warmth [dreamnotfound] | ✓

chapter five. sweater weather.

10:30 AM.

Dream was officially running on two hours of sleep. While the two had been parked in the church, George calmed down enough that Dream had felt okay leaving him alone and climbed back into the oddly comfortable backseat to resume his nap. He slept over an hour before George got back in and accidentally woke him up (which the boy had repeatedly apologized for). He had smelled like drugs and a smile was finally on his face and Dream smiled back, feeling a lot better now.

So there they were, cruising down I-94 out of Chicago. The blond was back behind the wheel and they were put a bit behind his schedule. Clouds hung over the sky in a haze akin to the one George was now under as the thick traffic that had harassed them in the city followed them out of it. He was still a bit on-edge around the intoxicated boy in the passenger seat but had decided it would be best to completely ignore the moment in Chicago. Never bring it up again. It was much easier to pretend it never happened.

George changed the radio station for the third time and finally found something he liked: a shotty pop station with a status sound that seemed to cut in and out every few seconds. Dream groaned when George nodded in approval and turned it louder.

"Really? More of your radio shit?"

"What do you want me to play? Your awful playlist?"

"Yes, please!"

"I was being sarcastic, Dream." George did switch the station though, flicking through options until he landed on something that was a bit more of the blond's taste.

"Hey, remember in middle school when Big Q fucked up the PA system and got it to play the iCarly song?"

Dream chuckled to himself, slightly confused. "No? I think I must've been gone that day."

"Oh Dream, you missed out! While anyway, Quackity was messing around with some stuff and he told the teacher he just went to the bathroom but when he came back, the speakers started playing the iCarly theme song and we all knew he did it but he never admitted to anything."

Dream let out a short, wheezing laugh. He could picture the grin on his old pal's face, even if it was a bit blurry and he looked like a middle-school version of Quackity. "Yeah, sounds like something he would do." His attempts to keep his eyes on the road were pretty futile at this point, but he kept staring straight ahead despite the laughter pushing its way out of his throat. "What else happened when I was gone?"

"Nothing much, surprisingly." Dream had a track record of missing school, whether it was for skipping or personal reasons, so he knew that wasn't true.

He scoffed, turning to look directly at the dark-haired passenger beside him. "You do realize that the last time I was with you guys was around when Wilbur dropped out, right?"

"You do realize that I was only friends with them until high school, right?" George mocked him slightly with a laugh, but Dream felt something hard stab into his chest. His eyes widened and he was thankful for the sunglasses he had placed back onto his bruised nose.

"Shit, really?"

"Shit, really."

"So there isn't much to say, is there," Dream said but they were both thinking it. Their story ended in middle school and the book was never reopened. Until now.

"You're right," George said. He switched the station until something quieter came on, a song about summer which seemed fitting in the warm car at the start of June. He rolled down a window and stuck his arm out of it, watching it flap back and forth in the wind on the highway. He giggled to himself.

"Starting to feel the high, huh," Dream said behind him and he whirled around, frowning.

"No, not yet. Can't a guy just stick his arm out a window in peace?" He poked it back out, eyes following it closely. George couldn't stay upset for long though and his smile returned, laughter bubbling from his chest.