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Against hard ground and durable rocks, there sits a tame and silent Sapnap, eyes as shallow as the cavernous seas and the echoing space. The sight of olive irises gazes upon the milky clouds, observing heaven's journey through the late-afternoon skies and the blinding sun.
Like the clouds, Sapnap's thoughts move leisurely. But while it moves at such a turtle-like pace, it is fogged by a huge cloud of pessimism. Pessimism so heart-breaking, so gut-wrenching, and so mind-pounding that Sapnap just doesn't want to allow another breath with the pessimism moulded in his mind.
Sadly, the pessimism is a craving Sapnap can't stop in just a snap of a finger. It's so addicting — so finger-licking, sweet, and sugarcoated of an addiction that can't be stopped without help.
He never asks for help.
The brilliant birds cheer towards the hazy skies. The cordate leaves ruffle along with the others. The lush grass sways to the tempo of Sapnap's heartbeat. The Florida breeze deflects him from the sounds behind, and Sapnap sighs.
Sapnap wants it to rain. To his luck, the rain is impending. When he first stepped outside, the cloudy skies he sees now were cloudless, pure. Clear and refracted. No signs of rain at all. Only the silhouette of the enormous and overhead birds and the rays of the golden sun. He sat on an empty flat plot for several hours, thinking until he can't anymore.
Now, the tears are forming in the cloud's shrouded eyes. It floods in, blurring one's mind into a boiling steam. The sun fades away, leaving without sympathy towards the sullen and estranged clouds. The earth breathes heavy, and each second, the wind screams a saddening cry.
Stale blue fades into the once cherry skies, and Sapnap feels like he's part of it.
Against hard ground and durable rocks, there are faint footsteps from behind. It fades in— creeping in, to the point where Sapnap flinches once a light tap caresses his cold shoulder. ' "
"F—oh."
Easy breaths taken in. Head up, look back, and weary emerald meets with mint and caramel. Sapnap straightens his posture as dry lips pull to a weak smile.
"Dream… George," Sapnap greets the two standing men with cheeks unknowingly sprinkled with heat.
Dirty blond and elegant raven hair dance alone with the wind. The edge of the strands hold the hands of the breeze, waltzing against air. Dream smiles first, patting Sapnap’s shoulder. Meanwhile, George looks up to the skies mindlessly.
Dream chuckles as he separates his lips open. "Sapnap—" Dream says his name.
The word is just two beats. Not even a second passed with Sapnap's name rolling out of Dream's tongue/ But anything out of Dream's lips is heaven. Sapnap can’t help but flutter in blush. Dream is finally paying attention to him. They're finally paying attention to him, until his name cuts off to a completely different subject.
The rain.
"Whoa, George. It's about to rain."
Sapnap descends.
"No shit, idiot. It literally rains almost everyday, now." George looks down from the skies, grey clouds storming together in his chocolate irises.
In mere seconds, Sapnap is already excluded from the conversation. It should be an expected event at this point. He shouldn’t be fueling himself with rage.
Dream laughs. "Yeah, but, have you ever shower in the rain?"
"What!? No! That's gross!" George gives him a disgusted look.
"How is it gross?"
"Isn't the rain, like, dirty or something?"
As George asks, droplets plummet against frigid skin. Sapnap glances up to the wondrous skies, seeing the nearly invisible teardrops falling ever-so-slowly. The clouds finally break, they finally shatter. They cry for needed help and reassurance. But they're lonely. Every celestial body outside has left them to sit there alone, waiting until the tears will disappear so they can come back and run around with selfish positivity.
The thin rain comes down quicker, and Dream finally replies, "it's not— well, actually, I'm not sure."
"See? It's weird. You're weird," George quipped, pointing at Dream with an offended face.
The blond rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on, George. Just trust me. Let's play in the rain? And if we get sick, we can stay inside," Dream offers, tone soft and melodious. Sapnap doesn’t see, but he can sense the emotions in his face, expressed so brightly, George can’t disagree. "Just this once? For me? Pretty please?"
And as Sapnap anticipated, George agrees hesitantly. "...Fine. Only because you begged."
A second of silence, and the blond moves to his feet. "We're going to have lots of fun, George. Let's roll down the hill and do shit."
The Brit follows him, every movement on his feet mimicked. "I'm not rolling down the hill."
They rush to the farthest part of the empty plot, slowly blurring from Sapnap’s sight. Hard ground gradually moisturised by the unholdable tears of the skies. Durable rocks smeared in the saltiness left over. Lush grass grazes against feet, and a sigh.
Sapnap watches with dull eyes. His heart is a void of darkness. He discovers the emptiness of all, the silence in his words. Yet his chest aches, a call to be with them, to hang out with them and not be left just to watch.
But it’s fine. It's okay to just watch. It’s easier this way anyway.
There is giggling from far away. There is ruffling against grass. There is the bird's tweet to flee. There is a singular frown. But when the blond makes a turn, Sapnap raises his head. The world stops.
Dream is looking at him, with emotions indescribable and shielded by concern. Once Sapnap realises his vision isn’t as clear, he wipes off the liquid in his eyes. Quickly, he smiles.
Dream smiles back, turning and racing towards George.
Sapnap continues to smile as he watches them smile. He smiles and they smile and he smiles and they smile. Their laughs don’t help him stop either. It just widens every time the world shakes.
Shrouded eyes flooding in with anguish. It burns, it heats, it melts. They left him without a thought of his feelings, and he can only cry along with the rain. He shouldn’t feel this way, this is a trait of a heartless friend, or a selfish friend. The pessimism clouds his mind. Pessimism so addicting — so finger-licking, sweet, and sugarcoated of an addiction that can't be stopped without help.
Sapnap doesn’t ask for help.
I'm glad that you smile, but when will I have the chance to smile with you?