Dreams Can Come True

[sarahendrix]

sarah was grateful to have dream and lennon there with her. neither of them had called her stupid for ending up in that situation — if anything, they had only been incredibly gentle with her. she was still crying against dream’s shoulder, and she would’ve understood if the other had pulled away. after all, they had been seeing each other, and now dream had just found out sarah was pregnant and didn’t even know who the father was. when dream suggested they sit down, sarah nodded, trying to keep the tears from spilling again. as dream guided them inside, sarah sat on the couch and stayed close, still clinging to her side like she needed that contact to stay grounded. the feeling of dream’s hand resting against her thigh soothed her in a way she couldn’t explain. as dream talked about hitting rock bottom herself, about feeling like there was nowhere else to go, sarah took a shaky breath. she nodded. there was nothing else to do but find a way through it. “thanks, dream,” she whispered, her voice breaking again. she leaned in and wrapped her arms around the girl, holding onto her tightly for a second before pulling back just enough to look at her sister too. “thanks, lennon,” she sighed softly. “i really didn’t think this was how you two were going to meet.” she tried to laugh, to lighten the heaviness in the room, but it came out fragile and sad. she was trying to rebuild her walls already, even when everything inside her felt like it was crumbling. she turned slightly, still pressed close to dream like she was afraid of moving too far away. “dream, this is my sister lennon,” she introduced softly, glancing between them. then she looked at lennon. “and lennon, this is dream.” a faint, sad smile tugged at her lips. “the only good thing that came out of me sleeping around, apparently,” she admitted, trying to joke through the pain. then she exhaled and looked between them again, cheeks flushed from crying. “is this awkward?” she asked with a weak little laugh.

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream stayed exactly where she was when Sarah cried into her shoulder, not flinching, not pulling away, only shifting enough to make it easier for her to lean there. One arm wrapped around Sarah’s back, her hand rubbing slow, steady circles between her shoulders while the other remained warm against her thigh. There was no judgment in Dream’s face, only a softness that made space for every messy feeling in the room. When Sarah thanked her, Dream’s expression tightened for a second with emotion before she shook her head lightly. “You never have to thank me for being here,” she said quietly. “I’m here because I want to be.” She accepted the hug instantly, folding Sarah close and holding her with surprising gentleness, chin brushing briefly against the top of her head. When Sarah pulled back to introduce them, Dream glanced to Lennon and offered a small nod, calm and sincere. “Nice to meet you, Lennon,” she said softly. Then Sarah made her joke, and Dream’s brows lifted as she turned back toward her. Without missing a beat, she reached up and brushed a tear-damp strand of hair back from Sarah’s face. “First of all,” she murmured, voice warm but firm, “you’re not going to talk about yourself like that right now.” Her thumb lingered near Sarah’s cheek for a second before she let her hand fall. “No,” she said softly, firmly. “It’s not awkward. It’s just the circumstances we met under.” She gave Sarah’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. “If anything, I’m glad I’m here. Even if it’s messys.” She shifted closer on the couch, shoulder pressing into Sarah’s. “So no, not awkward. Just real." Dream gave a small glance toward Lennon before looking back at Sarah, then let out a quiet breath like she may as well be honest while everything else was already out in the open. “I did sleep with your sister, and I’m not gonna pretend it was some whirlwind romance.” Her tone stayed light, but there was no cruelty in it, just blunt honesty. “It was a one-night thing.” She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug before adding, “But we got back into contact not too long ago.” Dream’s hand slid reassuringly over Sarah’s thigh again, grounding and gentle. “So if anyone’s worried about weirdness, don’t be. We’re adults. We know what it was, and we know what it is now.” She glanced to Lennon, then back to Sarah. “Right now what matters is you, Sarah. The pasts the past."

[sarahendrix]

