𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕖 // 𝕒 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕥 𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕗𝕚𝕔

𝟹•𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛•𝟹

Dream's POV:

  My face redded as soon as I was far away from Wil. Good thing I wore this mask!

The feeling overwhelming in my body grew ever so slightly. Wilbur didn't leave my mind, and I hated it. My feelings wouldn't calm down, and my face was as red as the  blood that was shed during the war. That thought lingered in my mind. The war. It was fun, a bit. A roleplay. But the fighting, the planning, the twists and turns.

Nothing seemed right. Why wasn't I doing enough? Why would I ever think this would work? YouTube is fun and all, but my fanbase grew so much the toxicity only greater along with it.

Why wasn't I doing better?

Why wasn't I controlling them?

What am I doing with my life?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

"Dream?"
My head snaps to the direction of the voice. Oh, it's George. He has been with me through thick and thin. He's helped me through it all.

George's eyes wander my face, oh well, mask? He observes, looking more concerned with every shift in eyesight. "Are you okay? You've been very quiet and less active lately....Is something, bothering you?" His voice shivers. My body stands still in shock.

Crap, I've been exposed.

I hate it when that happens.

Everything goes silent for a second, both of us awaiting a movement, a noise, a sign that we're still alive and breathing.

"I- I, I don't know George, I think it's best we take this inside, the sun's setting and I don't really feel like fighting mobs," I manage to speak out. The way I trembled made me feel weak. Great, he knows it's bad now.

My plan was to lie and say I'm just really stressed out, but that's not really true? It's all because of that man on the opposite side of the world.

What have I gotten into?

No one's POV:

George walks along with Dream. Their steps almost in sync. Everything quiet. Quiet as usual. George couldn't handle the quiet though. The aching in his head prevented him from pushing the urge to say a word. And yet, his mouth moved on its own.

"Soooo, what's been going on Dream?" The question almost seemed dumb to ask. Of course something was wrong with his friend, his demeanor, his voice, his body language. Everything was off.

Dream stopped on the middle of the path near the Community House. The silence growing louder and louder. Burrowing it's pain into both their eardrums.

"I'm, something just. Let's talk about this later." And just like that, shot down again. George grew used to this.

Why?

Dream looked past the moon rising, the stars shining down on the land. It was almost beautiful. A scene straight out of movie. He knew better. He knew he just wanted it to be beautiful. Like Wilbur.

'No, stop it brain. We are not doing this yet'

But the feeling never left, the memories replaying in his head as we walked towards the old home he built. How things have changed around here, huh.

They stopped by the entrance, Dream taking the lead and opening the door for George. The petite boy wonders in, turning back around to see the greenette walking towards him, closing the door.

"So, tell me what's wrong? I've been quite worried for you Dream, you're my best friend!" George exclaims. And he was right, why was Dream so cautious? So,,, scared?

Dream sighed, his voice shaking as his brain musters up the words he wants to spill. "I've been, I've been troubles for the longest time now. A feeling overwhelming you know? I think," He pauses for a bit. Silence. "I think I like Wilbur. It's just..." He continued, his emotions showing through slowly.

George listened to every word his friend spoke. How he could almost hear the tears seeping through.

'How could I have not noticed it? Why haven't I looked more into it? And let him suffer like this? The way he talks about Wilbur though... He really does like him. And Wilbur doesn't know? I'll have to ask him. But, I shouldn't tell him what Dream said..'

As Dream spoke, his body weeped. His eyes burned from the droplets of acid falling down his face.

He was screwed.

Totally screwed.