Your Ghost ? Sequel to Text Back

<<As always, song is inspo.

Enjoy💖>>

It had been a week or so since the call with Sapnap and George was getting, well, restless.

He spent his time aimlessly floating around, the feeling of needing to do something but not knowing what gnawing at his bones.

At the moment, George was sitting on Dream's bed, watching him work on something at his desk. George pulled his legs up to his chest, fidgeting with the cuffs on his jeans.

"Dream?" George called out to his hoodie clad boyfriend, wincing at how lifeless his voice sounded.

Dream whirled around, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes my darling?"

His voice was shaky. He had bags under his eyes.

When was the last time George saw Dream sleep?

"Are you okay?" his voice was soft but his question held weight.

Dream froze. It was almost like George had taken a picture of him. The film in his camera must've been expired though, because the Dream he knew didn't have bags under his eyes and the stubble of an unshaven face.

"Of co..." his voice stopped halfway through his sentence. George could practically hear the gears in Dream's mind turning and interlocking.

"I'm fine," he finally said, his voice firm but quiet, "I'm fine."

He wasn't fine. George could tell. But he didn't want to push so he laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

That night, George stayed in Dream's room for the first time in a while.

He usually spent his nights in the basement, pacing the same route he had walked so many times that every step had become muscle memory.

Something about it just called to him, pulled him in like the light at the end of the tunnel.

He silently got out of bed, kneeling down on the floor in front of his boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

It was a strange word.

Girlfriend.

Joyfriend.

Strange words for a strange concept.

A promise as fragile as a dandelion and as infectious as a weed.

And whether the flower blooms or wilts, there's always an ending.

George was startled out of his thoughts by a light turning on in the hallway. He glanced down at the bed where his lover lay, only to find tangled bedsheets and a warm pillow.

The clock on the bedside table blinked red, a weary sigh leaving George's throat as he read the time.

"Dream..." George looked into the hallway again, only to see a dark figure blocking the light.

He began to walk towards it, when something caught his attention.

Dream was taller than that.

Thats not Dream.

George's eyes widened, fear sinked its fangs into his skin, and he gasped.

Who is that?

Where is Dream?

George looked back at the shadow, a shiver running down his spine as he realised that it was gone, and his Dream stood in it's place.

"Dream-" he ran into Dream's arms, hugging him as tightly as a ghost could hug a human.

To his surprise, Dream hugged back.

He felt warm.

So, so warm.

George never wanted to leave his side again. He felt safe, loved, protected.

Dream gently pulled away after a few moments, placing a hand upon George's cheek. George hesitated before leaning into it. He took a shaky breath, fighting back tears.

George didn't realise how touch starved he had been.

It's hard getting hugs when you're dead.

Something picked at the back of his brain, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. Not yet. Not while he had Dream and everything was okay.

George opened his eyes, looking up into Dream's welcoming green ones. He never noticed just how green they were.

They reminded him of the sea glass Dream would send him pictures of whenever he found a piece at the beach.

Dream kissed his forehead, and George sniffled.

Dream held George close, but moved far enough away to where George could see his whole face.

"I never loved you."

That's not true...

Right?

Dream still had that adoring, puppy dog look in his sea glass eyes.

His thumb was still gently wiping away tears.

If Dream didn't love George, then why did he call him when...

When he...

What?

What happened?

Why did Dream call George?

He... He couldn't remember.

It must not have been important.

George tried to think of a time when Dream reciprocated his feelings, when Dream wasn't joking around, when Dream actually cared-

"I know."

George shot up, his body shaking.

What was that?

He looked around, trying to calm his panicked mind.

The bedroom door was closed, no light peeking out from under the doorway.

Dream was sleeping beside him, his face framed by his dirty blond bangs.

Was that a dream?

George finally stopped shaking, and floated out of Dream's bed. He glanced around the room, still shaken from the whole... Experience.

The clock on the bedside table read 3:00 am. Dream wouldn't wake up for at least 7 hours.

This was going to be a long night.

<<i can't fluffing wait for the ending u guys are gonna... love... it ;)>>