sometimes you gotta bleed to know (that you're alive and have a soul)

Dream's obvious uncomfort is palpable. George's eyes flick to the marble-patterned island, which is scattered with various food items and empty soda cans he knows are Dream's favorites, with urgency."So you're back," Dream whispers, voice nasally. George leans back on the countertop, shifting his weight to his arms, hands grasping the edge. Cold to the touch, as all things in Dream's apartment are."Why, am I not welcome?" George clears his throat and watches Dream's eyelashes flutter shut in confusing silence.-or, George knows he always comes running back to Dream.