💭

He had posted about a personal story of his to the internet, a delicate moment of his life. A scar, wrapping around his stomach like a ribbon, painted in red, with his shirt lifted upwards to show it. Dream takes his time reading through the comments, drowning in the appreciation he is receiving. Then, one comment stood out to him, which read, “This is a lovely reminder not everyone is perfect like GeorgeNotFound.”

Dream has a laugh that bursts out of him, as he replies with “?!?!??” and goes to the room beside his, George’s bedroom, to show it to him.

“George, do you see this?” Dream couldn’t control his giggles, as he walks over to the chair where George was sitting, and shows him what was on his phone.

When George lowered his phone and peeked at what Dream was showing him, he, too, exploded with laughter. “What? That’s so ridiculous, who wrote this?”

“I don’t know, I just found it in a comment section.”

“That’s so stupid, that’s such a stupid thing to say.”

“It’s not, George.” Dream wraps his arm around George’s shoulder. “Come on, you are perfect.”

“I am, thanks for reminding me of that Dream.” With that smug tone altering his voice, with a smug grin on his face, Dream resists the urge to kiss it away.

It was true, though. He glitters under the showers of sunshine, he glitters in the depths of Dream’s heart. His smile was heaven, and he’d give his life to find him bubbling with happiness again. Through the winter and rain, he’d always find George at the end of his suffering.

“You’re very welcome,” Dream stands up, and was about to walk out of the door, but he decides to play around with the situation he had found himself in. “You know, you’re quite the talker. Why don’t you come and shut your mouth by putting it on mine?”

George was stunned. He could see the way his face blossoms a pretty red, red like hot lava, before he chuckles it off. “You’re hilarious, Dream. I’ll find another way to shut myself up, if that’s what you really want.”

“Are you sure you want to find another way? Your cheeks are telling me otherwise.”

“Shut up.”

Dream laughs, before he turns the door handle. It’s not a secret that George is one to dismiss all of the flirtatious jokes exchanged between them. He'd have fun poking around with George, and he wouldn’t move an inch.

“Wait,” George stands up.

“What?” Dream looks back at him.

“I changed my mind.”

About the kiss? “About what?”

“About the kiss.”

“What…Are you saying you want to kiss me right now?”

“Well, you said to do it, so.” George walked towards him, and every step George was taking was another heartbeat that rattled in his ears.

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Do you want it to be serious?”

“...Yes,” Dream admits, as George inches closer, closer, closer, to his face. He felt the way George’s hands rested on his shoulder, touching him as if he was nothing but gold. He couldn’t feel it physically, but the way George raised himself on his toes caught his breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I’m not forcing you, you know.”

“I want it,” Dream blurts out, quicker than what he had imagined, embarrassed about the way his urges pushed him so much to the point where he couldn’t hide it anymore if he tried. The filter on his mouth is gone, and anything and everything he ever wanted was spewing out of him.

“You’re really excited, aren’t you?” George laughs. “Okay, let’s kiss.”

George, slowly but surely, puts his lips onto his, locking them with a feather-like touch. Dream felt his knees weaken at the touch, emotion too much to bear, wishes satisfied, imaginations coming true. He had never expected for what he had been wanting for so long to happen, but in this moment, it finally did.

George pulls their lips away, slowly, as if he was trying to hold back from kissing again; or at least, that’s what Dream imagined it to be. “That was nice,” he smiles, holding the sun in his lips, the lips that he had just kissed.

Dream, with unsteady legs, shuffles towards the door of their house, holding the keys between trembling fingers, unlocking the door. Tiredness was draining him, leaving behind his body completely frail and needing to get under the covers. It felt like eternity since he had been staying with his parents, and he figured that he was in the correct shape to return home, but he wasn’t.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go back to your home?” His mother called out from the hole in the car, where the window was supposed to be.

“Yeah, I am,” Dream yells back, but his voice could not overpower the sound of the engine, so following his response he gives her a thumbs up.

Taking small steps into the house, he views what was around him. The house was dark, with only the television illuminating the living room, its light also entering the kitchen. George was splayed across the couch, with a remote control in his hand to switch between the various channels that were broadcasted.

