Day One

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George POV

"Then I'll jump with you. We'll both end it together." 

A light breeze lifted their hair, Dream's emerald eyes never leaving George's mocha ones. The brunette's breath caught. "Why would you do that?"

"I care for you, do I need any other reason?" Dream's voice was soft, the words hanging on the night air.

George was tempted to remind him that they hadn't talked in two years, but he couldn't find the energy to argue. White teeth sank into a soft pink lip, fighting against his blurring vision. "That's stupid."

"You did used to call me an idiot a lot." Dream laughed, the sound still holding its tea-kettle wheeze. 

George stayed silent, that little voice in his head still trying to convince him to just jump anyways.

Dream seemed to read his mind, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze. "Oh, c'mon now. What's one week going to hurt?" 

George felt a single tear slip down his cheek. I care for you. Dream's voice echoed endlessly, and George wished he could bring himself to believe it, that someone in this world still cared. Instead, the words were swallowed by that black void.

Still, he found himself turning his arm in Dream's grip, grasping the dirty blond's wrist in his hand. His reply fell from his lips in a soft breath.

"Okay. Seven days."

Next Morning

Sunlight trickled through the blinds of an unfamiliar room. George shifted in the warm blankets, the ache in his chest making him feel sick to his stomach. It took a moment for the night's events to crash over him.

He tried to jump off a bridge, but a familiar face stopped him.

Seven days, Dream's voice rang through his mind. Seven days to make you want to live.

George didn't understand why Dream would make such a dangerous deal, but he figured the dirty blond would back out from jumping anyways. 

A light knock on the door interrupted George's thoughts. 

"Georgie? Are you awake?" Dream called softly.

George dragged himself from bed, turning the knob to see a very tall, smiling idiot. 

"Good morning." Dream's sharp canine teeth glinted in the early morning sunlight streaming through the windows. "Come eat breakfast." 

George wanted to say no, but Dream nudged him into a kitchen that smelled sweetly of freshly cooked pancakes. Dream hadn't asked him many questions last night, only that he shouldn't be alone at night. George had told him it didn't matter, since he lost his dorm room after he'd flunked out of college. Dream immediately offered to let George stay with him in his apartment. Luckily the dirty blond had a guest room for when his sister visited him. 

When they'd arrived at Dream's apartment, Dream simply told him to rest for the night, and that they'd talk in the morning. George hadn't missed the way Dream removed anything sharp or dangerous from sight before leaving him alone to sleep. 

Now he was sitting at a polished wood table, a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him. George stared blankly at the fluffy golden brown Mickey Mouse shape. Dream placed a syrup bottle next to George's plate, along with a glass of water, before sitting across from the brunette with his own plate.

He didn't start eating yet, though, instead watching George carefully with his head on his hand. 

George felt his skin itch under the inquisitive green gaze, picking up his fork and cutting a small piece of the pancake's ear. Dream smiled, head tilting to the side. 

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