Downhill || 𝘥𝘯𝘧

XLVI

"Do you want this for the flight or should I pack it up?" Dream asked, holding up one of George's various phone chargers that he'd scavenged from underneath the bed.

"Uh- I don't need it. You can put it in the suitcase, please," George replied after a quick glance over his shoulder. He was seated across the room at the mouth of his closet, sorting through clothes and other random belongings. Everything that needed to be packed.

"Alright," Dream said, and he pushed off his knee to stand up before pacing over to the large black suitcase and dropping the white cord on top. The case was getting really full; he thought they'd only be able to fit a few more things before it reached its limit. He walked back over to the bed, this time searching underneath the other side. He came out with a few Cheez-it wrappers and soda cans.

"Gosh, when's the last time you cleaned your room?" Dream asked as he carried the trash to the small bin in the corner.

George scoffed. "This is the nicest you'll ever see it," he stated. "I don't clean it much. I think those Cheez-it wrappers were from, like, two years ago."

"Two years? Jesus, George," Dream chuckled.

"Well, I'm sorry that you're Mr. OCD freak over there," George huffed over his shoulder. "It's clean enough for me."

"I guess it's not that bad," Dream agreed. "I've seen worse."

"Like Nick's room?" George asked with a smirk. "I've seen pictures."

"Yeah," Dream chuckled. "But also... no. I wasn't always a clean-freak, you know," he affirmed as he stuffed the pillows on George's bed into plastic bags. They needed to do this so that when they transported them, they wouldn't get all dirty and gross.

"Really? You?" George asked, pausing to look over his shoulder at Dream and gawk at him, like that was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. "You had a messy room as a kid?"

"Kid, teenager... yes. I had the messiest room out of all my friends," Dream nodded. "Boy, that was a long time ago. I can't imagine having a messy room now. It'd be too cluttered, and busy, and... would probably bring back unpleasant memories."

"Memories like what?" George asked, going back to sorting through clothes. Dream glanced over and noticed his piles were growing smaller; he would soon be done.

"Well..." Dream frowned. "Memories of not being comfortable with myself, and not being confident. I wasn't the most popular at school. And I wasn't getting enough support from my parents as I probably should have," Dream recalled slowly. He continued to busy his hands with folding the blankets on the bed. "I was always in my room. The only memories I have are of me playing Minecraft, and talking to people online, and... the darkness. My room was always so dark. It was like a cave."

Dream continued. "I was alone a lot. Just a lil' ol nobody. For years." He paused. "Until I... met you, and Nick. And everyone else," Dream said. "Until I found a reason to work on myself, and feel confident. That was when I really started changing."

"Really?" George asked. "So... you got OCD from me?"

Dream laughed. "Technically, yeah. 'Cuz when I started cleaning up my room, the organization made me happy. So I just kept it like that. And I've been the same way every since."

"Makes sense," George nodded, still facing the other way, criss-cross, as he folded a shirt on the ground and placed it in a pile. "I didn't know that. I guess I just assumed you've always been Mr. Clean. But it makes sense that you weren't as a kid. I mean, who really is?" 

"Yeah," Dream agreed. And that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

-