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word total for this chapter: 1416
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My breathing is heavy, and I'm falling slightly behind Dream, his longer legs carrying him further with each stride. When the weather slowly starts to feel colder, we slow slightly, more to a fast walk.
Picking our way through the trees, avoiding the thick roots and low hanging branches, we walk for hours, until the temperature feels almost normal.
"We should probably eat." Dream says as we come to a small clearing in the trees. It's a small field with some flowers and a small pond.
Such a shame that it'll be destroyed soon. I think to myself.
I nod in agreement to his comment, my stomach growling loudly. We settle in the middle of the field, flowers and tall grass surrounding us easily. I set my pack down next to me, unzipping the compartment and pulling out something small for me to eat.
Dream does the same, offering me some of his. I decline with a shake of my head, but I offer him some of mine in response.
What he does surprises me. He leans forward, lifting the bottom of his mask just enough to reveal his mouth, and takes a bite. My mouth drops open, but I'm not sure if it's from surprise or disbelief that he actually did that.
He chuckles, a small wheeze escaping his mouth. I huff dramatically, rolling my eyes at him. We finish our food, and each of us drain a bottle of water, throwing the empty bottles back into our bags.
My legs and feet start to ache again as we walk for a few more hours. Just as the sun starts to wane, we decide to take another break, finding some thick tree cover to settle under.
"George..." Dream breaks the silence, his tone questioning, full of uncertainty. I look up at him, momentarily freezing.
"Why didn't you want me touching your knife when we first met? You were adamant that I couldn't take it." His tone is nothing but curiosity, and I know he's not trying to pry.
I open my mouth, yet I pause before speaking. Do I really want him to know this? It's very personal.
"It was a gift." I say simply, looking away from his gaze.
"From who?" Dream's voice is soft, cautious. He's trying not to push me too far.
"My best friend. He gave it to me before..." I assume he can guess the rest. He lets out a soft oh, and drops the subject, getting back to clearing a spot on the ground to sleep on.
"It's pretty." He says quietly, and I look over at him, yet he's not looking back at me.
"He carved it himself." My voice sounds small in the silence of the evening. His hands stop for a moment, and Dream's head seems to fall slightly. I can tell that his mind is working at the speed of light, and he's trying to figure out the correct response.
"Do you want to tell me about him..?" Dream asks, looking up at me. I look away, and down at my hands, busying them with anything. Debating with my inner thoughts, I think about the pros and cons of telling him.
Pro: You'll finally have someone to grieve with. He's experienced similar things, and he cares about you. Maybe he can help.
Cons: What if he doesn't care as much as I think he does? What if he just makes fun of me, or doesn't understand?
Inhaling deeply, I finally decide to just tell him.
"I always called him Sapnap. We've been best friends since childhood." I say, looking anywhere but at him. "We were genuinely inseparable; the schools hated us, we always got into trouble together."
Smiling softly, I stop for a moment, my mind drifting back to happier days. Sap and I toilet papering our least favorite teacher's house. Running from the police after she came outside and caught us. Almost getting beat by our parents.
Ahh. The good old days.
Snapping back into reality, my smile falls slightly, the truth sinking in once again. A deep pit forms in my stomach, and I sigh deeply, my heart hurting. Dream says nothing for a moment, clearly mulling over his response thoroughly.
"I had a friend like that once. We drifted a lot over the years, though. I wonder what's happened to him now..." He wonders, not asking anyone in particular. A sudden question crosses my mind, and it sits on the edge of my lips.
I'm just barely able to stop it from coming out when I start to think about what could come from it.
Fuck it. What's the worst that can happen?
"Dream?" I ask, and Dream turns to me once more, and although I can't see his face, I can tell he's giving me a questioning look, waiting for my response.
"Do you think you'll ever let me see your face..?" I ask cautiously, turning away from his gaze. He seems to freeze for a moment, and I tense, hoping that I didn't make him upset by asking.
Dream seems to debate with himself for a moment, and I can hear him moving around, keeping his hands busy. He hums for a second, and then he stops.
"George." He says, his voice small. I hum in response, scrounging through my pack, double and triple checking my supplies.
"George." Dream says again, this time more confidently. Just as I turn and am about to mumble out a what, I notice that he has his mask off.
My jaw drops open.
Jesus Christ, this man is beautiful. Is my first thought. And to say I'm embarrassed by that is an understatement.
He wheezes, snapping me back to present. I close my mouth, swallowing hard.
"Woah." Is all I can manage to get out. Taking a step closer, I reach my hand out absentmindedly, running my fingertips along the edge of his jaw, and then down his cheek bone, and over the bridge of his nose.
Just as I swipe the pad of my thumb on his cheek, just below his eyes, his hand catches mine, and I realize what an awkward action this is. I blush deeply and try to pull away, but Dream's grip is firm.
My eyes meet his for the first time, and I realize just how pretty they are. They're a light green blue with very light brown in the centers.
His hold on my hand loosens, and I pull my hand from his, yet I don't step back like I was thinking of doing before. This time, instead of tracing the prominent features of his face, I run the tip of my index finger along each of the scars on his face.
It comes to my attention just how many there are, and how different each of them are.
I want to memorize his face. The thought hits me like a ton of bricks, and I'm left breathless for a few seconds. His eyes seem to search my face, and I notice how expressive he really is.
I always assumed his emotion from his body language but his face shows so much more emotion than I thought it would.
You're so pretty... I think to myself, catching new aspects of his face and his skin by the second.
Suddenly, his eyes light up and his mouth cracks open. Dream starts laughing, his iconic wheeze filling my ears.
"Thank you, Georgie." He says teasingly, and I start for a moment, confused.
"You said I was pretty." Dream defends, and my eyes widen. I close my eyes slowly, wanting to curl into a ball and die. I can't believe I said that out loud.
"You're stupid." I say defensively, looking away, taking a small step back. It's then that I realize how close we had been previously. He seems to notice at the same time.
My entire face feels like it's on fire, and Dream's looks similar. Moments pass, and our eyes remain locked. He finally breaks the silence, stepping forward slightly. We're so close that our chests almost touch, and I have to look up to maintain eye contact.
Dream holds his arms out slightly, silently asking for a hug. I accept and sink into his touch, my head tucked into the side of his neck. His arms are tight around me, and I hold him just the same.
We'll get through this. The voice in my head tells me. And I believe it.
YOU ARE READING
into fire (dreamnotfound) (complete)
Fanfiction(BOOK ONE OF THE SALVATION SERIES) george has been running for days on end. he's all alone on his journey, and he can't stop for long. or they'll catch up. and he'll be dead. what he doesn't expect, is to come along someone else fleeing, just the sa...
