Downhill || 𝘥𝘯𝘧

XL

// Happy 40 part anniversary!! Fanart by @taxolotl_ on Twitter //

// 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 //

The sheets were just as cold as the air around him as Dream rolled out of bed, a groan of discontent escaping his parted lips. The room was dark, curtains drawn to limit the amount of light filtering in. He blurrily shuffled over to the door and clicked it open before stepping outside towards the bathroom. The carpet was soft and squishy under his bare feet as he padded along, brain still groggy with sleep. As his eyes grazed over the room across from his own, he noted how the door was closed and the halls were quiet. George must've still been asleep. He almost always was at this time of morning.

Dream flipped the light switch and stepped through the door frame, wincing as white light instantly filled the room and glared him in the eyes, luminous with help of the shiny tiles on the floor and white marble countertop. He grumbled a complaint before blinking the stars from his eyes and shutting the door behind him.

He leaned over the sink and turned the left knob to ignite the hot water. "Why's he keep it so cold in here?" he muttered as he cupped warm water between two hands and splashed it over his face, shoulders loosening at the newfound warmth on his frigid nose and rosy cheeks. Once he got enough of splashing water on his face, he patted himself dry with a towel and ran a couple of hands through his disheveled hair. 

Now feeling a little more awake, he sighed a heavy breath and propped his palms against the cool marble before leaning over and studying himself in the mirror. Mostly, he was trying to decide whether he needed a shave or not. He'd noticed over the past few days that the stubble on his face was growing a little longer than he liked.

After a minute of thinking, he decided he was in need of a little trim. He navigated back to his room and dug through his suitcase until he found the little black bag that carried all the supplies he would need to do the job. Returning to the bathroom, he laid everything out in front of him on a towel - the electric razor, shaving cream, blade, and scissors. He didn't even really know why he had scissors, because he usually didn't even end up using them.

He plugged the electric razor into the wall and flipped it on. Usually he liked to keep some hair on his chin and along his jaw, just to sort of help shape his face and because he thought he looked good with it. So he got to work, trimming the rough edges and making sure there were no stray hairs sticking out. He kept only about a quarter of an inch. After years of skilled practice, he was able to achieve this look easily.

When he was done with the trim, he lathered a wad of shaving cream across his jaw before taking the blade to his cheekbones, where he sharpened up the edges and finished everything up, making sure to shave away his accumulating unibrow as well. When finished, he washed the citral-scented foam down the drain and patted himself dry once more. 

Satisfied with his work, Dream neatly packed up his shaving kit and tucked it back into his suitcase. The windows outside were light with afternoon sun; though when you looked outside, it really wasn't so light. The neighborhood that George's parents lived in was dreary and quiet, snow-covered and dull without any sort of greenery. Dream wasn't used to seeing this sort of weather. In fact, he still got surprised whenever he looked outside and saw snowflakes drifting down from a hazy gray sky, or sleet pattering lightly against the windowpane. It was an adjustment; but quite frankly, Dream liked it.

It was a nice change of pace from sunny skies and blistering heat all the time. Actually, it rained a lot in Florida; but they never got snow. It was a cool thing to see, something he wished he hadn't missed out on as a kid. The world was an entire different palette of colors here. Instead of green and yellow and warm with sun, it was gray and white and cold and wet.