another revealed truth

projecting

trigger warnings listed in opening author's note

✼

dream has decided he hates textures.

it's been their focus since starting college, originally focusing on the texture of different materials, but now moving on to depicting certain textures.

currently, the blond is trying to use coloured pencils to draw a creased blanket with the primary goal to make the texture readable in the piece. it's impossible, he thinks, and he's not happy with how it's coming along even though he's been working on it all week. one part of him thinks he should start over, but another part of him doesn't want to think about all that wasted time - he tells himself he can fix it.

when his phone begins to ring, he gets excited for the prospect of being able to take a break, though his mood is only worsened when he sees it's his dad calling.

he sighs as he answers, putting the call on speaker and dropping it down on the desk beside his piece. he doesn't greet the older man, waiting for him to say, "dream?"

"hello," he replies, a little mumbled as he focuses mainly on his drawing - his dad doesn't deserve his attention.

"when are you next coming home, boy?"

dream rolls his eyes, he isn't even sure why. "christmas," he answers, though that should've been fairly obvious to his dad since their family has never really cared about thanksgiving and it isn't like he would travel home for a random weekend.

"where are you staying? who's house will you be at on christmas day?"

dream doesn't see the point of his dad asking, it's not like he actually cares. "moms and moms."

his dad scoffs, and dream can practically hear his demeaning head shake. "are you planning to see me at all, dream?"

no. "i don't know if i'll have time."

"you're home for the holidays, dream. i'm your fucking dad, you'll find time to see me," he practically orders. dream thinks that his dad must realise he doesn't like him, and the blond is sure the feeling is mutual, so why does he just dig like this. "this is really disappointing, you know? you've run off to college and just forgotten about all of us. have you forgotten everything we've done for you?"

dream wants to quip back about how his dad hasn't done shit for him, but he knows better than that. he knows there are no pros to arguing back, especially when his dad is clearly just taking his foul mood out on the blond. "i'll find time to see you."

"sure damn right you will," the older man scoffs. "you really are my greatest disappointment, dream. blood is thicker than water."

"dad, i have to go to my lecture," dream lies, refusing to process the heat behind his eyes. he's not going to cry over something his dad says in a strop, he's passed that point, he doesn't let the older man affect him anymore. dream doesn't care, not at all, he doesn't crave validation from the man he doesn't love, the word disappointment doesn't shoot around in his head like a bullet ricocheting from the walls of his mind.

his dad sighs, loud and annoyed, and the sound resonates in dream's heart like a stab wound. "fine. i guess i'll just talk to you in fucking december then, since you don't care about your own bloody family anymore. your poor sister," he hisses out before ending the call.