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TW: Sexual assault

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George barely got any sleep that night. He was awake when Sapnap came back at a bit over 3 AM. Although he wanted to know how the man's date went, he couldn't bring himself to move. He was awake when Dream came into the room and headed to the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind him, preventing the light from entering the dark space.

He hears the shower turn on and exhales, resting the back of his head against the rough texture of the wooden headboard. He wasn't able to get his thoughts straight. The Brit didn't know if he wanted to at the moment. Before he can make up his mind, Dream comes out of the shower, making a beeline for his side off the soft mattress. George watches as the man tucks his arms underneath his pillowcase, his breathing slowing into a steady rhythm as he falls asleep almost immediately.

The brunette lifts his legs out of the warm comforter and steps out of the massive bed. Taking his pillow with him, he ventures out into the hall, deciding to go into the living room. He considers settling down on the couch but eventually sits on the floor, right next to the double view windows that extend from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. It felt like he was sitting on air. Nice and quiet. Peaceful.

George always did his best work at night. Whether it was contemplating the next video or editing the latest one, he always had the best ideas after the sun was far beneath the horizon. Following the trend, his thoughts also became clearer, more understandable.

If only these kinds of thoughts were easy to understand. He leans his cheek against the cool glass, looking out at the bustling city that was alive with light and the occasional honk from the ceaseless traffic. He lets his thoughts run back to the feeling he had suppressed earlier. It was quite hard to describe. Sort of like...what someone with a crush would think.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of gasoline on the already growing spark of fear in his chest. He couldn't have a crush on his friend, his best friend. He wonders what Dream would think if he came to know what was on his mind. He hadn't really confirmed anything outright, but the idea of him being straight was pretty heavily implied.

That wasn't the bother at the moment. George had always been sure he was straight, even confirming it on multiple streams. He had never really thought about it too much because he never had to. Now all that security was out the window. It feels like his fright has shackled him to the floor. He had read something, maybe a news article online about the effects of paranoia. The mind becomes scattered and unfocused, hijacking the ability for logical thinking. But he doesn't think of that because of the all-consuming fear clouding over everything other than the thought of,

"I could lose him." George murmurs into the night, swallowing with difficulty.

That can not, and will not happen. He won't allow it. Dream had always been the light at the end of the tunnel. The man's kindness and friendship brought him out of his darkest moments and he has stuck with him, celebrating his best moments. They loved and trusted each other, there was no secret George wouldn't divulge to Dream.

Other than this one. No, he will shove this down. So far down that he himself will forget the very memory of it being there in the first place. It had taken a long time to realize, but he knew he meant as much to Dream as the man meant to him. So, if forgetting his useless feelings is what it takes to keep their friendship, he would be selfish to do anything otherwise.

The brunette sighs, fogging up the spotless glass. He could use a drink. Running a hand through his tangled waves, he picks himself up, shaking away the unpleasant tingles of pain that shot up his leg. He didn't want to fall asleep there and risk someone finding him.

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