Once Upon a Lifetime || Dreamnotfound

10

Occasionally, George has to use the lessons Wilbur taught him. More often than not, the other person gets hurt, but that's just life nowadays, isn't it?

He doesn't like the word use. It makes a person sound like something disposable, to be tossed aside, or flushed down the toilet. "Exploit" is too harsh of a term, and "manipulate" is even harsher. George prefers the term "utilize." Yes, utilize, that'll do nicely.

To utilize is to gain something beneficial while making practical and effective use of something. The term sounds sophisticated and George likes to feel like he's in the right. So, no, George doesn't use people, no, of course not.

He simply does what benefits him with a word that makes him feel better about it. To take "advantage of" seems to fall in those lines, but George doesn't see it that way. He does what's necessary for the better cause. For his cause.

That sounds perfectly okay, doesn't it?

~

It's been a week since George has seen Dream. He can tell when someone is avoiding him, he's not stupid, but Dream is like an itch George can't scratch. He needs to effectively handle whatever is happening between him and Dream and put it behind them. They can't have any malfunctions, can they? They're both trying to get to the same place after all.

George wanders down the halls, looking into rooms he hasn't been in before for any sign of Dream. Sighing, George pulls out his map. He scans it, searching for any missing pieces.

There, George sees it: a room left out of the tour. Well, it's not quite a room, but rather a watchtower that has an accessible stairwell.

George walks that way immediately, navigating the bunker with ease. He finds the stairwell and walks up it. After several minutes of climbing, when George's shoulder is throbbing and his calves are burning, he makes it to the top.

He steps into an open room with a small office desk. It's completely empty and a little messy, but that isn't what catches George's attention.

A familiar blond head is visible through the window. George sees the door and walks out. He finds Dream sitting on a chair staring at the sky. There's a rail that runs around the ledge, preventing any slip ups that might result in an accidental death.

George leans against the doorway, following Dream's gaze into the sky. Unlike most conversations, George starts this one. He comments, "It's pretty up here."

Dream doesn't reply, inhaling quietly instead. Unsure of what else to say, George doesn't add on. Up here, above the entire world, George and Dream are left completely alone. A velvety push of wind whispers in George's ears, sifting through dark curls.

After several moments of unspoken silence, Dream shifts in his seat, looking at George. George returns to stare, brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

Dream's eyes are unexpectedly soft, conflicting emotions swirling in green irises. Safe is the first word that pops into George's head, and accepting is the second. Aching gentleness strips George bare, a shiver running up George's spine. George has to look away, the promise of security making him skittish.

He has to swallow the lump in his throat, crossing his arms defensively even though a spark of pain shoots up his shoulder. He watches the sun move ever so slightly, feeling Dream's stare on him. Dream looks away minutes later, and George's shoulders relax.

"I was wondering," Dream mutters, "when you'd find your way up here."

George blinks, surprised. His eyes slide to look at Dream, who traces a pattern on the armrest of his chair with a languid finger. "I'm sorry?" George questions, taken aback at how well Dream has been able to read him.