Chapter Text
George is talkative, which is what Dream first registers while walking him to first aid. Despite being tear-stained with new trails of them frequently descending down his pink, full cheeks. His mouth runs on its own accord, leaking rose peals of broken conversation with his silver skin leaking gold-laced blood from his nose, smudging his milky skin with shades of carnation crowning his cupid's bow.
As much as Dream hates to admit it, George’s words are sweet and flow from his tongue like honey, rolling syllables like smooth pastry dough and delicate as his accent curls around certain words, voice resembling the deep pluckings of a harp as he drones on and on with careless conversation. Dream grows to enjoy his rambling, walking him even slower on purpose just to hear him talk more.
George’s speech is lively, lilting words with tones of expression and noises of exasperation as he complains, but his soft eyes and gentle voice betray his annoyance and roundhis words with silk hands, smoothing down his harsh words and sounding so pure and melodic to Dream’s ears.
The brunet, still gesticulating wildly, carries on as Dream listens ever so intently, “— It’s honestly just ridiculous how people expect me to conform to their demands. It’s so nice to have someone actually listen to me, y’know? It means a lot, especially since I know I tend to ramble, but you’re so much better than everyone else, Dream.”
That makes licking flames light in Dream’s stomach, burning with heavy agreement as the words go straight to his ego, inclining him more to George and wrapping his stomach in fiery affirmation. Maybe it’s just that sentence alone that makes Dream want to swoop George up in his arms, thank him for finally realising what Sapnap had failed to, quickly lighting his face in a grin and nodding.
“Thank you, and yeah, everyone at this school sucks, honestly. I’m glad I met you, it’s nice to have a breather from all the…”
“Oh, yeah, for sure!” George agrees, “I know exactly what you mean. You’re so good at wording things, probably more eloquent than so many more people here.”
Dream hums with a stupidly big grin, “Oh my God, George, you are so sweet, man.”
George laughs up at him, “I’m being serious! Not to mention, everyone is so— so— poor, too. I make sure to get driven to school in a limo just to flaunt that I’m better than everyone.”
“A limo!” Dream guffaws, turning right as they make their way down the hall where the first aid office is, “Y’know what? Good on you, George, show everyone how much better than them you are. I’d do that too, honestly.”
Leading him into the office, he carefully sits George down, his guarding hands on his arms, and demanding the nurse, “My friend is having a nosebleed, help him out!”
An ice pack and pack of tissues is thrown at him, and he fumbles to catch it as languid typing and buzzing lights fill the air. Dream softly casts George a smile, kneeling down and wiping at George’s nose and hands shaking from how close they are to George’s lips. George doesn’t notice the tremble in Dream’s hands, jutting his sweet face so sweetly outwards and looking up at Dream with a bright expression.
George pinches his nose shut as the remnants of blood are wiped away, leaning his head forwards as Dream laughs at his unfortunate position. “Having fun there?”
“This isn’t funny,” George lightheartedly comments, sounding nasally from his pinched nose.
“It kinda is.”
A set of light footsteps make their way to the first aid office. A man bursts through the door, round-faced and tall with thick hair and mutton-chop beard, bearing a snapback and sports jersey. He pushes the door open, and it slams against the wall loudly, announcing the man’s arrival. He pants, red-faced with exhaustion and he stands there, chest heaving.
George looks at Dream with a confused expression, Dream returning it.
The man falls over, holding the door open with his body and going limp.
Sapnap follows after him, disgusted as he steps over the body and calls over his shoulder, “Yo, Schlatt just died!”
A group of boys, definitely unknown to either George, Dream or Sapnap walk by, cheering loudly and pumping their fists into the air. They continue walking on as Sapnap walks in, giving Dream a dirty look.
Following the charcoal-haired boy comes in a light-blond with bright blue eyes.
“Punz,” Sapnap laughs, turning to his friend, “Look at this quirky loser.” He points at Dream, and George furrows his eyebrows.
George lets go of his nose, blood no longer leaking out as he stands and says, “What the hell? Dream is a really nice dude, better than you! Get the fuck out of here with your one friend, Sapnap, I know for sure I don’t want to be friends with a fucking moron like you. Yeah he’s quirky, but he’s not like other boys. Basic fuckhead.”
Dream leaps up, taking George in his arms and flipping the bird at Sapnap once he lets go. “Fuck you! I told you!”
George laughs as Sapnap leaves. The ice pack is left on one of the other chairs, melted and unused as Dream hands it back to the nurse.