count on me

a standard morning

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

✭・.・✫・

george drags his socked feet on the cool tiles, feeling how he slides ever so slightly as he slumps his way into the kitchen. he sees dream standing at the stove, his hair ruffled at the edge from sleep and shoved messily into his pink cat beanie. the blond also looks half asleep and the thought makes george yawn as he asks, "what're you doing?"

he carefully steps around patches where she is on the floor, circling around dream's feet like some kind of guard, and hoists himself up onto the kitchen counter (something he always did, regardless of the kitchen stalls just a few feet away).

"making pancakes," dream replied, voice rumbling from the after-effects of sleep- george presumes it's the first time he's spoken today, besides soft whispers to patches. he turns to the brit with a grin, saying, "today marks six months since you moved in."

"oh, right," george nods tiredly- time really does fly. the brit fiddles with the hem of the hoodie he's wearing, which he knows isn't his, and asks, "can rosie even eat pancakes?"

dream laughs light-heartedly, and the sound rises in george's chest like the sun outside. "yes george, she can have pancakes," he answers. "they're the thin english ones that you used to have and they're sugar-free, so it'll be fine."

george hums in understanding, contemplating correcting dream on the homeplace of crepes but deciding against it. he watches in silent awe as dream moves around the kitchen in his pink frilly apron, the words 'shush, mommy is cooking' detailed on the front in black calligraphy (sapnap had bought it as a joke).

the blond hums quietly along to some old-country taylor swift song that's playing- one that george didn't recognise, since it wasn't stolen onto tiktok yet.

"i don't get why it's a big deal," george says randomly after a few minutes of silence, causing dream to turn to him with a confused expression.

"why what's a big deal?" the younger boy questioned, one hand moving instinctively to his hip as he looks expectantly at george.

he looks funny, the brit thinks. "it being six months since we moved in," he clarifies, shuffling slightly on the counter, "why is it such a big deal?"

"george," dream smiles contently, his hand dropping back to his side as his head tilts cutely on an angle. "i feel like sometimes you forget how much you really mean to me."

george scrunches up his face in disgust, shaking his head, "ew, that's gross. stop being weird."

"i'm not being weird!" dream defended, holding his hands up to his sides in mock surrender. "you and rose both mean so much to me, and sapnap for that matter," he speaks genuinely, "and i'll remind you of that every day if that's what it takes to get it in your silly little head."

"her name isn't rose," george corrects, playfully rolling his eyes in an attempt to try and deflect how awkward the kind words of affirmation make him.

dream takes two steps over to george and the brit doesn't even process his friend's movement before there's a hand wrapped tightly around his arm, pulling him off of the counter and straight into a strong hug.