuffled past her. 

Needless to say, it was not returned.

*

"So," Dream huffed, eyes glued to the ground.

"So." George responded, offering him the best smile he could muster, which ended up being barely more than a quirk of his lips. The pair sat at opposite ends of the sofa, stilted and stiff, backs straight, bodies facing forward. It was practically a caricature of a forced confrontation; perhaps if anyone else was there they might have found it amusing. 

But Dream and George were alone with the painful silence only interrupted by the periodic ticking of the grandfather clock that stood proud in the corner, each seemingly getting further and further apart as the seconds sluggishly dragged on.

Dream stifled a yawn, rubbing circles into his temples as he muttered, "God this is so dumb. It's not like we hate each other or anything."