finding happiness

hold me

ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ɪɴ ᴏᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

:]

george looks up with a welcoming hum in response to a simple knocking on his door.

the door inches slowly open before dream leans his head through the gap with a grin. "sapnap and karl will be here in a few minutes," he says, his excitement coursing off him in waves so strong that george can feel them brushing over him like physical touch.

the brunette moves, shifting to the edge of his bed before standing up onto his feet. "how many minutes?" he asks, feeling excitement of his own thrumming in his chest. it's been so long since he's seen karl in person, and the idea of the brunette coming to stay for a few days has been a blink of light in his darkest moments.

his recent nights have been brought comfort by the thoughts of karl's soon arrival.

"they left mcdonalds like forty minutes ago," dream shrugs, "so they could be here any second."

dream pushes the door open further as george nears him and moves to the side so george has room to step out. they share smiles as they silently make their way to the lounge.

it isn't until george flops back onto the couch with a small huff that dream speaks again. from a few feet away, standing with one hand gripping the back of the armchair, dream says, "how have you been feeling recently?"

the question startles george slightly and, with quiet resentment forming in his gut, he feels as though he's been cornered by his friend. "fine," he answers. he can't help but spitefully wonder if karl and sapnap are really nearby or if it was just a ruse to trick him out of the comforts of his room.

it has become an unspoken rule not to bother george in the safe sanctuary of his bedroom. sapnap and dream walk into any room without permission, and george does the same. his room is the only one limited by the requirement to knock before entering.

george hadn't meant to make his space so off-limits to his friends, and part of him wonders if his need for space only adds to his ongoing sadness, but he just craves time alone. his social butterfly isn't as bright as it used to be. he can't hold a conversation like he used to, not when his mind strays so easily to the emptiness in his heart.

"are you sure?" dream asks. he shifts around the armchair to take a seat and george lets his gaze drift to the jittering jump of dream's knee as his foot taps on the floor. why is dream exuding anxious tendencies when george is the one being cornered? "you can always talk to us."

"i know," george says, even though he has no intention of doing such a thing. he knows his friends are always there for him, but he isn't particularly interested in failing to explain the emotions that he can't understand. he doesn't see any positive in pouring his heart out just for no one to understand what he is talking about. the idea feels nothing short of embarrassing. "i've just been tired recently," he excuses, "not sure why." another lie.

"how have you been sleeping?" dream wonders, leaning against the arm of the chair. george feels like he's in a therapy room, facing someone who has no real connection to him besides trying to make sense of the mess in his mind. "maybe you need sleeping tablets or something. i used to take them when my insomnia was really bad."