// ANGST

George loved Dream. That was a given.

They started dating on July 16th, 2019. The happiest day of George's life. He remembers it perfectly—the night sky shining brightly with stars, Dream's hand timidly finding its way to George's, Dream refusing to make eye contact with George as a deep crimson blush spread across the bridge of his nose, ending at the tips of his ears.

"George," Dream began, nervously chewing his lip. A gentle breeze brushes against their cheeks, the atmosphere around them suddenly peaceful. Like George had drowned everything out except for Dream and the sound of Dream's voice.

"Dream," George chuckled breathlessly, a smile creeping onto his face. He searched Dream's eyes, only finding an overwhelming amount of adoration in them.

"George, I-" Dream took a deep breath, "I really like you. I...I love you."

George's eyes widened, all the air in his lungs suddenly being knocked out. His heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it in his ears. Dream's breath also caught in his throat, worry suddenly evident in his face.

"I'm sorry," Dream mustered out after a moment as he tried to pull his hand away, "that was weird and uncalled for. I'm sorry."

"Dream," George repeated, tightening his hold on Dream's hand. Dream paused, eyebrows raising expectantly. The brunet swallowed, taking in Dream's moonlit features, "I feel the same way. I have felt the same way for...for I don't know how long."

"Really?" Dream whispered, so quiet that George had to strain his ears in order to not miss it. A giddy smile tugs at both of their lips as they stare at each other in disbelief, as if to say, "This isn't real."

The stars shone brightly above them, undying and twinkling with newfound hope and love.

Almost as if it were instinct, their lips collided in a high energy kiss, one that most wouldn't consider a kiss because of how hard they were smiling. Teeth clashed, breathless giggles were exchanged, their noses were awkwardly pushed together; it really was the print definition of an imperfect kiss.

But it was perfect to them, and that was all that mattered.

George remembers their first date as an official couple. Dream had taken him to a private beach on the warm Florida coast.

There had been red—not that George could tell—rose petals arranged in the shape of a heart on the white bed sheets in the bedroom they shared during their week-long date. Cliché, George thought to himself, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Dream was a hopeless romantic and he would have to live with that.

They walked on the beach as the sun slowly disappeared under the horizon. They walked on the sand as the warmth slowly faded and turned into a nice coolness between George's toes. They walked hand in hand as the low tide lapped at their feet, causing a chill to run up George's spine. The stars began appearing above, and George immediately recognized several constellations like Ursa Major and Cepheus.

George could feel Dream's burning gaze into the side of his head. He turned, smiling softly at the dirty blond.

"Someone is staring," George teased cheekily, giggling at Dream's shyness. He wrapped his arms around Dream's shoulders and placed a quick kiss to the tip of his flushed nose.

"You're just too breathtaking," Dream murmured, pressing his lips to George's cheek. The brunet nuzzled into the touch, sighing as Dream wrapped his arms around his middle.

They stood together, rocking side to side in the slightest, as the ocean pushed against their still feet, dragging after a moment. There was a calming stillness in the air as well as a cold wind, but Dream provided all the warmth that George needed and more.

The stars shone just a bit brighter that night.

George had met Dream's parents before. He had. But that was before they were dating.

To add to that, Dream wasn't even out to his parents.

Dream had been pushing George away all day. The brunet frowned after his fifth attempt to talk to his significant other.

"Dream," George placed his hands onto Dream's tense shoulders. He felt an ache in his heart at how much more he tensed. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. If...if you really feel you're not ready then we don't have to go. I promise."

"I want to go," Dream muttered and rolled his shoulders, a silent request for George to remove his hands. He did. George folded his shaking hands together.

"I really do," Dream continued, running his hands down his face, "but I just- what if they don't support me?"

George doesn't say anything. Dream exhaled.

"Whatever. It's better to get this over with right now, right?" Dream asked, more to himself than to George. George hummed in agreement and backed up a bit, giving Dream more space.

"I'm gonna finish getting ready, then," George nodded curtly and went into the guest bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, more specifically the deep frown on his face.