sarah felt completely lost. she was used to that feeling—maybe that was one of the reasons she had looked for company in strangers’ arms so many nights before—but right now she couldn’t imagine what she would do without her sister and dream standing there with her. dream kept reminding her that things were complicated, not messed up, but sarah could hear it a thousand times and still feel like she was the problem, like she had ruined everything. even when dream held her face, sarah struggled to meet her eyes for more than a second, shame pulling her gaze away. she was scared that if she looked too long, she’d see the hurt she had caused. “you… you think so?” she whispered, finally glancing up again, her eyes red and swollen from crying. “i’m terrified,” she admitted softly, leaning into dream’s touch as she wiped away a tear. when dream promised she wasn’t going anywhere, sarah let out a shaky sob. “okay,” she breathed, tears still falling. when she told dream she needed her, it was the most honest thing she could say; in that moment the only people she felt she had left were dream and her sister. hearing dream say she would stay made a rush of relief flood through her chest. “thank you,” she exhaled, her knees feeling weak enough that she might collapse. she hadn’t even fully registered that dream had said she loved her—her heart was beating too loudly in her ears to process it yet. sarah wrapped her arms around her tightly, burying her face in the crook of dream’s neck for a moment before slowly pulling back, biting her lip to keep another sob from escaping. “can we… go inside?” she asked quietly, looking at her. “i think i need to sit down.” she turned then to lennon, stepping away just long enough to wrap her sister in a tight hug too. “i don’t know what i’d do without you two,” she admitted shakily. “i don’t deserve you.”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream didn’t move away when Sarah struggled to hold her gaze. If anything, she leaned in a little more, hands still gently holding Sarah’s face like she was trying to keep her grounded in the moment instead of drifting off into the spiral of guilt she always seemed to fall into. When Sarah finally looked up and whispered, Dream nodded immediately, her expression soft but certain. “I do,” she said quietly. “I really do.” Her thumbs brushed lightly under Sarah’s eyes as another tear slipped down. “You’re scared,” Dream added gently. “That makes sense. Anyone would be.” There wasn’t a hint of blame in her voice, only patience. When Sarah leaned into her touch and admitted she was terrified, Dream’s hand moved instinctively to the back of her head, holding her close for a moment. “Hey, that’s okay,” she murmured. “You don’t have to be brave about this right now. Things will all work out." When Sarah said she needed her, the words clearly landed somewhere deep. Dream’s expression softened even more, something protective settling in her posture as she stayed right there with her. “I’m here,” she repeated quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.” She meant it in a way that sounded less like reassurance and more like a promise she’d already made to herself. When Sarah hugged her, Dream wrapped her arms around her immediately, holding her steady when her knees seemed weak. Her hand rested between Sarah’s shoulder blades, rubbing slow, calming circles while she let her cry against her shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me,” Dream murmured near her hair. “You never have to thank me." When Sarah pulled back and asked if they could go inside, Dream nodded right away. “Of course,” she said softly. “Let’s go sit down.” She kept one hand lightly on Sarah’s arm as they moved, not controlling, just making sure she was steady. She shared a polite smile towards Lennon. When Sarah hugged Lennon and said she didn’t deserve them, Dream shook her head almost immediately. “You do,” Dream told her. Her hand rested lightly against Sarah’s back again. “You’ve been through more than most people ever will,” she continued quietly. “Needing people, leaning on us both, that doesn’t make you a problem. It makes you human.” Once they were inside, Dream made sure Sarah got to the couch before anything else. She stayed close, guiding her gently until she sat down, like she didn’t quite trust Sarah’s legs to hold her yet. Lennon sat on Sarah’s other side almost immediately, instinctively leaning in and resting her head against her sister’s shoulder. Dream sat down on Sarah’s other side, close enough that their knees touched. For a moment she just watched Sarah carefully, making sure she was breathing a little more evenly now. Then her hand moved, resting gently on Sarah’s leg, warm, grounding, not gripping, just there. “I’ve hit rock bottom before,” she admitted. “The kind where you’re sure you’ve ruined everything and there’s nowhere left to go.” Her thumb shifted slightly against Sarah’s leg in a small reassuring motion. “But the thing about rock bottom,” Dream continued quietly, meeting her eyes, “is the only place from there is up.”

[sarahendrix]

as dream gently insisted she hadn’t done anything wrong—that sometimes people just needed to talk to feel lighter—sarah shook her head almost immediately. talking wasn’t her thing. talking meant sitting still long enough to feel everything. she coped by moving, by acting, by making choices she didn’t have to overthink until later. that’s how she’d ended up here in the first place. and dream… dream had this quiet way of seeing through her walls without even trying to knock them down. that was the problem. “i know i didn’t,” sarah said flatly, already reaching for her jacket. she stood, movements sharp, decisive. leaving felt easier than staying. “i don’t care if you judge me or not. i don’t care what you think. i don’t care what anyone thinks,” she pushed out, jaw tight. “that’s how i ended up in this fucking situation.” her fingers curled around the strap of her bag. “i don’t talk. i act. and i don’t give a fuck about what people do.” her voice cracked for just a second and she hated it—hated that it betrayed something softer underneath. when dream mentioned the coffee, trying to anchor her, sarah let out a frustrated breath. “fuck the coffee, dream,” she muttered. “i shouldn’t even be here. and you—with your stupid angel energy—you need to stop trying to fix people like me, okay?” the words came out harsher than she intended, but she didn’t take them back. she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked away before she could change her mind. outside, the air felt colder than it should have. her chest tightened, eyes burning. she didn’t want to cry. she didn’t want to feel exposed. she just wanted to know why talking—why staying—felt so much harder than running.