“George?” Dream asks, in a weak, wavering voice.

“Dream?” George immediately sits up. “You’re home already?”

“I am home, I texted that to you.”

“I didn’t realise that much time had passed, I thought you would be arriving a little later.” George gets up, and after a while, the sound of footsteps getting more and more distant from him was the only thing that he could identify amidst muttering from the actors on the screen and the darkness. Then, with the sound of a flip of a switch, the light flickers to life. George was next to the light switch, but made his way to Dream. “How was the surgery and the stay at your parents’ house?”

“They were fine. I’m tired, though.”

George scanned Dream’s face up and down, and shame built inside of him as he realised how his face wasn’t lighting up the way it does; now, it’s filled with gloom as tiredness stops him from doing so. “How tired are you?”

“I feel like I have been interrupted from my sleep. I want to go back to sleep.”

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“I have, just before I came here. I only want to sleep, George.

“Come on, let’s go to bed. Are you okay with walking by yourself?”

He could feel the way his heart melts in the cavity of his chest; George is always so gentle, so careful. “I’m okay with walking by myself.”

“Okay. Your bed is just around the corner. Come on, it’s not that far,” George gestured to the end of the hallway, and as he walked slowly along to Dream’s pace, he kept glancing behind him, checking on Dream.

Dream was doing anything and everything he could in his fragile state to stay strong for George, though it does feel like a lot of energy is being forced into his legs to keep walking. Forcing his spine upright. Forcing himself to keep his eyes on the hallway ahead.

After what felt like forever, they finally reached his bedroom. Dream immediately let himself collapse onto the bed. However, when he turned around, he could see George turning around to leave him. “Wait,” he says. “Can you stay with me?”

George looks at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your sleep.”

“I’m sure. I don’t want to sleep without you.”

“Okay.” George climbs into the blankets, covering himself and Dream. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” After a moment of silence, Dream breaks it by saying, “I haven’t seen Sapnap today.”

“He went out to run some errands.”

“This late at night?”

“Yeah, I don’t know, he is someone who likes to do things last-minute, you know that.”

Dream forces the last bit of laughter out of his throat, before he was exhausted like smothered embers. “Let’s sleep, okay?”

“Do you want me to sleep with you?”

“Of course I do. I miss you.”

George smiles, as they both close their eyes, and they both dive into the sea of sleep.

---

Dream pulled up his shirt. In the mirror was a scar, a mix of purple and red, running across his waist. As his fingertips ghosted over the mark, the bathroom door was knocked. “Come in,” Dream said.

George walked inside, and looked at what Dream had been staring at all this while. “Dream? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I was thinking about the scar that I got from my surgery, that’s all.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“It looks nice. At least I’m healthier after this surgery.”

George gives him a smile, the light he had been seeking. As George takes a couple steps forward, he takes a hold of the shirt in his fist and pulls it higher until his knuckles brushed underneath Dream’s chest. His head dips downwards.

“What—What are you doing—Hey!” Dream laughs out loud, echoing from the bathroom walls, as George plants small, ticklish pecks across his scar. Though, he can’t help but to admit that the sensation was sprouting flowers within him; he felt like he was in a flower field during spring.

“You’re beautiful, this is your fault,” George grins, playfully.

“My fault?”

George has been planning on resurrecting his YouTube channel, dusting it off of the webs that grew on them. It has been a year since he had ever posted anything, and as the new video follows through, pulling the channel out of its drought, there was one video in particular which caught his eye.

It was the meetup video, the video he would sell his soul to finally be able to film, to experience. He remembers the way his heart rattled his chest, the way he flew to Cloud 9 to bathe in its waterfalls. George was drawn to the blurred image, the face of Dream. Before, he wanted to blur his face to revolve mystery around Dream’s face, to make viewers click on the video where Dream’s mask was taken off. However, now, time has passed by them, and he wants to see Dream’s face on the video where their lives have changed.

Three knocks were heard on his door. George sat upright, realising he had been slouching and only using his hand to keep his head upright to gaze at the screen. “Come in,” he says.

“Hey, George,” Dream speaks, as the door clicks open, as Dream shuffles inside of the room, as he closes the door. “I wanted to tell you that dinner is ready.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll be there in a little while.”