They get to Dream's parents house an hour later. Dream has a forced smile on his face as he takes George's hand in his. Together, they walk up the front porch steps.

George looks at Dream. Dream looks at George.

They smile.

"Clay!" Dream's mother greets with a bright smile. George notices two younger kids running in the house behind her.

"Mom," Dream uses his free hand to hug her. Once he pulled away, he stood closer to George. "Uh, is dad here?"

"Of course!" Her eyes landed on their linked hands, and a look of surprise flashed across her face, "Oh! Clay?"

"Yeah, uh, inside please," Dream's hand shook in George's. Silently, they made their way to the dining table.

George took in the many family photos lining the walls. The living room looked homely, cluttered with picture frames and knick knacks that they had collected as a family over the years.

Their dining room was neat and made George feel more at ease. He took a seat beside Dream on one side, while Dream's mother and father sat directly across from them. Dream's siblings continued their play fighting in the living room.

"Mom," Dream looked at his mother, then to his father, "dad. This is George, my boyfriend."

George side glanced at Dream, his brows twitching inwards slightly in worry at how pale he was. His parents both looked shocked, but it's short lived as they break out into breathless laughs and wide smiles.

"Oh, Clay," his mother beamed, "this is amazing. George!"

George smiled sheepishly and reached a hand over the table, which she took. He did the same with Dream's father.

George can't help the sickly feeling growing in his stomach.

"Uh, yeah," George cringed at how awkward he sounded, "we started dating a month ago."

"Is he treating you well?" His father asked, sending his son a warning glare. Dream raised his hand defensively.

"Of course," George leaned into Dream's side, "he's wonderful."

The rest of the night goes by nicely. They share laughter and stories. Dream and George stole kisses here and there when no one was looking. They whispered sweet nothings and reassurances when no one was listening. They walk to the car together, hugging out of pure adrenaline.

The stars gleamed in contrast to the pitch black sky.

Dream's the happiest he had seen, George's lips tugged up in fondness.

Their first argument was nothing short of petty.

Dream just wanted to cuddle. George wanted to keep working on coding.

"Baby, please?" Dream whined. He was kneeling beside George's office chair, resting his chin on the brunet's thigh. He looked up at George with a fat pout and puppy eyes. George scoffed.

"Not right now," George pushed his head away mindlessly, never taking his eyes off of the monitor in front of him.

"Why not?" Dream made his voice even more annoying. George didn't think it was possible.

"Because I said so, Dream," George answered sternly, fingers stuttering on the keyboard as he lost his train of thought yet again.

"But I just want to cuddle, Georgie!" Dream feigned hurt and sadness. George finally looked over at him, eyebrows knitted together in frustration, and watched as Dream's face dropped.

The ugly pit in his stomach grows.

"Dream, I fucking said stop," George clenched his hands, quickly looking away from Dream because of how hurt he looked.

"Okay," Dream said quietly and got up. He walked out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.

George returned to coding, finishing through his frustration.

He tried to apologize an hour later when he was done. He walked out to the living room where Dream was laying with his back to him. George rubbed his arm in shame and walked forward.

"Dream?"

Dream didn't move. He hugged a decorative pillow to his chest. George looked down.

"Dream, I'm sorry," George apologized, "I- We can go cuddle now, if you want."

"No," Dream's voice was muffled by the pillow, "I want some time alone right now."

George tensed, twisting his mouth. He wasn't expecting Dream to say no...

"Oh."

George turned on his heel and headed back into their shared room.

The bed was cold that night.

The stars had lost a bit of their brightness.

They didn't argue for a while after that. Dream was as happy-go-lucky as ever the day after. They shared laughs, kisses, cuddles, candy, and more. They went on many more dates as the months went on.

To the local carnival, where they shared a big ass cotton candy together (Dream won George a massive teddy bear. They named it Cleetus).

To California, where they went to an Ed Sheeran concert last minute (both agreed; never again).

To Nevada, where they spent hours in Las Vegas gambling with Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity (Quackity lost more than he'd like to admit).

