Love Language | Dreamnotfound

12. Ephemeral

Dream hesitated, before turning around. "I think I should go, I don't want to bother you," but was quickly stopped when he felt a hand place on his wrist.

Dream paused and turned to look at her. She was looking at him solemnly.
He sighed.

"Please, come in," she said in barely a whisper. Dream obliged, following her into the house and sitting down at the table in the kitchen. She was shaking.

"You resemble him so much," she continued, sitting down and giving him a sad smile. Dream felt uncertain.

"George?"

"Mhm,"

"If you don't mind me asking.. where is he?"

Oh shit. Apparently, that was the wrong question to ask. George's mother swallowed slowly, her eyes starting to brim with tears. She started crying. Dream got up, clearly panicked.

"No, I'm sorry.. I.. I didn't know.. look, here, I'll make us tea and that'll calm you down," he said quickly, turning to the counter and turning the kettle on. He found a few teabags and took out two, preparing two mugs. She was still crying.

"You don't have any alcohol, do you? Helps calm the nerves," Dream asked, making her laugh through choked sobs. Dream smiled sadly, adding the bags into the mugs and pouring the hot water into them.

He turned and handed her the mug, sitting down and giving her a sincere look. "Feeling better?"

George's mother took a sip from the hot tea and nodded, putting the mug down and exhaling slowly.

"So... could you tell me what's up with George?"

She looked down, giving him a weak smile, before opening her mouth. "Ephemeral."

"Huh?"

"Lasting for a short time. I always knew he was ephemeral," she said simply, taking another sip of tea. Dream watched her, horrified.

"He has anxiety. Started from a young age with seperation anxiety, which slowly but surely developed into selective mutism. I knew but I hoped, that somehow he would get better,"

"I was losing hope. Fifteen and flunking school, had to change schools, I saw his razor in the drawers and made him swear to never use them again. He never listened," she continued, glancing at her reflection in the tea and sighing. "Stopped talking completely back in January."

"That changed when he started going to your school. All of a sudden, he was much more cheery and even started talking a bit. I knew it was because of you when you came into my house," she smiled at him sadly. "You were able to bring him back."

Dream listened, feeling the pit in his stomach grow into a boulder. He couldn't move. His vision became blurry.

"But, just like ephemeral means, he went too soon," she paused, took another sip from her tea and sighed shakily, "I... I can show you if you want. You deserve to know."

Dream flinched when she looked at him. She looked so tired and hurt. Dream nodded and she stood up, leaving the half drunk mug on the table and walked to the doors. Dream followed.

They got into her car and she started it, driving slowly. Dream texted his mum that he was definitely going to come later. They drove in an unknown direction and Dream kept trying to figure out where they were going.

He realised when they parked outside a giant building. Of course.

Dream and George's mum hurried in, she walked into the elevator and pressed number 3. The two of them shot up and she pointed at the ward.

Dream swallowed, following her hesitantly. They walked into a room and Dream's heart dropped.

There, laying on the hospital bed, was George. His arms were bandaged and he was sleeping. He looked so tired. Dream rushed by his bed, his eyes widened in fear and shock. He didn't realise he was crying until he saw the tears fall onto the sheets.

"George, no," Dream muttered, not caring that his mother was watching him cry over his son. I guess it didn't really click until he saw George.

The blonde sat down on a chair and watched the brunette inhale and exhale peacefully. Dream buried his face into his hands and cried. George's mum sat down next to him, comforting the distressed teenager.

This was the day Dream realised how much he actually cared for the stupidly smart and handsome brunette.

Ephemeral.

George was emphemeral. Whether Dream liked it or not.