Living together | dnf

Old memories

MAJOR TW - self harm, mention of self harm, abusive relationships, razors, mention of suicide baiting. (this might be an intense chapter for some, skip if you need to, know you are loved and you can message me if you need someone to talk to. <3)

wordcount - 1197

FUCK YOUR 2'S IM WRITING ANGST

George groaned as he held his head, he had a horrible headache and stomach ache. He felt like pure shit and wanted to go back to bed, but couldn't. It was already around 1 pm.

"You shouldn't have drank so much." Dream lightly laughed, crouched on the floor besides with his chin resting on the bed. His green, or yellow to George, eyes shimmered under the bedroom lights.

"Shut up." He spoke in a lighthearted tone.

Rain hit against the windows. It was loud, and while George would usually love storms and be there to comfort Dream who was afraid of them, they were only egging on his headache.

"Someone's grumpy." Dream stood up and ambled to the dresser across the room. He had to get dressed to go get some things done, and with them dating they didn't often sleep in separate rooms. Also meaning most of Dreams belongings were in Georges room, including his clothing which happened to get mixed up with Georges. While Dream couldn't exactly fit into Georges clothes, George didn't mind at all. He could put on whatever he wanted of Dreams and blame it on the fact that their clothes were simply mixed.

"Where are you going?"

"I gotta go run some errands, I'll be back in a few hours."

George nodded and grabbed his phone off the side table to look through his notifications, maybe it'd take his mind off his pounding headache.

Dream threw his shirt off in a quick motion before searching through the drawer for his own clothing, which was surprisingly difficult to differ from Georges.

But Georges his eyes slowly drifted from his phone, to Dreams chest, then to his toned stomach, his v-line..

"George?" He said in a wheezy voice. Confidence quickly set in, "Take a picture babe, you can stare longer." He pulled the shirt over his head which ruffled his hair.

George scoffed. Changing the subject he said, "Hey, I didn't say anything last night? Right?" He'd only been worried about something slipping about him harming himself.

"No, you didn't. Why did something happen?" He seemed like he was focused on getting dressed, but he was paying close attention to George without actually having to see him.

"No, I'm just glad I didn't try to strip again, or so you have said I did. I still don't believe you." He lied, and he didn't like lying to him but it was so he wouldn't be worried.

Dream doubted George remembered even half of last night. After a few rounds of never have I ever, George and Sapnap had finished almost all of the bottle themselves while Dream cut himself off somewhere between three, maybe four shots. By time they made their way to Georges bedroom he was completely wasted.

So why not fuck with him a bit?

"No, you did." A smirk crossed his face as he pulled up his jeans, now in search for a belt.  He managed to keep quiet and supress his laughter.

"What?" George put his phone down now, staring at Dream in suprise.

"I'm fucking with you, George. Nothing happened besides what you probably remember." He chuckled, turning over to look at the expression on Georges face. His cheeks burned red and he rolled his eyes.

"I remember some stupid stories and falling asleep, thats like, it."

Dreams smile lured George to his feet, he ambled over to Dream. Dream looked at him with question in his eyes, George brought him into a hug. He'd always request a goodbye hug and kiss when Dream had to go out for a bit.

Dream held him close, one hand on the back of his head and the other on his back.

"I love you, okay?"

George nodded and tilted his head up to Dream, iniating a quick kiss. But Dream leaned back and went in for a second kiss, also a quick peck.

"Please be careful on the roads, its rainy and--"

"I will be, I promise. I will keep my phone out of hand and my eyes peeled to the road, okay?" He knew George worried about the small things and the small chance Dream could get into an accident.

"Okay." With one more tight hug Dream slipped on shoes, grabbed his keys and took off.

Now George was left alone, again.

God he hated being alone, because then he was alone with his thoughts and temptations.

As he sat down he remembered a time when he was with his ex.

George had swore he wasn't going to be around him anymore, swore to his friends and family. But his ex, he wasn't a good person. He'd threaten George, suicide bait him into staying in the relationship. With George avoiding his friends, both him and his now ex boyfriend had stayed at some trashy motel.

They'd gotten into another argument, George promised himself this was the last time he was packing his shit, the last time he was dealing with him. But his ex, Cam, held him by the arm so tightly it left bruises the next morning and screamed in his face, smacking him in his only last attempt to control him.

And it worked. George stayed him for another full year, another year of that night happening over and over to the point where he'd have to cover bruises when he wanted to hang out with his friends. And that was only when Cam was with him, he couldn't tell anyone about it. Thats when the self-harm started, his first time, sitting in the bathroom crying his heart out he took a razor, and cut a clean mark over his wrist. Cam only encouraged it when he saw the marks, calling him names and telling him he should keep doing it.

And after that it just became an addiction. 

Dream and Sapnap pulled him out of the relationship when they saw a few bruises not fully covered by concealer and foundation, forcing him to tell them what was going on was their only choice to help him.

Now he was in a healthy relationship, with the best boyfriend he could ever ask for who never did wrong by him. Yet he still felt he wasn't enough, Cams words would sometimes replay in Georges mind, and often he'd believe every horrid name they said.

So, with the one way he knew how to deal with it, George, made his way to the bathroom, locked the door, took out a razor and resorted to the picked up coping mechanism.

He wished he hadn't thought so deeply about his past, causing himself to feed into every other bad memories.

For every bad thing he thought of himself, he cut a line onto the same thigh as before and hoped that they healed eventually, hoped that Dream wouldn't pick up on his unhealthy coping. 

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