Downhill || 𝘥𝘯𝘧

XLIII

Dream stood, brushed himself off, and flashed George a smile to hide his sudden nerves. What if she didn't like him? Or she wasn't supportive? Or he said the wrong thing, or wasn't likeable, or...

"She'll love you," George whispered encouragingly in a hushed tone as Dream approached. He must've noticed the anxious glimmer in Dream's eyes.

Dream gulped and gave him a nod. "Thanks," he said. With that, George turned away, disappearing into the room. Dream followed quickly as George resumed his spot beside his mother's bed. Dream clicked the door gently closed, immersing himself fully into the quiet, warm air.

He gave his best smile as he stood at the foot of George's mom's bed, allowing her to take in his features and even scanning her face himself. She had a kind appearance, with light wrinkles around her eyes and along the corners of her mouth from years of expressing emotion without restraint.

Despite her calm, sweet demeanor, Dream was aware of a fire in her eyes that he knew could easily light him aflame if he made a wrong decision. This supposed trait of hers was reflected in her children as well; George's sisters, Taylor and Grace; in their interest in becoming lawyers and their fierce personalities. It always took a certain kind of talent to become a lawyer. You needed skill in communication, a sharp brain and tongue, and the ability to put someone down if need be.

The flame was reflected in George's personality, too, though was showcased not so much as fire but in ice. His sarcastic personality and quick-witted traits were just a few of the many reasons Dream was so interested in him.

George's mom looked him up and down for a moment before smiling warmly. "Hello. You're Dream, I presume?" she asked in a smooth voice. She must've overcome the raspiness while talking to George previously. Dream nodded his head.

"Yes. But, uh- you can call me Clay. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davidson," he said before walking to her bedside and reaching out his hand for a shake. She took it up, and he was surprised by the firmness of her grip.

He wasn't entirely sure whether he should call her Mrs. Davidson or just Miss. He wasn't even sure she was aware of her husband's passing yet. He definitely didn't want to be the first one to bring it up, so he just went with the safe option.

"Clay. What a nice name. You can call me Lily, please. There's no need to be formal here," she said kindly. Dream relaxed at the easiness of her voice.

"Thank you, Lily," he said before releasing her cold hand and turning to pull a chair closer. He sat beside her bed, opposite from George.

"Of course," she said, and Dream smiled again. "So..." she began, clearing her throat. Dream glanced at George and noticed he was looking at Dream as well. What did you tell her?

Did you tell her about us?

"George tells me you flew all the way across the ocean to come here after our accident. Is that true?" She asked lightly. Dream blinked, mind racing to scrape up a good answer.

"Yeah, I did. I figured he'd need my help with this particular problem, and I definitely am not one to just sit back and watch my best friend suffer when I could be doing something to help," Dream answered honestly. He was taking this conversation as somewhat of an interview; though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"And you've been helping him take care of the house?" She asked curiously. Dream slowly nodded.

"Uh- yeah. I came mostly for emotional support, but... yeah, I've done my best to help with the house," he replied quickly.

"I was kind of spiraling after you and dad got into the crash. He really came to keep me grounded," George added helpfully. "I, you know, wasn't eating and stuff. And I... sort of drank all the alcohol in the house."