parted lips | ✫

︲𝟣𝟤

505 , Arctic Monkeys —

Sapnap only raises an eyebrow, watching George take out his emotions on his pasta. They were eating against Georges locker, on the dirty floor that Sapnap was sure Karl would gag at. Yet Karl wasn't here, and it was only him, George, and... the pasta.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" George deadpans, and he stabs the food in the biodegradable — Karl was proud their school was doing at least something for the environment — container with his fork, and he huffs.

"Taking your anger out on pasta, dude. Seriously, this is becoming a habit."

"Okay."

The brunet doesn't want to respond to his idiot friend, yet he could tell something was off with George since him and Dream entered the cafeteria doors. Could tell something was off when before George sat down, he abruptly made an excuse of sorts and said he had to go to one of his teachers to talk about something.

Yet Sapnap wasn't an idiot and he knew that even if George was passionate about his academics, he would never step foot in a class when there wasn't a set time for him to be there.

"Has it got to do with Dream?" He asks, and nearly comically does Georges expression morph. Into guilt.

"Yeah."

"What happened?" He, asks, bringing a knee up and his foot plants with the floor, other leg stretched out.

George shrugs, legs crossed and he doesn't stab his pasta anymore, instead he inhales it like air.

"Anything to do with the fact he waited for you after practise? Or how you were so set on being the last to leave." Sapnap points out, and he sighs when George scoffs, he sags his shoulders when George shakes his head.

"No." Stab pasta. "I just—" Stab pasta. "—No. I did not wait around for some lousy poetry kid."

"Hey! Be nice, that's still my best friend, you dick."

They smile, short breathes of laughter and tension is cut, it fades and replaced with it are just two boys sitting on the hallway floor, one stabbing pasta and the other wanting to know the worlds secrets.

"Is he usually... flirtatious?... with his friends?" George asks, quiet and he stabs his pasta again, this time actually eating it. Browns flick up when Sapnap doesn't respond, and he finds him nodding.

"Yeah, sometimes. It's all a joke, obviously, but Ruby knows and shit. She doesn't care because she knows her boyfriend isn't into guys."

George rolls his eyes. Boy did Dream have to have a conversation with Sapnap sometime soon.

But then it dawns on him, and then he realises just how drunk they really were that night. Surely Dream would know his sexuality like his lefts and rights? And yet, surely if he did like guys, he'd tell his best friend, Sapnap, who also did.

So why hadn't he?

But then it dawns on him, and George wonders if Dream even liked guys. His mind races and his heart beats slow, rhythmic against his skin that pulsed.

"Bell's gonna go soon." Sapnap sighs, checking his phone, and he scrolls for a while. Though a message notification pings and he opens it immediately. And George is too nosy for his own good, too curious, he sees the profile picture for the contact; a poor angle of— Dream, his dirty-blond hair taking up half the frame, the rest his eyes and forehead.

George tries not to laugh.

Dream | 2:17

is george okay??