George couldn’t help but notice the small things. How the fluorescent lights twinkle in the green of his eyes. How his beard overlaps the skin that was there back when he first met him. How his hair has grown out to touch just below his ears; George wonders if he would grow it out until it touches his shoulders, like the first time he had ever seen him, or maybe more.

George memorised every single detail about Dream from the moment he had called him on FaceTime until the present day, and he knows that Dream’s looks have changed massively ever since the sun kissed him.

However, he wants to retain what he had seen the first time he had seen Dream’s face. Different from what he showed himself in FaceTime—possibly due to the cutting of his hair—and a memory to keep forever.

George feared that clearing out items due to lack of storage would mean accidentally deleting the first ever picture he had of Dream. He wants to showcase the first ever picture he has of Dream and him, together at last.

“Dream, I have a question,” George starts. “If I were to change the thumbnail of the meetup vlog to the one with your actual face, how would you feel about it?”

“The video with my face blurred out?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I think enough time has passed and I think everyone knows my face by now, it should be fine to change it.”

George nods, and he smiles, as he finds the image that he was wondering about. Dream, smiling at the camera with smugness burning through his lips. Hands on his hips. George, himself, was smiling as if he had found the sun amidst black clouds.

He uploads the new photo onto YouTube as his new thumbnail for the video. Finally, he thought to himself. A memory forever displayed for the world to see.

“Why do you want to change the picture, anyway?” Dream asks, and he finds the question quite sudden as he was more focused on the way the file was getting ready to upload.

“What did you say?” George turns around to look at him.

“Why do you want to change your thumbnail?”

“I felt like I wanted to finally show your face. You have your face revealed, but not in my thumbnail. I want to show the world a picture of you I have kept hidden.”

Dream smiles a little, and George could feel the corners of his own lips twitch upwards. However, Dream started to laugh, and he stopped focusing on the twinkling in Dream’s eyes as he closed them. “That’s so ridiculous. Everyone would know what I look like in that photo. Hell, they could edit a picture of me onto that picture if they wished.”

“But those are edits, or pieces of their imagination. I want to show them the real you, Dream. The you I’m seeing right now.”

“I definitely changed how I look from before.”

“But you’re still Dream.”

George stands up from the chair, taking light footsteps towards Dream, dragging his feet along the floor as he couldn’t bother to lift them up. Any filter he had placed on his movements have faltered, as his arm raises higher, higher, higher, to touch his chin, fingertips brushing against his beard. As Dream looks down towards him, a curl trickles down his forehead.

Angel.

“I’ve been praying for times like these,” Dream admits in hushed whispers. “I’ve wanted you to kill me like this.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you,” George blurts out. “You can’t imagine how I long for you.”

He raises his feet to get on his toes, and his breath passes just below Dream’s lips. In the corners of his ears, he could hear Dream’s faint breath seize.

“George,” Dream starts, before he swallows thickly. “You’re not making this easy for me.”

“No one told you a lifetime with me would be, Dream,” George grins. I’ve got him. “Go on, then. If you really want my lips.”

Dream leans in. His cheeks flushed. Their breaths intertwine. Their eyes close.

And then, knocks on the door. “Dream? I thought you were supposed to call George. What’s taking you so long? The food is about to turn cold, and you know how I feel about eating alone.” It was Sapnap.

“I’ll be right out,” Dream calls out.

George feels disappointment eating him from the inside out, but he couldn’t blame anyone. Time was not on their side.

“Come on, George,” Dream smiles, trying to rid the air of the burning urges concealed inside of its humid madness. “Let’s eat before Sapnap takes your door away.”

Walking around across Minecraft, building a house whose foundations didn’t meet the height of his expectations. Getting himself food in the game, making sure that he was able to survive for the days to come. Making a bed so that he can skip through the nights with ease because he knew with his flimsy arms and inexperience with using a headset, he was no match for them.

He knew this was a challenge that would serve great trouble for him because he was alone in his apartment. There was no one to catch him if he fell, he had no idea whether a wall was waiting for him. As such, he took precautions; he made sure he was locked in a room so that he couldn’t escape, he made sure that everything had a little bit of softness in case he were to knock into something.

