cinnamon and swirl
“I could’ve,” Dream admits. “So many times.”
Sapnap stays quiet a moment, and while Dream sniffles, the little girl in his lap turns, taps against his face like the tears are common. Dream kisses at her hand, promises her he is okay. He acts like nothing is wrong. Like Sapnap isn’t crying in front of him too, when he should be scolding Dream.
“Why didn’t you?” Sapnap asks as he swipes the back of his hand over his nose. “I mean, not even George?”
The mention of their other friend brings Dream into a new reality. Soft, brown, messy hair on his screen, a grin that laughs and cheeks that turn rosy any time Dream teases him. A light squeal into his headset at the late hours of the night, once Dream is alone in his tranquility. George, the rough paper that sands Dream down. Warm, fluffy bread. Fuck, Dream thinks.
Dream decides to tell his friends about his daughter right before they move in.