behind the streams | dnf

nineteen | wait

I don't respond. My teeth clamp tightly against each other, my jaw flexes, my eyes bore into the carpet below my feet.

"I'm not going to be able to talk to you again until you're actually there. You're going to be with Dream the next time you get service."

I know. I know.

I fucking know.

My nostrils flare as I'm reintroduced to something I'm already terribly aware of.

"You're going to meet him, and you're going to be fine. Okay? You're going to be fine."

Words bubble in the back of my throat and slip through my lips like a light mist.

Only the feeblest feelings are able to find their way out of my mouth. "I'm scared." My voice sounds small.

"You're going to be fine. You have to be fine," he mutters.

The unnecessary repetition makes it seem like he's talking to himself more than me.

A steadying inhale comes from his side of the phone. "What's the worst you could possibly do? Just think about it."

My previous feelings of annoyance and hints of anger finally tear their way through, slightly delayed. "I don't know, Sapnap," I snap, sarcasm dripping from my words. "Freak out? Have a complete meltdown? Lose control over everything I say? I'm going to see him, goddamnit."

My thoughts. My wants. Consistently fluctuating throughout the past month, but ultimately on a steady increase. Immune to my desperate pleas, the increasingly hopeless attempts at quelling them.

The shameful depths of my imagination, the secrets and the desires. He's only been a visualization this entire time, a creation in my fantasy.

To see him for real, a tangible being, right in front of me, to associate him with the version of himself in my audacious scenarios, the humiliation and disgust and furiously hidden lust that overwhelm me every time I find myself slipping into one.

To be able to touch him.

The carpet swims in front of my eyes.

I ball my free hand up into a fist, feeling the painful curl of my fingernails into my palms.

He scoffs.

Abrupt and snide, calling me back.

"You would not do that. Let's be realistic here."

My eyebrows furrow and my cheeks flush. "What?"

"The most I can imagine you doing is just being shocked into silence. You'll be fine."

The edges of my lips curl. "You don't know that." A small part of me feels stung. Isn't he supposed to be reassuring me right now?

I hear him click his tongue once. "You wouldn't let yourself go anywhere near what you're imagining." He speaks assuredly, certain, matter-of-factly.

Annoyance pricks my skin.

I hate that he's matching my attitude. I was more expecting him to try and unravel my worries, as he usually does. Not this snarky and blatant personality that I usually only see in streams.

My hand grips the armrest of the airport seat, my fingers clutching the smooth leather.

"Okay. And?"

A short laugh. "All I'm saying is, there's no need to panic. What was it you said the other day?"

"I don't know? What day?"