dreamnotfound ss

break up, make up

George's jaw tensed.

"Or someone will ask in public how long we've been together— it's never the answer, it's always oh we're not dating." Dream crossed his arms. "Why? Why are you embarrassed of me?"

"I-I'm not."

Dream narrowed his eyes.

"Fine! Whatever, it's just a joke, jeez." George muttered.

"See? It's always 'just a joke'— why can't you just apologize?"

"Why would I apologize for a joke?" George stood up; Dream followed after him, his eyes still soft. "Just because you're butt-hurt over something stupid like that?"

Dream shut his eyes, took a deep breath, before opening them again. "Honey, please just listen to me—"

"No," George wrinkled his nose. "Why do I have to apologize because you're sensitive? And you do things that annoy me too! It's just not that deep— you've always got to make something it's not."

"George, you know I'm only mentioning this stuff because it's affecting our relationship, and I don't want it too."

George rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever, I don't care."

"George—"

"Do you even fucking love me?"

"George? What? Of course I do!"

George scoffed, storming toward the door but not opening it. To his right was Dream dresser; he looked down at all the shit on it. "If you hate my personality so much— fucking break up with me!"

"Darling, no—"

"Then why pull me in here and waste my time, hm? Just because you're a sensitive bitch?"

Dream inhaled roughly. "You hurt my feelings, George— I just wanted to talk about it, I didn't want to argue."

He didn't want to argue?

Then why the fuck did he always have to start something!

It was always 'Don't do this' or 'Don't do that', all because Dreams feelings were hurt in the process.

"Didn't want to argue?" George scoffed. "You always start things! Why do you do this to me?"

Dream shook his head. "N-No— I don't want to argue. Please, baby, just come sit down and we can talk—"

"I don't want to talk, though!" George ran his fingers through his hair. "I just. . . don't want to see you right now."

George's lips quivered slightly— he always cried when the two argued, which wasn't common, but he also always fought back.

Scream through the tears.

"George, we've gotta talk," Dream shook his head. "Please, just for a few more minutes."

"No. If you don't want to fucking argue, don't tell me all the shit you hate about me!" George threw his arms in the air. "It's common sense to not do that, you're so fucking stupid."

"Please don't. . ." Dream inhaled again, his teeth gritting. "Talk to me like that."

"I'll talk to you however I want!" George wiped a tear that slipped down his face with his sleeve. "I can't believe you."

"George— you know I don't want to argue."

"But you do!" George paced back and forth for a moment while he yelled. "You try and act like you're so sweet and that you treat me so well and then you come in and do this shit to me! What the actual fuck is you're problem? God, you're such a fucking cunt!"