Downhill || 𝘥𝘯𝘧

XLVIII

// Art by @notYOISHO on Twitter //

TW

George didn't turn around as he pushed through heavy wooden doors and disappeared from sight. Dream followed briskly, taking long strides to keep up with him. Behind the door was a long, dimly-lit corridor with doors all along either side, and Dream followed just quickly enough to see the nearest door swing shut. He walked over and caught it just before it clicked fully closed. As he pushed inside, the overwhelming scent of essential oils filled his sinuses and he was barely able to refrain from wincing at the intense odor.

Dream entered a small room filled with shelves upon shelves of just candles. There was a different shelf for black, white, and each color of the rainbow. He wondered why the hell they had so many.

George was pacing around the room, hands buried in his hair and eyes wide. He looked like he was about ready to snap. Dream shut the door and watched him for a few moments.

George was muttering under his breath. "Did you see the way they were looking at me? They hate me," he half-whispered, dragging his gaze over to look at Dream. "Do they think I'm an ungrateful son, Dream? Do they?"

"No, they don't. They just don't understand why you said those things," Dream replied in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. George continued to pace back and forth around the room. The space was quite small; even a little claustrophobic. The ground beneath their feet was carpet - dark gray and squishy - and the walls were dark wood. The only light came from a single bulb above them.

"They were looking at me like I was crazy. They think I don't love my dad," George continued.

"George, they know you love your dad," Dream reasoned. "Most people here aren't your family, anyway. It's not like you'll ever see them again. It doesn't matter what they think," he added.

"I do love him! He just was kind of an asshole!" George exclaimed in a voice with more anger than anxiety. His pacing was slowing now and he looked a little calmer already.

"Yeah, he was. And that's okay. Those stupid guys in there don't need to understand you. They don't matter," Dream said. "Forget about them."

At that, George slowed to a stop. He looked at Dream and dropped his arms. "Hm..." he said. "I guess... you're right about that."

Dream relaxed visibly as George quit pacing. "Thank God," he breathed. "I don't need you having a panic attack right now."

George blinked. "I'm not panicking."

Dream raised his eyebrows at him. "You were just rambling and pacing around the room," he deadpanned.

"I was not rambling," George claimed indignantly, "I was just talking."

"Mhm. Sure." Dream nodded. "If you weren't panicking, why'd you pull me out here, then?"

George gulped a mouthful of air and stared at him for a moment, staying very still. "To do this." Finally he broke the silence and paced across the room, cupped Dream's face in his hands, and shoved him against the door before standing up on his toes and fastening their lips together. Dream couldn't move - he was too shocked. A second ago, George was pacing around the room and muttering to himself like a maniac, and now, he was pinning Dream to the wall and kissing him. Still, Dream didn't complain until George's hands started moving dangerously close to the belt around his waist.

"Mmh- George, what the fuck are you doing?" Dream asked, heart spiking as he grabbed George's shoulders and held him away, blinking furiously and mind racing in an attempt to decipher what was going on. George's eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his jaw in a frown. His lips were still parted from when they'd been sealed with Dream's.