Please Let Me Go (dnf)

Love and Loss

REMINDER: Everything that is a dream is in italics- if it's not italicized it's not a dream (little confusing- clarification at end)

Possibly the most beautiful George had ever looked.

Dream knew George was beautiful, longing to tell him every chance he could. He would often write it down every time he wanted to tell George just how beautiful he was. Whether that be on streams when George would use his headphones to push back his overgrown bangs, revealing an unobstructed view of the face that Dream's day wasn't complete without seeing. Even in Tommy's vlog when George borrowed Wilbur's circular glasses; God, he could pull off anything. Especially the snapchats they exchanged late at night, where George would have his eyes squinted shut and his nose crinkled from the brightness of the flash.

Dream's notes app was littered with vague messages to himself, all things he wished he could tell George, instead of hiding them away. "George is wearing my hoodie today, what an idiot. A beautiful idiot." , "George sent me a zoomed in snapchat today. I know he was trying to be funny, but I couldn't help but admire the freckles I'd never seen before." , "Maybe I'm crazy, but I think George blushed when I shamelessly flirted with him today. Pink is a lovely color on his cheeks."

None of those memories compared to George's beauty at this specific point in time.

George's dark eyes had never looked warmer, the flames dancing in the reflection of his tired and lidded eyes. His hair stuck in every direction, with wild curls framing his face. His lips, which were no longer swollen but still a bit bruised, looked all the more attractive to Dream, since he knew the love marks were from him. George's features looked so much softer than they did during the day, all the tension he held in his jaw and forehead was nowhere to be seen. George looked delicate. He looked beautiful. He was breathtaking.

Dream hesitantly reached for the hand that was stretched out to him, relishing in the feeling of cool fingertips gliding across his palm. He stepped forward, allowing himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He was reluctant to lay down, knowing that it would only result in another night of holding George in his arms, inevitably falling asleep to the rhythmic pattern of their synced breathing. Yet another night of peaceful sleep, with the scent of George's hair filling his senses as he held him closely. It would be perfect, but not in the long run. Dream wanted to do better, he deserved better. He didn't want fleeting nights that would shift into cold shoulders come morning. He wanted stability. He wanted consistency. He wanted a partner.

Dream finally believed what Jeremy had told him. He believed he truly was a person worthy and deserving of love, whether that was with or without George. All he could do was hope and pray that for his heart, for his sanity, and for the quality of the rest of George's stay, that the love he deserved was something George was capable of giving him. Dream was ready to come clean, even if it meant this was the last time he would ever be allowed to view George in this light. Even if this was his last time to take in the beautiful sight of the man he loved so deeply that it hurt.

"I love you, George."

Dream's heart was beating so powerfully he could hear his pulse ringing in his ears. He was so focused on his breathing, doing everything in his power to at least appear like he could still breath normally, he almost missed the light laugh that George let out. The fondness in George's voice reminded Dream of the laugh he had only heard a few times on those intimate late night discord calls. Calls where George would call him 'darling' or 'cute'. Calls where the minutes moved like molasses as the sun rose for George and set for Dream. Calls where two sleep deprived friends could take refuge in a silence that never felt uncomfortable.

"I love you too, idiot. Lay with me." George was smiling up at Dream, his previous question now a gentle demand. His heavy eyelids had finally closed, the flames no longer dancing in the deep brown of his irises. Flickering golden light moved like waves across George's resting face, one of the three t-light candles finally burning out. George gave a soft pull on Dream's hand, intertwining their fingers. Even with his body desperate to lay down, to hold George closely, to allow their bodies to fit together like two puzzle pieces, Dream remained sitting up.