polaroid angel - dreamnotfound

˖⋆࿐໋₊ 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦

"dream! where've you been? i called you so many times i-"
"leave me alone."

he drops his coat on the doormat, stumbling past me as i speak.

"i've been worried sick!" i exclaim, my hands shaking from the anxiety, "you said you'd be home by eight, dre-"
"what- whatever," he slurs.

on his unsteady legs he rushes to the bathroom, practically falling in through the door. it's not a pretty sight. his face looks grey, his cheeks unusually sunken in. he huddles over the toilet, gagging once before throwing up what appears to be pure liquid.

"baby.."

i kneel down beside him, gripping his golden hair to keep it away. he coughs and gags and i just want to hug him. i've never seen him this vulnerable, this weak before. as i nuzzle the back of his neck i feel the cold sweat coating his skin. goosebumps have appeared all over, and his entire body shakes and trembles.

"how much did you drink?" i softly ask, rubbing his back.

he mumbles something incoherent before throwing up again. i can only stay by his side and wait it out, let it all come up. my fingers massage his scalp, as if that would help calm him down. his locks are damp and greasier than normal.

but he's still so beautiful, even while totally fucked up like this. he's gorgeous to me, even in his worst, darkest moments. and that's how i know i truly love him. that's how i know he's captured my heart.

i'm barely upset despite all of this. he comes home wasted, way later than what he promised me, and i'm not even mad. sure, the worry's been eating me up, but right now i've only got sympathy for my honey. i want to care for him, help him to bed and hold him in my arms until he passes out. i want him to be okay.

we sit there for ten more minutes in silence. he sniffles and drools, his lips chapped and swollen. tears are staining his cheeks and his eyes are red, half-lidded. i wipe his mouth and nose with some toilet paper before helping him up. it's a struggle when he's so tall and i'm much smaller, but somehow i manage to lead him back out into the hallway.

"where were you?" i ask again.
"i.. uh-"

i can feel him almost nodding off on my shoulder multiple times as we walk. he's completely out of it. how did he even manage to get home in this state? it's a mystery.

the door to the bedroom slides open when i push it. he nearly trips over his own feet again. i help him get his shoes off before he can lay down. they're dusty and the left one has a faint footprint on it, like someone's accidentally stepped on the expensive leather boot.

once they're off and spread out on the floor, dream falls backwards into the sheets. i switch on the lights in the room to try and prevent him from falling asleep right away. i need answers first, no matter how fucked up he is.

"talk to me, dream."

i crawl over to where he's sprawled out.

"why were you out so long? why didn't you pick up the phone? why are you drunk?"
"i was.. at my ni-"
"no, you were not at your niece's fucking birthday party," i sigh, "tell me the truth."

"the truth is... the truth is that i was there, until seven, then i went to a- a party. and yeah.." he slurs, looking away.
"so you just went somewhere completely different, got wasted and didn't tell me anything?"
"y-yeah."

i bite my lip, shooting him a disappointed look.

"it's not good, baby. tomorrow's tuesday, you've got work, and yet you're still out drinking?"
"i'm sorry," he mumbles, eyelids drooping.

"please tell me you didn't take anything else," i say, voice barely above a whisper, "look me in the eyes and tell me that."

dream cranes his head up with the last of his strength, and our eyes meet. his are dark and unfocused, not beautifully bright and vibrant like they'd usually be. it's almost like i could drown in his black pupils if i looked for too long.

he maintains the contact for a few, excrutiatingly long seconds before looking away again, not uttering a word. the tears threaten to spill out, but i keep my cool.

"you said you would quit.." i snivel.
"i will."
"but when? in a week? in two years? fuck-"

the first one comes trickling down my cheek, as bittersweet and sorrowful as the situation itself. my heart hurts, my whole chest does. it hurts when i see my baby like this. faded, helpless and sinking. sinking down into the swamp water, being swallowed by evil quicksand.

he brings me close to his body, holding me as tight as he can. i cry there, into his warm chest. his heartbeat is rapid and not calming like i'd wished for.

"don't cry, sweetheart.."

his fingers sloppily trail my back, up and down.

"i-i'll be fine, i swear i will stop.. swear. don't worry about me."

how could i not be worried about you, dream? you don't seem to understand how much you mean to me, how much i would give up just to be with you. just to keep you safe. you don't know how much i love you. why is it so hard to say? why is it so hard for you to understand?

i sob thinking about it. the words echo inside of my head.

i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you

i hold him like he's about to fall, like i'm about to lose him. he smells like booze and sweat and smoke, but i don't care. i don't even wrinkle my nose, or move away in disgust. because he needs me, and i need him.

it's not long until his grip on me loosens, his body relaxing into the mattress. soft snores fill the air, and at that i know he's finally passed out. i take a deep breath. things need to change. fast.

carefully i take my arms back, like a sudden movement would wake the sleeping dream up. my caution is probably useless, cause i highly doubt it would. he's far gone, tangled deep in a distant world. if that world is filled with dreams or nightmares, i could never know. but i hope that he's experiencing better things than reality can offer. maybe i'm in there. bathing him, treating him like a god.

i get off the bed, sighing. i couldn't sleep now even if i wanted to.

my phone lies quietly on the nightstand. something is pulling me towards it.

dream said he would do this on his own. dream said he isn't an addict. but despite his empty promises and weak claims, i open safari on the device. my fingers start typing.