To their own living room, where they lay tangled in each other's arms, rewatching The Princess and The Frog for the third time that night

("How many times do we have to watch this movie?" George groaned.

"Until I fall asleep," Dream responded, voice full of energy and eyes shining with it, too).

And yet, after all of that, George couldn't shake the pit in his stomach away.

He opted to spend more time away from Dream. More time coding. More time editing. Maybe he was spending too much time with the dirty blond.

He talked to Sapnap about his problems. Sapnap seemed to help a lot. George appreciated it most times.

"George," Sapnap spoke into the mic, his Discord icon flashing with a green circle around it, "Dream has been looking into rings."

George stilled his hands, staring in horror at his second monitor. His heartbeat picked up, a cold sweat suddenly overtaking his body.

"What?" George asked, a bit harsher than he expected. He felt like throwing up. He felt disgusting bile rise in his throat. His head began to spin suddenly.

"He was asking me about them," Sapnap clicked his tongue, "I don't know, George. You gotta figure out your problem soon. He's my best friend, too. I don't need you breaking his heart."

George didn't know how to respond. His throat felt dry. The temperature of his room was hot and cold at the same time. His skin crawled uncomfortably. Most of all, his stomach bubbled with disgust.

"I have to go," George abruptly ended the Discord call and shut off his PC.

He couldn't do this.

A ring? Rings only meant one thing.

Marriage. Marriage meant forever.

Forever.

"Fuck," George stood and rushed to the front door, hastily grabbing his car keys and making his way to his car.

He can't do this.

Sapnap was right.

Dream bought a ring.

He took George to a beautiful meadow in the hills with thousands and thousands of tiny white flowers speckling the surface.

They had a peaceful picnic, Dream stealing adorned glances, and George only becoming more and more ashamed of himself after each one.

Dream had made neat sandwiches, packed an assortment of chips, and gotten them both a bottle of Calypso (Dream got an ocean blue lemonade and George got a strawberry lemonade).

After they finished eating, Dream led George down a small path deeper into the meadow. George's hands shook violently with each step. He knew where this was headed. He knew, he knew, he knew.

Dream stopped them after a while and turned to George, head tilted up towards the sun. George's breath was ripped from him at just how beautiful Dream was. The sun landed at all the right places, accentuating his few freckles and making his stunning yellow—green—eyes stand out more.

His smile was soft, welcoming, fond. George hated himself for hating it.

"George," Dream spoke softly, his voice so vulnerable that it physically pained George to listen to it. George watched intensely as he made to move for his pocket—George stopped him.

Dream's soft expression went from hurt to confusion.

"Dream, stop," George pleaded, trying to even his labored breathing. "Please, stop, stop."

"Wha- what did I do?" Dream's eyes widened in concern.

"I can't-" George gasped, "I can't do this. I can't. I-"

"George?" Dream's voice cracked, tears pricking his eyes. "You can't what?"

"Us," he managed, taking his hand back to cover his eyes. He can't cry, he can't. "It's- it's too much. It's too fucking much. I can't keep pretending everything is okay when it's not."

"Are you..." Dream sniffled, "are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes, Dream," George stepped back. His heart was shattering, breaking into thousands, millions of pieces. "I can't."

He felt shitty. He let his selfish fears get in the way of Dream's happiness. He's allowed Dream to break down crying in front of him, all because he can't.

He gets his stuff a week later after spending his time in a shitty Motel 6.

Dream isn't there when he does. He left for Texas to see Sapnap the night prior. George was okay with that.

He doesn't think about Dream while he gathers his things. He doesn't think about the memories. He doesn't think about how much Dream had probably cried while he was gone. He doesn't think about anything.

Maybe he deserved that.

To feel numb to it, to continue being unhappy.

He left their house at ten. He stepped out into the front lawn and gazed toward the stars.

There were none out that night. No Ursa Major, no Cepheus, just a blank black sky with a giant half moon.

George sighed and stuffed his belongings into the back of his car.

No twinkling stars, no love to be given, no Dream.

"I love you, Dream," George whispered.

"I still love you."

---

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