As the game continued on, he heard footsteps. George called out, “Dream?”

“Hi!” Dream greeted him, enthusiastically, as he ran towards George. “How’s life in Minecraft?”

“It’s so weird.” George looks at his character. He had never been able to raise his hands the way he is doing currently. “It’s not something I’m used to.”

“New experiences are always fun! Unless they’re not.”

“This is fun, and would make extremely good content.” George smiles. “Come on, I’m trying to build my house now. Do you want to help?”

“Of course I do.” Dream smiles. “Come on, let’s do this. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t really have a plan. All I’m thinking of is to make it look nice.”

“Okay, then. Are you planning to use just one type of wood, or multiple types?”

“I think multiple types would be good. We kind of have to categorise them, though, like which type of wood goes to which part of the house, you know?”

“That’s fine. You already have oak wood, there is a birch forest somewhere in the distance, I saw it, we should check it out.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

He leaves the unfinished foundations, almost looking like they were taken down by the wind, to walk away with Dream. A hidden longing for him slowly builds inside of him, wanting to walk around the forest with Dream rather than in Minecraft, to hold his hand and carelessly walk into nature’s wonders.

They talk about how their lives have been, how their routines have been, discussing music and future video ideas. Once they reach the forest, they collect the wood from the trees, and Dream cackles at how George needed to adjust himself to collect him, computer mouse absent from his grasp and only in his hand a controller.

“This is so—I can’t, you probably look so ridiculous on camera right now,” Dream says.

George chuckles. He wonders what Dream is looking like; he imagines Dream to become the sun when he laughs. “I don’t think I look that ridiculous. I probably just look like someone who is failing a fist fight.”

Once they collected an abundance of wood and almost removed a quarter of the forest, they headed back to George’s house. After a couple of careless turns, forgotten routes, and wondering where it could be, they finally found a brown structure in the distance, and rushed towards it. George, though is regretting this challenge, is more than grateful to not have to run with his actual feet.

They start to build the house, working their way from the bottom to the top. Most of the time, they couldn’t read each other’s minds, and therefore messed up the structure. However, as the sun sets, they have finally completed the house, and both of them were a tired mess.

“Oh my gosh,” George grins. “We’re finally done.”

“We are!” Dream exclaims. “Now come on, let’s go inside.”

Inside the house. George wonders what it would be like to actually have a day at Dream’s house. He knows it’s going to mean a lot of playful teasing and fighting, for sure; that’s how they have always been since the dawn of their relationship; but he wonders if there is more to it. He wonders how Dream actually feels like.

George walks over to Dream, and pokes his body. Dream is someone who is on the screen, not someone he can actually touch. He hadn’t realised how loneliness felt until now.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.” Dream puts his bed next to George’s, and climbs in. “We should sleep now. You have to as well.”

George didn’t know if it was night or day at his place, and he’d rather not know. Sleepiness couldn’t overtake his overwhelming emotions. Time is starting to become a lost concept, as he runs through the seconds, the minutes, the hours, and yet, he’s nowhere close to Dream.

He stands in Minecraft, but he sits on his couch in real-life. He didn’t realise that being with Dream would be a heartbreaker, even though Dream hadn’t done anything wrong. He knew that Dream was only pixels, like this entire game, and he wasn’t someone he could actually look in the eyes and say ‘I love you’ to.

As Dream calls out his name, George must have figured that he had been outside of the house for a little longer than he expected. “Yeah, Dream?” He says back.

“You’ve been outside for a long time, you should come back inside. Come on, mobs will be after you soon.”

“I—I can’t.”

“Why not? What’s going on?” Dream crouches, trying to look at him as George’s head hangs low.

“Sorry, I’m—I’m a little… lonely.”

“Lonely? I’m here.”

“Yeah, but you’re not here. In real life. You’re only in Minecraft.”

“George, don’t worry. You’re about to meet me in real life, remember?”

“I know it’s tough, George. I’m also struggling. But, we will eventually be together, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s harder and harder to be without you.”

“Trust that we will be together eventually, okay? Just trust.”

“I trust you.”

“Okay,” Dream stands upright. “Now, shall we rest?”

