Loud, obnoxious beeping slowly came into focus. Blinking hard, Dream forced his drooping eyes open and reached over to turn off the irritating alarm on his phone. He swept his hand from side to side, but when it made contact with his phone, the device fell onto the floor, still blaring that piercing sound.
The clatter of his mobile hitting the ground forced Dream to sit upright, and he stretched his arms out as he let out a long yawn. As his thoughts started arriving, Dream realised he hadn't had the dream last night. Or at least he didn't remember having it, and he couldn't feel the remainders of George's whispers dancing around in his ears like he had yesterday.
That reminded him. He was going to see George today, he had to go pick him up in a few hours. The thought of it sent rockets spiralling through his mind, but he ignored that. Not today, he told himself, he wouldn't let this ridiculous tornado of emotions continue. He had set his alarm to 9:00 am to make sure he had time to get ready. Reaching over the side of his bed, he scrabbled for his phone, eventually pulling it up successfully and putting an end to the monotone of beeping.
What should he wear? He didn't want to look too casual, since they were going to a restaurant, but he didn't want to appear too formal either. Why was he so worried about this? It was just George, who he'd been friends with for years, so why was he now anxious to look good for him?
Eventually, he settled on jeans and a button up shirt. Satisfied by this look, he slipped his phone into his pocket and headed downstairs. Patches rubbed against his leg, looking up at him and mewling pathetically.
"Silly cat," Dream muttered, reaching down to stroke her soft fur.
After Dream has fed Patches, and given the bottom floor of the house a quick vacuum in the spare hour he turned out to have had, it was time for him to go if he wanted to be on time to collect George. He slipped on his trainers, and grabbed his keys from the shelf near the door. Waving goodbye to Patches, he strode out and locked up behind him. He climbed into the car, and sat there for a second. Then he took a deep breath and turned his keys in the ignition.
Another thing a spark can do.
The car started up, and Dream pulled out of the driveway. Memories of George were flashing through his mind as he navigated the busy roads, but they were different somehow. What had been nights out with all his friends now seemed to centre around George, the way he smiled, the way he laughed, the way his eyes would catch Dream's and pass unspoken messaged between the two of them.
No, no, no, no, no. Dream was starting to understand what emotion had been pulsing through his body every second for the past few days. Maybe-
No. George was his friend. This was all wrong, all so so wrong. Nope, it was just stress, he was too tired to think properly. This wasn't him. It couldn't be. No.
Caught up in these thoughts, Dream hadn't even realised how far he'd driven, and almost missed the turn to George's house. He slammed the breaks on, hastily turning the steering wheel while an assault of honks bombarded him from behind. He flipped his indicator on, far too late as he was already turning onto George's road at this point. He needed to get whatever this was out of his head.
He pulled up slowly in front of George's house, and was stepping out of the car to ring the doorbell when the front door opened and George stepped out. Dream stopped in his tracks. The familiar smile of his minecraft character grinned back at him from George's hoodie that Dream had sent him ages ago now. He'd never really noticed this before, but the way it hung off George's slender form, and the sleeves fell way past those small, delicate hands...
"You look-" Cute. Adorable. Perfect. Like you're mine.
What the fuck, Dream?
"...nice," Dream finished lamely.
