The World Below [DNF]

Chapter 33: The beginning of the end

Dream POV

The concussion that Dream had suffered during his fight made a comeback when they got back to the house. It was late but George had forbidden him from sleeping for a couple hours incase it would worsen. It felt like torture, he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

He was sitting in a big, gray sofa in their living room, staring at a screen that showing some nonsense TV-show that George had put on to keep him from falling asleep. The brunette was sitting beside him. He'd insisted to stay up with Dream to make sure that he wouldn't fall asleep. Every time he felt himself drifting off, a painful pinch on his arm would bring him back. His right arm would be looking like a colorful painting in the morning.

His eyelids were hanging dangerously low and the forbidden sleep was treating to take over. 

Maybe he won't notice if I just rest my eyes a few seconds. 

Dream decided to risk it. But he practically flew up when two hands squeezed both sides of his stomach, just below his ribcage.

"C'mon man, stick to my arms. That was unfair!" 

George shook his head and smirked. "You suck at listening, you know that?." 

Dream sat down again and let his head fall over the back of the sofa, so his eyes met the ceiling. "Well, you need to come up with a better plan than this." 

Dream had expected a snappy response, but George remained quiet. He lifted his head to look at the other. The brit was resting his elbows on his knees while seemingly studying his hands. The lighting was low, making his hair look black. It covered most of his face. The old feelings had slowly returned over the past days. However, both could feel that the other was hiding something, which kept them apart.

Dream sat up and reached a hand over to push away the hair that was covering the brit's face. George froze at first but relaxed just as quick. He tilted his head to look at Dream and the expression indicated that he was debating on how to proceed.

"Why did you come back?" The words were a mere whisper but George might as well have been screaming at him. 

The inevitable question, one that Dream had been waiting for, but still hadn't figured out an answer to. Telling the truth wasn't an option, at least not the whole truth.

"I – I don't really know. I guess I needed to face my demons. Your past will always catch up with you sooner or later." Dream laughed dryly. 

George's gaze didn't falter. "Then why would you choose an illegal gambling place to be your first place to visit?"

Suddenly didn't Dream's tiredness exist anymore. He was trapped. His mind was racing to come up with an answer. "I needed answers to why my father made the decisions that he did." He cringed at how easily the lie rolled of his tongue. The entire experience had definitely given him insight and maybe even a hint of understanding for his father's choices. But that was certainly not the truth. 

Although maybe it existed something called faith after all. Sure, the lies were slowly killing him. The gruesomeness of the fights and the anxiousness that accompanied the knowledge of the inevitable day when the rest of the guys would find out that he was the guy that had left them without explanation, was constantly eating at the back of his mind. But at the same time, he was actually happy. Happier than he'd been for a very long time.

The lie about Dream's dad seemed like it'd slapped George across the face, and he quickly turned his face away.

"Clay?" Dream barely registered that he was talking to him due to the use of his real name. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Yeah, what's up?"