Prompt: Years after George met Dream.
(am sorry in advance this is the last one)
No one's POV
George was in the kitchen setting up the table.
His wife was standing by the stove, cooking their dinner for tonight.
Their daughter was upstairs playing in her room with her toys.
Eventually, George finished placing down the last plate and called out to his wife, "Hey, I'll be back. Just have to call Clare down,"
"Okay, honey," she answered back.
George walked up the stairs and made a beeline to Clare's playroom.
But she wasn't there when he entered through the door, only toys left played were there laying on the carpet.
He wondered for a while before going through rooms to find his daughter.
That's when he found her sitting on the floor in his and his wife's shared bedroom.
Except, she wasn't there holding any toys with her.
She was holding a dusty shoebox that was all too familiar to George.
With his last bedside drawer open.
George rushed over to her in a panic, which made Clare immediately let go of the box.
He sped up putting some of the things Clare took out back in the box, closing the lid then pushing it in the far back of the drawer.
Though, Clare stopped his hand; her curiosity sparked up when George haven't entered the room and startled her, "Daddy, what's in there?"
Her eyes showed some sort of confusion, while watching George staring back at her, his hands still securely holding the lid down.
"It's really nothing, sweetie," George spoke, turning around so he can look down at the shoebox.
"But- but I saw a picture of a boy, Daddy," Clare explained, "He has a cat! Who's that?"
George felt like his world came crashing down at her words. A part of him wanted to forget everything, but for some reason he just couldn't.
"You really want to know, sweetheart?" George asked in a whisper.
Clare nodded at him almost immediately.
A deep sigh was heard from George, before he sluggishly placed the box down on his lap, as he slowly moved over to sit next to Clare.
Clare observed how George's demeanor softened when he looked down on the contents of the box.
She first took some sort of an old list with chicken scratch-like handwriting on it, "What does it say?"
George slowly took the list from her. Even though it was unreadable to Clare, he was able to do it silently, word by word, "It's how you grow flowers, baby,"
This interested Clare, "Really? Does it say sunflowers?"
As much as George adored her for favoring her mom's favourite flowers, it wasn't what's written down, "No, it doesn't say sunflowers, sweet pea. It's actually calendulas, they're also very pretty flowers,"
"Pretty like Mommy?"
"Yes, they're pretty like Mommy," George chuckled.
George held the list in his hand, as he continued to read the rest of the list.
Clare, on the other hand, scanned her eyes through the rest of the stuff, until she spotted a small cylindrical plastic container.
She moved it closer to her to see a faint green colour, "Daddy, what's in here?"
George turned his head to see what she was pertaining to, "That's lime green paint, baby,"
"Can I use it?" she innocently asked, her delicate fingers grasping on the lid, trying to open it.
But George stopped her from continuing so and took it away from her, since he knew the paint was dirty and already hardened from how long it was sitting in that shoebox.
"How about we see what's else in the box, hm?" George told her, grabbing his attention when Clare now took something else inside the box.
Clare held a packet in her hand. She placed it in George's hand and waited for him to say something.
"Those are the calendula seeds I told you about," George flashed a rueful smile.
"Can we grow them, Daddy?"
"I'm not too sure," George told her, "We don't have that much planting tools, though,"
"That's okay," Clare said almost in a whisper, "But Daddy, who was the boy I saw?"
George hummed before answering, "He's the kind of boy you'd also want to meet someday, angel,"
"Why?" Clare asked curiously.
"He's... the kind of boy who would give you all his time, dear," George acknowledged, holding back a sob, "A boy who would make you feel special- or a girl, of course,"
Clare stared at him and absorbed what he said in amusement, "Did that boy gave you this, Daddy?" then she pointed at everything inside the shoebox.
George nodded at her, smiling.
"Even this?"
His eyes trailed at the last thing she held out to him: a yellow dusty handset.
That when his smile disappeared; that was his breaking point.
He didn't want to cry infront of her, but that didn't mean he had the urge to do it right then and there.
George held back all his emotions, watching Clare give the handset to him.
He didn't hesitate to rub away the dust near the earpiece with his thumb, before placing it near his ear.
Just like how he held it when he used to talk to Dream every 8 in the evening.
There wasn't even a base, a display, nor the receiver.
Just the cut-off cord still attached to it.
"Yes," George whispered out, "He did,"
Unfortunately, he wasn't that good at holding it in, and Clare was somehow aware of that, "Daddy, why are you crying?"
George sniffled, placing the handset and everything back in the shoebox; putting it inside the last drawer, "I just- I really miss that boy,"
"Why won't you go see him?" she asked, "Is he from your office, Daddy? Does Mommy know him?"
George didn't have the heart to tell her the truth, "No, he isn't from my office, princess; and Mommy doesn't know him,"
"Aww," Clare replied, her voice laced with a bit of sadness.
"How about..." George finally pushed back the drawer, "We talk about this another time, yeah?"
Clare felt a bit sorry for him, but understood, "Okay,"
"Besides, Mommy's waiting for us downstairs," George explained.
She nodded, taking George's hand into hers, as they both walked out the bedroom door together.
Still, even days passed after that happened, and Clare has probably forgotten about, George didn't.
Despite that, he never told anyone, that he would go back and open that box every once in a while to relieve the memories him and Dream had together.
To him, it hurts, but his heart still longs for him.
However, there's nothing he can do about it.
His heart couldn't be in 2020 with him, anyway.
YOU ARE READING
《DNF Parent AU》
Short StoryJust Dream and George being wholesome dads to their daughter, Clare. (in most parts I think) Very random DNF parent AU's to hopefully make your day (or not) I literally did this while I was bored again. Enjoy :) Also english is not my first languag...