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Water droplets had begun forming small puddles within the windowsills of his flat. Most people would’ve gotten up by now to shut the windows to prevent any water from getting inside, but George felt almost molded to his desk chair. The clear, quiet pitter-patter of rain in the background was soothing anyways.
He’s been in a discord call with Dream for nearly 7 hours now, and it has dulled to silence with the occasional sigh or typing sound from Dream. The sounds of rain and noises from within their call were almost enough to lull George to sleep. Almost.
He’s been having trouble sleeping lately; there are too many thoughts within his mind to rest. And it just so happens that the person on the other end of the call was the one keeping him awake. Considering that Dream has always been someone who’s able to help him fall asleep simply with the sound of his voice, it’s rather comical considering his current predicament. It’s not anything that Dream did wrong necessarily that’s caused his restlessness, these thoughts involving him have just taken over George’s mind.
Their friendship has always been filled with unknowns: things left unsaid or unexplained. And George has been content with it. He’s okay with the mystery that Dream is sometimes, or at least he thought he was. It wasn’t until a few nights ago that he became aware that he had an issue with it. He had been scrolling through Twitter when he came across a tweet from one of their many stans, discussing the possibility of Dream's appearance being utterly different from how he’s described it to everyone. Which realistically seems kind of dumb to consider. Why would Dream even lie about something like that, especially if he knew people would eventually see what he really looked like? But it’s not like George would even know if he was lying. Dream's appearance for the most part has remained a mystery to him. He’s had to survive on the occasional hair or hand pics from Dream for years now. And it was always enough… at least this is what George tried to convince himself to believe.
“Dream.”
As soon as George spoke the faint sound of typing immediately halted.
“George? I assumed you were asleep or about to be by now. Isn’t it almost 3 am by you?”
“Yeah, just can’t sleep I guess.”
“Oh…alright.”
The silence once again took over their call for the next few minutes. Dreams typing never started up again though.
“Is something wrong?”
George sat still, unaware of how loud his silence truly was.
“Georg-”
“Do you have freckles Dream?”
George immediately blushed and regrets ever opening his mouth, not knowing what's gotten into him. What was he thinking? And why freckles of all things? He sat tense, waiting for any sort of reaction from Dream. All he heard was a soft scoff and what must’ve been him leaning backward in his desk chair.
“Um. I mean. I-uh I guess, yeah?”
He guesses? How can someone not be sure if they have freckles or not? Are they scattered along his cheekbones or placed delicately all over his face? Are his shoulders covered in them or is his skin rid of any markings? I wonder if they become more noticeable the more close up-
“George?”
“Where?”
“Where wha-like where do I have freckles?”
George’s silence must’ve been enough of an answer, he answered after a few moments of silence with the occasional background whirring noises coming from Dream’s computer.
“Uh. Like, all over I don’t know. I have a bunch on my face and arms. Normally there’ll be more that will show up in the summertime…uh but no matter what I’m usually covered with them.”
I wish I could see them. I wish I could touch them.
“Oh.”
“So, do I get to know why you asked, or is this just another one of your random and out-of-nowhere questions that I have now become victim to?”
“No sorry…sorry I was just-uh-I don’t know just thinking. Ignore me.”
“You were thinking about…my freckles?”
“Okay, no. That-that just-that sounds weird shut up.”
“Okay…what were you thinking about then?”
You. You’re right. I was thinking about you.
“Nothing much, just saw stuff on Twitter. Fans speculating about…just yeah random Twitter stuff.”
“Well, you have to be more specific than that. They speculate about everything and anything.”
“Just some dumb tweet about…you. I guess. I don’t know. It’s dumb you should go back to whatever you were doing.”
“No, tell me I want to know now. Obviously, it wasn’t a dumb tweet if it has you asking me about my-my freckles of all things.”
“No, it’s-”
“George.”
Why does he have to say my name like that? Does he know what it does to me…what he does to me?
“Okay, okay fine I’ll find it and send it to you.”
Silence overtook them again while George shakily scrolled back on his timeline attempting to find the tweet that started these profound thoughts.
It took a few minutes, but his scrolling eventually came to a stop. He stopped, clicked, pressed share, and it was done.
He heard Dream’s phone vibrate against his desk as he slowly sat up in his desk chair to open up their direct messages.
After hearing Dream let out a soft scoff and clicking his phone off, George knew he had read the tweet.
“Okay, that’s dumb. Like. Why would I lie about my appearance if people are going to see me eventually? It’s not like I have anything to hide or something.”
“Yeah see it’s dumb.”
More silence overtook the call. George assumed that the conversation was dropped and he was safe to go back to zoning off when Dream spoke again.
“Is there…do you like. Do you think I’d lie about my appearance?”
“What? No. I mean-it’s not like I would know if you were lying about it but that’s-”
“Do you… wish you knew if I was lying about my appearance to the internet?”
“What? Dream. Come on you know that I don’t-”
“George.”
As far as Dream was aware, George didn’t care about being able to see Dream’s face, and it didn’t change anything about their friendship. He was constantly reassuring him that it was fine, that he’d just wait until they met in person. Which was partially still true, it didn’t change anything about their friendship. George was just greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to be able to see Dream when no one else could. He wanted to know this part of Dream that others don’t know. See what he looks like during their late-night discord calls. See what he looks like first thing in the morning or while he’s making his breakfast. See what he looks like when he’s wheezing or smiling or hyperfocused on something. What does his focused face look like? Do his eyes scrunch up a certain way when he’s laughing? The thoughts were endless, his brain filled with want: want for Dream.
He let out a soft sigh. Dream was silent; he was patient and understood that words can be difficult for George.
“I just. Sometimes I guess just- okay this is ridiculous you’re going to laugh at me.”
“George, I would never laugh at you over something like this.”
“I’m. I’m just. Curious, I guess. I’ve been in the dark about your appearance for so long that sometimes it’s hard to imagine you as a real breathing person. Sometimes I just wish I could put a face to the person that-” I love “is my best friend, y’know?”
George could hear Dream thinking. He screwed up. He overstepped a boundary. Why did he have to open his stupid mouth?
“It’s dumb Dream I know. Can we just talk about something else or just go back to editing-”
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long have you felt like this?”
“Um. I don’t really know. I only really started to think about it when I read that tweet. It’s really not a big deal Dream.”
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m hiding something from you.”
“No Dream that’s not- it’s fine. Really. Please Dream. I don’t want you to overthink about this. It’s just a dumb thought I had, okay?”
“So you randomly thought about me having freckles because of this random tweet on your timeline? You randomly decided that after all these years you want to see what I look like?”
“I never said that I want that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
He didn’t know what to say. Where was he supposed to go from here? The silence went on for minutes. He had taken to staring at his ceiling when suddenly his phone began to vibrate against his desk.
Dream was face-timing him.