George makes a nodding motion, and they move back into his house. His dread has eased a little, and he believes in Dream’s word. Everything will be alright.

“Let’s sleep, okay? You’re going to be next to me.” Dream climbs back into bed, and George follows.

“Can I… hug you?” George asks, almost pained in the way he speaks. Even though he couldn’t actually hold Dream, this is the most he can do.

“Of course you can.”

“Dream? Are you here?” George mutters into his microphone. He was standing next to the area where Dream was meant to be, but Dream is nowhere to be found. He was meant to emerge as a pixelated figure of himself, but all that was there in his vision was the blue sky and the trees.

“Give me a minute, I’m entering,” Dream says.

After a while of waiting, Dream finally enters the game. With a black outfit, shirt covered in white swirls, he looked as if he was made sloppily, pixels flying in different and obscure directions. “You look ridiculous in the game,” George pointed out.

“Hey, at least you can see my shirt.”

“I can’t even see your face.”

“You’re too short.”

“No, it’s literally nothing. Your face has nothing on it.”

“Oh well.”

“Dream, shrink yourself.”

“No.” As Dream raises his arms, he grows. Bigger, bigger, bigger, almost until a strand of his hair could touch the heavens and the sky above.

“Dream! This is ridiculous.”

He laughs to himself, almost as if he had been possessed, almost as if an uncanny fire was starting to grow in his throat, and it’s spewing out. “You’re so tiny, almost like how we are in real life.”

“Get down to my size, idiot.”

“I could just step on you right now, and I’d kill you in a heartbeat! Isn’t that fun?”

“Dream, get down from there.”

As he sees Dream’s foot being lifted, he immediately scrambles from where he was, pressing multiple keys at a time to get away. However, his speed wasn’t enough, and he was suffocated when Dream’s stomped on him, lifting grass blocks along with the impact.

“Dream! You idiot!” George groans, as he’s met with a red screen. All he could think of beyond what had happened was the way Dream was cackling. “You’re dying right now.”

“I know, that was so good. The way you tried to run away but couldn’t and I stood still and was still able to kill you.” His words were forced out from the small gasps of air he was taking in.

“Oh my gosh.” He respawns, with a sigh. “This is so ridiculous, why did we ever give you the ability to squish me to the ground?”

“This is amazing, I can kill you with one hit.”

“Dream, shrink.”

“Okay, okay.” As he slowly shrinks until he is almost at George’s height, Dream walks towards him. “Better? Can you stare in my eyes easier now?”

“You don’t even have eyes, Dream.”

Dream laughs. “We probably need this to be more complex so that we can have my face in it. You’re literally pleading for my face, at this point.”

“Shut up and give me a hug.”

Dream’s arms open, and George walks into his embrace. Though he could feel nothing on his back, he liked to imagine that it was warm like a walk on the beach during the summer, comforting as a thick cloud akin to a pillow.

After a while, a ghost was haunting him by the way he couldn’t feel Dream, and he couldn’t handle its whispers. “I’ll be right back,” George tells him, and he slams his headphones on the desk and walks away. He could hear mutters, but he couldn’t make out what it was.

The door to Dream’s room was opened, and he could see how Dream jumped. He walked over to him, and embraced him. It felt as if they met again for the first time, with the way the longing for him grew the more he saw their characters do so.

“I’m back,” George tells him, and he refuses to let go of him. Dream was his home.

“You’re squishing me, George.” Dream tries to shake him off, but George knows that he’s only doing that for the fun of it, he knows Dream doesn’t want to let go. His movements had not much energy put into them, and he had a huge smile on his face.

“You’re the teddy bear I hug at night.”

“George! Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“You usually don’t say those kinds of things, oh my gosh.”

“What’s wrong with saying them now?”

“You—You—oh my gosh…”

He knew that Dream was blooming red like roses, and he enjoyed putting him into that state. Teasing him non-stop, and then kissing his cheeks to taste the honey on them. And it’s easy to do so, because he knows he has caught Dream’s heart.

And he knows he will always have his heart in his hands. To catch him when he falls. That’s how they have always been, and have destined to be, ever since they saw each other in Minecraft.