Roommates // DNF

25

*TW: drug use, drinking*

Dream rolled over onto his back, his eyes cast up as he stared at the white ceiling above his bed. He sighed, the sound cutting through the silence. It was always so quiet now, ever since George had left to stay at Niki's place.

And Dream hated the silence, he had hated it for as long as he could remember, his mind inevitably slipping away to dark places when he was left to his own devices.

At least when George was around, he always seemed to keep Dream grounded, even if he didn't realize it. He had provided a safe space for the blonde, a space where the two could playfully tease one another and laugh at stupid jokes, a place where Dream had felt safe and comfortable.

Dream only wished that he had realized that fact sooner, before he pushed George away completely.

Dream had replayed the argument over and over in his mind countless times. He knew he had been stupid, to say the harsh things that had first come to mind when he was arguing with George. He knew it would hurt him, but at the time, that had been Dream's intentions. But now that he had had time to think it over, he knew that he been wrong.

In the end, he knew that George had had valid reasons to go through his phone, because Dream knew that he had been acting differently, slowly pushing the brunette further and further away. And he also knew that if he had been in George's position, he would have done the exact same thing.

Because Dream knew that George saw right through all the lies, and he also knew that George was constantly giving him the benefit of the doubt, which was something that the blonde definitely didn't deserve.

The whole situation had left Dream with an uneasy feeling, a sadness that had formed in the pit of his stomach and was slowly growing.

George had been the one person who was constantly there for him, something he had never really experienced up until this point, and Dream had completely ruined it. And now he was alone, left to deal with the mess that he had created, the mess that he seemed to constantly be adding to.

It hadn't been intentional, though. Because when Dream had told George that he had it under control, he had truly believed that to be true. After all, it had only been two days of partying, and surely that wasn't enough to send him spiraling.

But he had been wrong; because just a couple of days after the party, Dream found himself alone in the bathroom. He was nauseous, his hands shaky and his head pounding; and he knew exactly what was happening. So he had texted Fundy, and stopped over to pick up a few pills, just something small to take the edge off.

And that was all it had taken, a few pills that had instantly set him at ease.

It was only a couple of days later that he found himself stopping by Fundy's place again, picking up a few more pills with the addition of something a bit harder. And from there, the situation quickly grew beyond his control, slipping away to a place where Dream no longer had a handle on it.

It was scary, how quickly it had happened, how easily it had consumed him again. And he wasn't sure how to explain it to George, how to let him know how desperately he needed someone to lead him back towards the path that he had strayed so far from.

But none of that mattered now; how could it if the one person who had cared about him had given up?

Dream closed his eyes, squeezing them shut and trying desperately to erase the thoughts that were running through his mind. But his skin was crawling, his body restless and his mind hazy. He pushed himself up with a groan, running his hands down his face as he shook his head.