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It was on a night like tonight that Dream finally came to terms with the thing he’d been repressing and denying for over three years, under the same starry sky in the big-yet-small city of Orlando. He sat almost in this same spot, on a dock with his feet dangling and slowly kicking in the water, staring at an identical sky when he allowed himself to say the simple words “I love him” out loud for the first time. At first it was suffocating; the confession felt taboo and horrible, like the balance of the Earth itself had shifted. And then there was a gust of wind, and it carried the words away, and took the suffocation with it.
Sometimes, Dream wondered how far those words really traveled. He wondered how many ears “I love him” had passed through in a quiet, cool whisper that stirred hair and raised goosebumps on skin. Sometimes, Dream wondered if it drifted all the way to England. He wondered if George ever heard it. Wondered if he ever thought twice about it. Wondered if he knew.
That was a year ago now. He wondered how much the stars had changed since then, if they’d changed at all.