Heavenstruck (Guardian Angel AU)

Family

"Heart been broke so many times I don't know what to believe—"

"Oh, suck it up," George said, breaking two attached popsicles in half. "You can barely tell the difference between the flavors anyway. If you wanted orange, you should've just gotten it yourself."

Dream pouted but accepted the popsicle.

Now that summer was approaching, the Florida heat had only gotten more and more intense. With a week of work done, Dream finally had the luxury of lying in bed with his ceiling fan turned on the highest setting and AC blasting (well, more like trying its best, but Dream couldn't criticize it too much).

God, it was still hotter than hell in this apartment. He remembered always having a fan on hand when he lived with his family; why had he given that up?

Actually...

Dream glanced at George's wings. "You have wings. Use them."

"What do you mean by... oh." George's left wing extended upwards before flapping back and forth.

Finally, cool air.

Dream's eyes fell shut and his lips curved into a smile.

George laughed at that but didn't speak, instead opting to hum the first few notes of a tune Dream didn't recognize.

Dream's heart stopped right when George paused, hesitated, then continued humming.

It was shy, pitchy, wavy, and perfect.

Dream tilted his head away to hide his growing smile.

*

Being at a grocery store at nine in the evening looking at flowers with his guardian angel (who stood next to him bitching about the temperature) wasn't how Dream imagined his life would go, but he supposed he wouldn't have it any other way.

"How do you people deal with this?" George whined, hugging his arms. "It's blistering hot outside, then when you step inside, you're in the Arctic. Absolutely ridiculous."

"That's why you bring a jacket like I did," Dream said as he browsed through a row of bouquets. He ignored the groan and "You're not even wearing it!" from George. Thankfully, most of the bouquets were still intact. It was a couple days before Mother's Day; he had to be the luckiest bastard on the planet.

Arrangement of pink and purple flowers, another arrangement with blue and orange, yet another with pink and purple... There was too much variety. What flowers had Dream gotten his mother last year? White and pink? It had to be white and pink.

"... Dream? Dream. Are you listening at all?"

Dream groaned and untied his jacket from his waist. He handed it to George without so much as a glance in his direction. "Do you think I should give my mom a bouquet or a vase?"

By the time George stepped into his line of sight, he had slipped the jacket over his shoulders and now squinted at the flowers. "I guess vase would be more practical unless your mother already knows you're giving her flowers."

"Yeah, I guess." Dream's gaze flittered from arrangement to arrangement before finally settling on a bouquet of white and orange flowers. He lifted it from the stand. "Do you think this looks good?"

George raised an eyebrow. "Dream, you know I can't see what—"

"I know. Just tell me if you think it looks good or not."

"Well..." George paused and stared at the bouquet. "I suppose it does. You know your mum best."

Huh. He supposed he did.