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I know the reason why you think you gotta leave
Church bells rang in the distance.
George stood stiffly on the uneven flagstones in the courtyard. A gust of wind blew past him, ruffling his suit jacket, and for a moment he thought it was Dream- Dream walking away, brushing by him, walking out of his life and leaving him for a man who had chased his affection with the same fervor Dream once pursued him.
Promises of future glory don't make a case for me
Dream had been stolen away from him by the allure of a happy ending. Getting married, settling down, starting a family. Something he would never have with George. George lived only for the pursuit, that whirlwind of pushing and pulling, spinning around each other in an eternal wedding dance.
He once thought that Dream had wanted the same. Clearly that was not the case.
I did my best and all the rest is hidden by the clouds
A cloud slid over the sun, and George took that as his cue to go inside. The wind grew chilled as he opened the doors, announcing his presence to the wedding hall. His eyes skipped over the aisle lined with flowers, the chattering guests, the enormity and grandeur of the church venue. He had eyes for only one thing, and despite this being the morning of his wedding day, he too only saw him.
Dark brown met hazel green, and Dream stared right back at him.
I can't carry you forever, but I can hold you now
Pause. A breath held midair, suspended in time. Filled with unspoken words.
Then:
Leaving on your wedding day
All calm and dressed in white
Chatter returned in the background. Motes of dust fell softly through the air. The spell broke, and George sat down heavily on the pew.
Dream was beautiful. After seeing him in a lifetime of oversized hoodies and sweaters, it was like seeing a stranger. The dress was stunning, long folds of elegant white cascading down his back and into a long train that dragged behind him like a swan’s tail. A crown of roses were woven through his long hair, and he held a matching bouquet in his hands. George assumed they were yellow, since green roses didn’t exist. It was an odd choice of color, but it didn’t stop Dream from playing the part of the perfect bride. The personification of purity.
George hated it. Only he knew what Dream really was like.
All I'll keep's the memory of one last crooked night
Dream was vicious. Passionate. Determined. Not just in that sense, but in the way Dream fought through life. He passed himself off as unbothered and collected so no one would know to step in his way when he really wanted something. His logic was flawless, if people didn’t know what he liked, then they couldn’t stop him from getting what he wanted.
The only thing he had wanted, and expressed his intention of wanting, was George.
It was only ironic that George had played the same game too well. What George wanted didn’t realize he was wanted, and here he was getting married to someone that was not him.
The pews are getting filled up
He forced himself to unclench his fists as Niki settled onto the pew beside him, giving him a weird look that was thankfully deflected when the music started up.
The organ's playing loud
A beam of sunlight fell through the stained glass window, illuminating Dream in golden light.
I can't carry you forever, but I can hold you now
George knelt before the altar, the church dark and empty behind him. Streamers of white paper were strewn across the cold stone floor, crushed underfoot from the uproar this morning. It was a far cry from the festive atmosphere earlier, having been stolen by the false promise of a happy wedding day.
His hands shook as he clasped them in front of his head, squeezing them so tightly that his knuckles turned white in the dark. He pressed his forehead against the cold tiles, bits of stone and gravel prickling his scalp like a crown of thorny roses.
He didn’t know why he was here. He didn’t believe in god, so why was he seeking forgiveness? He started to raise his head up at the figure in the darkened window, his movements slow and hesitant as if it were to smite him where he knelt.
Six wings, floating eyes, crossed haloes. A golden disk where the face should’ve been. The Prime God.
Echoes of a forgotten choir floated through the hall.
God, yu tekem laef blong mi
Mi mi givim nao long yu
Bak mi giv evride
Blong leftemap nem blong yu
He didn’t know what the words meant, but then again, words meant little to him.
I know the reason why you think I ought to stay
If he were asked to describe his relationship with Dream, he wouldn’t be able to. Not because there were no words to describe it, but rather, the lack of words spoken about it.
Stolen kisses, fleeting glances. Moments of heat and passion, with not a single word exchanged between the two of them. It was a chasm of unspoken emotion bridged —almost paradoxically— by the deep, innate understanding between the two of them. It was love, in its oldest, most primordial form.
