Mark My Words || DNF Soulmate AU

Chapter 50

The three notes indicating an outgoing Discord call ring once, twice, and almost topple into its third rotation before being rudely cut short. The previously dimmed profile picture lights into its full saturation as a gentle wave of white noise sets the tone for the call.

Perhaps a blow to the Discord composer's musical talents, the interruption of the melody is anything but upsetting for George, who sits to full attention as he leans closer to the screen.

"Dream?"

"George? Hello?"

The gentle tug on the corners of George's lips transition into a full smile at the familiar greeting, and a little part of his brain lights up at the presence of Dream.

"Hi," George replies, careful not to channel too much of his excitement into his voice, "How are you?"

"Eh, good enough," Dream replies, a lazy half-smile tainting his lips as he rubs at his face, "How was your meeting?"

George doesn't let himself be pulled into the primary reason for the call just yet, instead taking time to notice that Dream is talking slower than usual, his voice lower in pitch to match the pace change. The detective in him takes a second to conclude it must be from sleep.

"Did you just wake up?" George asks, "You sound tired."

"Really?" Dream clears his throat a little self-consciously, "I woke up half an hour ago."

George quirks an eyebrow in interest, never one to miss an opportunity to tease.

"Sleeping in the morning?" George tsks playfully in admonishment, "Are you turning into me?"

Dream laughs at George's self-deprecating jab and rolls his eyes, "I'm not turning into you. I just have a bad sleep schedule. You know that."

"Well if you think about it," George ponders, suddenly caught up in the matters of analyzing his and Dream's sleeping patterns, "I sleep a lot and at weird times because of you, and you have a bad sleep schedule because you're turning into me. So we're causing each other to be more unhealthy and prone to sudden death."

"What?" Dream utters his customary reaction to unexpected information, "First of all, I'm not turning into you. Second of all, why would you remind me that having a bad sleep schedule actually has a long-term effect on my health."

George giggles, "Because you should take care of yourself and not die young."

"Okay Mr. Always-Awake-at-the-Ass-Crack-of-Dawn," Dream rebukes, almost laughing through his own wordy invention of a nickname, "Whatever you say."

George nods loftily, the way a king might acknowledge the presence of some second-tier aristocrat, "That's more like it."

Their banter dissolves into a more casual conversation that, in George's later memory, sounds more like jumbled amalgamations of words than any actual intellectual exchange happening. Still, it's comfortable, and George settles into the mood snugly.

"So, the meeting?" Dream brings up once again after light chatter and random small-talk, "Update me on what happened after you panic-texted me at the shop then told me I was of no help."

Still buried in safe and happy feelings and infinitely less jittery than when he was at the coffee shop earlier in the day, George decides he'll be nice for a change, "I'll admit maybe you were of a little help. But I did not panic-text you. That was a very logical and rational decision made in the best interest of my meeting."

If George had a conversation with a clone of himself, the truth is, he's pretty sure they would never actually get anywhere, always more interested in picking little fights and dissecting minuscule matters of importance rather than following the main path of discussion. He already has a slight idea of how that would work out.