Let's Play Pretend - by seasandsalt

Chapter 8: Day Eight

Original Author's Beginning Notes:

// f slur

~

He wakes up with a headache. His brain feels like it's mush, like it's on fire, like it's too big for his head and pushing against his skull. It pounds, throbs, aches, and he groans.

Nick rolls over and buries his face in the pillow. He wants to hide, wants to sink further into the mattress and never have to resurface. His head hurts and his body aches and his throat is sore, burned from the acid that was his words the day before.

He'd fucked up. Plain and simple, Nick is fucked.

He'd... fuck, he ruined everything. It's irreversible, irreparable, unredeemable. His actions, his words, his thoughts, everything was a mistake and he knows it. Nick wants to die, wants to curl up into a ball and cry and never show his face again. He can't imagine how Dream feels.

Dream.

Dream, his closest friend, the person he trusts with his life, was fucked over because of him. It's all his fault and as much as he wants to focus on his own pain, his own misery and heartache and teary eyes, he can't stop thinking about how Dream feels. How Dream felt.

Fuck, the look on his face when Nick ruined everything. He had looked confused, sad, terrified. His eyes were wide and his lip trembled and his hands shook. He had cried.

Nick was the reason Dream cried. More than once.

And he had uttered those ugly words, those horrible, disgusting words. He'd called Dream... he doesn't even want to think about it.

But he forces himself to. Nick forces himself to roll over onto his back and stare up at the ceiling.

Early morning light pools in from the windows - he hadn't closed the curtains the night before - and he rubs at his face. Nick squeezes his eyes shut and wraps his arms around himself, hugs himself as best he can and tries to pretend his arms are Dream's.

He's wearing his shirt.

Dinner the night before had gone terribly. He'd made his way to the dining room alone and found Dream already sitting at a table with his family. They were making conversation, talking with each other like he and Dream hadn't gotten into the biggest fight of their entire relationship a few hours ago. They hadn't said a word to each other the entire meal.

Things had been tense. Dream's entire body had stiffened when Nick had sat down - his back straightened and the muscles in his arms tensed, his jaw set and his breaths were short and heavy. He had pursed his lips and looked everywhere but at Nick.

It had hurt.

But he deserved it. He knew that then and he knows that now.

Nick breathes deep, in through his nose and out through his mouth. The ceiling is staring back at him, taunting him, reminding him of following Dream after dinner.

Neither of them said a word to each other, Dream had just said his goodnights to his family and pushed back from the table. Nick followed because... he's still not sure why he followed. He wanted to keep up the ruse with Dream's family for some reason (even though there probably wasn't going to be another time they pretended they were a couple), but he also wanted to apologize for everything. He didn't... doesn't deserve Dream's forgiveness, he knows that, but he wanted him to know that he regrets everything he said and did and wishes he could take it back.

But Dream had walked out of the dining room without a second glance, kept his head down and feet quick. Nick trailed a few steps behind him, scared to make things worse by getting closer.