Funny how you're telling me on my wedding day
But love like that couldn’t exist out in the open. Not in a world governed by words and spoken thought. It was selfish of him to assume Dream knew how much he’d meant to him, selfish of him to feel as if he’d been stolen away.
Crying in those rumpled sheets
Then why did it feel like the entire world was falling out under him?
Like someone's 'bout to die
Him. He was about to die.
You just watch your mouth when talking 'bout the father of the bride
“I OBJECT!”
A sea of heads turned towards him. It was too late to object, technically. The vows had been exchanged, Dream was already married, and he’d missed his opportunity (again) while lost in his thoughts.
In his moment of urgency he’d sprung from his seat, now sticking out of the crowd like a sore thumb. A burning gaze slammed into the side of his head and he didn’t even need to turn around to see who it was. If he looked, he would lose all his confidence. He knew exactly what thoughts ran through Sapnap’s mind. In particular, all those late nights where Dream had come crying to him, his heart broken by George’s cruel indifference.
Before he could stop himself, he heaved himself up onto the stage. Dream’s eyes were wide with surprise, but his lips curved into a knowing smile. It was mocking, almost. As if Dream knew he would cause a scene, but didn’t know if he actually had the guts to do it.
Why's your heart grown heavy, boy, when things were feeling light?
He fumbled over his words, aware that an entire wedding hall’s worth of eyes were on him. He couldn’t do it.
At least not with words.
George leaned forward and kissed him.
It was nothing like the ones they once shared, quiet and laden with unspoken emotion. This one was loud, ostentatious, meant to cause uproar and cause uproar it did. The wedding hall burst into chaos, cries of shock filling the air. A roar of fury came behind him, and George started to turn-
A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, grounding him before he could flee. The clouds finally covered up the sun, and the beam of sunlight that fell through the stained glass window to illuminate Dream faded.
Turning this June morning into some dark judgment night
Sapnap shoved his way through the crowd, finally reaching the stage. The fury in his face was enough to make George instantly twist in Dream’s arms, desperate to make his escape before the consequences of his actions finally caught up to him.
He just crashed an entire wedding, didn’t he?
Dream’s arms fell from around his waist, setting him free. As he turned to run, their eyes met a second time. Even though the moment was brief, the message was clear.
This ain't the end of nothing much, it's just another round
Finally, that sick, twisted part of him understood. This was not Dream putting an end to things, but rather raising the stakes. A new level, a new challenge. What a game it would be to pursue a married man! Their relationship would be even more clandestine, now confined entirely to kisses stolen in the dark with no hope of letting them out to the light.
It was how George preferred it, and now he finally knew that Dream wanted the same.
I can't carry you forever, but I can hold you now
Why did they make church ceilings so high when all people did within them was look down? Who would be there to admire the heights they could truly reach?
The suffocating air between the eaves laid heavily on him. He fought the weight of the heavens as he finally stood, knees protesting from having been knelt on for so long.
The chorus swelled in his ears again. This time, words emerged in their voices.
(God, take my life and let it be)
The figure in the stained glass window was no longer a stranger to him. In that empty white circle, long blonde hair framed a familiar face. The doors behind him flew open.
(Consecrated, Lord, to Thee;)
George turned and met a pair of dark eyes. The very same painted in the window behind him by bottle-green glass.
In the grim darkness of the church, Dream looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen him. Gone was the flowing white dress, the vestiges of honor and tradition; gone were the crown of roses upon his head (yellow, for infidelity, his mind supplied. He should’ve noticed it sooner). Instead he was dressed in a baggy hoodie and jeans, looking as he always did. He was no longer the symbol of purity, something unattainable except to the gods, but rather, humanity.
Dream stepped closer, and his lips twisted in a self-satisfied, lopsided smirk.
George met his look with a similar one, trying to feign bored disinterest, but ultimately failed. He had already almost lost Dream once. They beheld each other for only a moment longer before an unspoken thought passed between them and they surged forward together as one.
(Take my hands and let them move)
The air flew out of his lungs as they crashed into each other, pressing their bodies together. George let Dream take his shaking hands in his and guide them up to his face, where he gently cupped his jaw.
(At the impulse of Thy love.)
There were still no words when they finally kissed in the darkness.