suffocation | dreamnotfound

april 10th

"you're joking!" sapnap exclaimed, a laugh in his voice.

"stop! i'm not. i'm being serious. i think i'm going to die." dream paced his room, the walls feeling tighter than they once did. it was like he was trapped; restricted to those four walls and the tension in his chest.

"hanahaki disease? that's like...not real." sapnap was quieter this time. he didn't mean to doubt his friend but it just didn't seem likely a fictional disease actually existed and of all people, dream was the one to come down with it.

who did he love that much anyways? dream told sapnap almost everything, so who was it?

the texan questioned so many things, but deep down he was trying to calm this sudden insanity. if he pretended like it wasn't real, then it would go away. fake it till you make it type beat. he couldn't face the fact that dream could be gone before he was 22.

and as for who dream loved?

sapnap had a feeling he knew, and he knew that person well.

dream had carried on, explaining to sapnap how he had been vomitting petals and what he found online.

"surely there has to be a way to cure it." sapnap muttered, opening up a new browser so search. on the other end, dream just put his head down on his desk and sighed.

"oh, there's a surgery!" sapnap declared, worry subsiding.

dream made content for millions of people. he talked to people for hours on end. he never was at a loss for words and almost always said what was on his mind.

but this? even the dictionary wouldn't know what words to begin with. how do you tell your friend that you'd rather die in love rather than never love again?

"clay?"

"i just don't think...i'm not doing the surgery. i don't think any doctors around here can even do it anyways, but even if they could i wouldn't get it."

"so you're saying you're just going to let yourself die?" sapnap couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"nick, the surgery could take away my ability to love; my ability to love at all, romantically, platonically, anything. how can i look at you guys and just feel nothing? how could i look at george- fuck." dream breathed, resisting the urge to lash out at his desk.

yeah, sapnap wasn't surprised, but he didn't say that.

"dream, george would want you alive. he'd rather you alive and unable to love him over you dead and cold. all of us would rather you alive. you don't deserve to die." his voice broke on the last word.

"i'm not selfish."

"never said you were."

"but you implied it?"

"that wasn't what i was trying to do!"

"understand me when i say i will be happier dying being able to look at everyone with love than never feeling it again." dream spoke clearly, though his mind was so cluttered.

he couldn't imagine a world where he looked at sapnap, bad, ant and all his other close friends without loving them. all those memories would be drowned.

he couldn't imagine a world where he looked at george without the butterflies and the laughs and the chaos. he hadn't felt so much admiration towards a person in so long. he wanted to keep it and keep himself warm with it. it was like the warmth you get from a fireplace with a blanket wrapped around you, all fuzzy and secure.

so what if he was selfish for it?

it was his life anyways, and he wanted to be in control.

"there's still a chance, clay." sapnap's voice woke him from his reverie.

"oh, come on. you can't seriously think that."

"you still have, what, two or three months? you have time! just let him in! let him know."

"don't ever say that, i don't want him to know. as a matter of fact, that's the last thing i want. going to the grave is hard enough, but going to the grave with the guilt of thinking that your friend blames themself for your death? never. i can't do it." dream was determined to keep this hidden, in protection of everyone.

"you won't even give it a shot? you could live, dream. he could love you. you guys could be happy!"

sapnap didn't see his words as lies. as a matter of fact, he knew he wasn't quite wrong. but sapnap knew he was just wasting breath into the void; his ideas were never echoed back.

"if george loved me back, i wouldn't have this damned disease."

and with that, the call ended signal popped up.

the texan flopped onto his bed, burrying his face into his hands. oh how wrong this had all gone.