feel my hands. (dnf x gream)

Chapter Four: Disappointed

Dream was fidgeting nervously, giving George those scared puppy-dog eyes. I don't think he knows what his face looks like right now.

"It's okay, Dream." He tried, but the younger one just laughed in a high-pitched tone. "What are you talking about? I'm fine."

"Dream, you're shaking."

"I-I'm fine, George." He uncrossed his legs, hugging his knees to his chest.

Mr. Beast had announced another PVP battle between Dream and Technoblade the night before, for $200,000. It was last-minute, and George had never seen Dream so anxious. He was always so confident. Or maybe, it was because George had no idea that this was what happened behind the scenes.

It made sense. Dream usually wouldn't call or text him a few hours before big events, but George always assumed that it was because he was training. He wasn't training, though. He was staring into space, his eyes glazed over.

"I can do this. I can do this." He chanted to himself softly.

"Dream." George giggled a little, unsure of what to do. Dream always knew what to do.

"George."

"You're kind of freaking me out."

"George."

"Stop saying my name." They looked at each other for a little, until Dream checked Twitter for the fifth time that hour.

"What are you doing? The match is in like, thirty minutes. Aren't you going to practice?" His friend ignored him, scrolling down, until he stopped to read something. Then he bit his lip, and continued scrolling. "Dream?"

"I'll practice, just give me a minute."

"What are you doing?"

Dream glowered at him. "What does it look like?"

"Reading fansupport? Does it help?" He asked genuinely. Dream looked up at him, his gaze accusing of something, but looked away again. "No." He mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He got up and walked to his gaming chair, beginning the practice map he made for himself. He ran a command for the familiar entity that George recognized as the Terminator, and promptly began to fight him.

"Ooga Booga? Really, Dream?" He saw Dream's jaw tense, but didn't reply. The brunet sighed, getting up and taking a seat on his friend's bed. "C'mon, I think you're reaching a little. Technoblade isn't that good."

"I'm not taking chances." Dream answered lowly, clicking furiously.

"What's the worst that could happen? Losing to Techno isn't as big of a deal as you make it seem. It doesn't mean that you're bad at Minecraft or whatever."

He glanced scornfully at him. "Oh I'm sure it doesn't."

"Dream, calm down." Sapnap stood at the doorway. "Dude, you don't suck at Minecraft for losing one game to him." He scoffed, making his way over to George.

"Two."

"You don't even know you're going to lose."

"You need to take a chill pill." George declared, flopping onto the bed. He opened Twitter, reloading to see the newest tweets pile in.

He banged a fist on his keyboard, startling Patches, who was lounging on his desk. "How do you expect me to take a chill pill? I'm having another PVP with Techno in like what, 20 minutes?" 

Sapnap rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Why do you care so much?" 

"Sapnap. I can't lose this again. That's downright humiliating."