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Saturday: clouds of fog ran along the streets of London, overshadowing with morning mist. Busy bustles of individuals close together Like a pack of wolfs howling, except each had their own separate lives… Doing their own thing.
The floor was clothed with warm tones of orange and yellow as the leaves dropped off the trees.
It was cold but warm, not coat weather but neither shirt weather, The type of weather where a hoodie would be the perfect fit. This haze remained until the late hours of the morning, typical England on an autumn day.
The remaining light that was there radiated through the window of one particular flat, the navy curtains not being shut the night before.
Two boys sound asleep, in a bed too big than needed, close together in the arms of warmth and safety.
Love.
Love is what brought these together, despite the disagreement of some people they still went on.
Loud ringing of intruding noise jumped the blonde out of slumber, sloppy hands swiftly tapping mindlessly on the screen in hopes of the ‘stop’ button.
Upon opening his eyes, they were blinded by the beaming light through the window, not being able to see for a second before taking in his surroundings.
Ah. That’s right. London.
Clay had came to London for a while, in desperate escape from the prison he was locked in. Florida wasn’t so bad… It’s just George -The deep sleeper cuddled next to him- wasn’t there with him, the duo had been going out after a late night confession just months before. Safe the say it was the best thing that ever happened to them both.
Dream untangled himself from the roots of twisted arms and muscles, sitting up carefully against the headboard not wanting to wake up the other just yet.
Taking his phone back in his hands, tanned fingers scrolled through the thousands of twitter tweets he had missed while sleeping, and occasionally replying to a few of his friends.
They didn’t know he was in the UK yet, surprisingly, George and Dream’s initial idea was to just post an Instagram photo out of the blue, leaving the thousands of fans confused and thrilled.
Upon hearing the loud and chesty cough from the small brunette beside him though, made him aware that maybe there was other plans on the agenda today.
Clay turned to him concerned while George couldn’t seem to stop, where did he get this from?
Of course this was a normal thing that people get, but it’s definitely not a nice thing to have to live with for a couple days..or weeks.
“Hey..Hey..George.” Dream softly spoke over to him, shaking slightly to wake the boy up.
A quick mumble was heard from George, letting him know that he was awake.
“Are you doing okay? I think you are sick love.”
This made George’s ears perk up, sitting up slowly to sit next to dream, shivering violently in the process.
“I feel fine.”
As if on cue, another series of coughs and painful clutches to the chest followed through. Yeah...Fine.
“George you are fucking freezing, here…” Dream began pulling his green hoodie off his body, although it looked yellow to George.
George could barely get a word in until the hoodie was being rolled up and placed overtop his head. “Dream seriously I’m fine-”
Dream cut George off before he could continue, he wasn't having any of it.
“George.”
Dream knew George didn’t like being taken care of, but it’s something that he felt he needed to do, and wanted to even.
“Dream.”
“Let me take care of you okay?”
“But i’m not-”
“Shush.” Clay placed a single finger on the brunet’s lips, signalling for silence. He was clearly ill and Dream was going to take care of him, end of conversation. It's the leat Dream could do anyways, not like he wouldn't do it any other time.
George zipped his mouth shut, and although he didn’t like to admit it, the thought of spending all day with Dream in bed sounded nice.
“Fineeeee.”
This was Clay’s opportunity to get out of bed and quickly get to making his poor attempt of what he likes the call ‘soup.’ Pulling the covers off of him he scrambled to get up -In just boxers- “I’ll be right back love, just going to make you some soup okay?”
“It’s 11am.”
“And who says you can’t have soup at 11am?” Clay responded, sassy as always.
George just smiled and looked down at his hoodie, well...Dream’s hoodie, what’s Dreams is also George’s so it didn’t really matter.
Since going out was now off the table, the boy unplugged his phone from the bedside table and began scrolling through twitter, just like the blonde had done just 10 minutes prior.
George thought, then smiled to himself while looking down at the yellow material drooped over his pale skin. He positioned his phone where the iconic smiley face was shown, part of his face was also in view as he snapped a few shots.
Posting to his private account…
‘Got hand delivered this last night by Dream, what we thinking?’
Within seconds of posting, thousands had seen and liked the tweet, replying with many caps and memes.
A faint “GEORGE.” echoed of the thin walls of the flat. Then the signature giggle and wheeze george got the pleasure of hearing in real life.
Despite being sick, This could not be a better day. Dream… Actually in his house, months of waiting for his visa to be approved and he is finally here in the flesh.
Snapping out of his thoughts, The vivid smell of tomato soup entered the bedroom.
“Here you go darling.” George giggled at the horribly good British accent that Clay had put on.
“Thankyou.” the brunet spoke quietly as he took the tray and placed it in his lap.
Clay stumbled over to the other side of the bed and got under the covers again, turning on the TV that was built in front of them. Netflix immediately turned on and on Their shared profile.
Yeah...George could get used to this.