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream had noticed the shift in Sarah before the words even came. So she spoke gently, steady as ever, insisting that Sarah hadn’t done anything wrong, that sometimes people just needed to talk to feel lighter. She didn’t say it like an accusation. She said it like an offering. Dream watched the way her jaw tightened, the way her shoulders squared as if bracing for something physical instead of emotional. Talking wasn’t Sarah’s thing. Dream knew that now. Talking meant sitting still long enough for the feelings to catch up. And Sarah survived by staying ahead of them. “I’m not judging you,” she said. “And I’m not keeping score. I just… care what happens to you. There’s a difference.” Dream tilted her head slightly, studying her, not critically, just honestly. “You don’t talk,” she agreed quietly. “You move. You decide. You jump before anything can catch up.” A small pause. “That’s kept you alive in ways I probably don’t even understand. But it doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to slow down sometimes too. Life isn't always a fight, babe." Sarah’s voice cracked. Dream didn’t point it out. She just softened. When Dream mentioned the coffee, it wasn’t to trap her. It was to anchor her, yet it backfired and spiraled. Dream stood then, not abruptly, not confrontational. Just enough so Sarah wouldn’t feel talked down to. “I’m not trying to fix you,” she said, and this time there was something firmer beneath the calm. “You’re not a project. You’re not broken machinery I’m tinkering with.” Her eyes held Sarah’s. “I see you making choices that hurt you. And yeah, I say something. Not because you need fixing. But because I think you deserve better than survival mode. You deserve someone to actually see you for once in your life." Sarah had already slung her bag over her shoulder. “You don’t have to stay,” Dream added, softer again. “But don’t rewrite me into the villain just so it’s easier to leave.” That was the only edge she allowed herself. When Sarah turned to walk away, Dream didn’t grab her. Didn’t follow. But she did call after her, not loudly. “Running works,” she said evenly. “Until it doesn’t.” Then she let her go. "Call me when you're ready to talk." She stayed where she was, heart steady even if her chest felt tight. She knew Sarah heard more than she’d ever admit. And Dream wasn’t angry. Just patient.

[sarahendrix]

when dream wrapped her arms around her, sarah’s body gave in before her mind could argue. the tension she carried in her shoulders eased just slightly, like the first time lennon had hugged her after that late-night phone call when everything felt like it was collapsing. she wanted to believe she would survive this—that dream and her sister would stand beside her and she wouldn’t fall apart—but fear was louder than hope. “thank you,” she whispered against dream’s shoulder, her voice breaking as tears soaked into the fabric. “that’s why i called you both… i can’t do this alone.” the confession came out raw, stripped of pride. when she pulled back and felt dream’s hands on her face, she looked away, unable to hold her gaze. “you’re idiots for choosing me,” she muttered, then forced herself to meet her brown eyes. “you shouldn’t.” another sob tore through her before she could stop it. “i need you here, but you’re dumb for choosing me,” she repeated, like saying it enough times might push dream away before she could be abandoned. she bit her lip hard, grounding herself in the sting. “thanks for coming,” she added shakily. “i know this isn’t your kid and—” she let out a broken breath. “i wish i hadn’t slept with anyone else after that day we had coffee. but i did. and i don’t even know who the dad is.” the words felt poisonous leaving her mouth. “you don’t have to stay. this is messed up. i’m messed up,” she said, shaking her head. “but if you do… i don’t know how to do this. how do i bring a kid into the world when i can barely hold myself together?” her voice softened, small and terrified in a way she rarely allowed anyone to see. “i need you, dream.”

[dreamdarlingox]

When Dream wrapped her arms around Sarah, she felt the fight leave her before the words did. She didn’t tighten her hold in surprise. She simply adjusted, one hand steady at Sarah’s upper back, the other resting firm and warm between her shoulder blades. Grounding. Not trapping. Just there. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she answered softly, her voice low and certain. “That’s not how this works anymore. You called. I’m here.” When Sarah pulled back and refused her gaze, Dream let her hands come up gently to her face, not forcing, not demanding eye contact, just offering steadiness. When Sarah finally looked at her and muttered. Dream didn’t flinch. Her thumbs brushed lightly under Sarah’s eyes, catching tears as they fell. “We didn’t ‘choose’ you like you’re some charity case,” Dream said calmly. Honest. “We just love you as a person. That’s not stupidity. That’s intention.” Another sob tore through Sarah. Dream’s expression softened, but there was quiet strength beneath it now. “Sarah,” she said gently, waiting until her name settled between them. “You don’t get to decide my worth by calling my choices dumb. I’m not confused. I’m not tricked. I’m here because I want to be.” She rested her forehead lightly against Sarah’s for a moment, steadying, not overwhelming. “You don’t push me away to protect me. I can decide what I can handle.” When Sarah thanked her for coming and stumbled into the confession, about the coffee, about sleeping with someone else, about not knowing who the father was, Dream listened without interruption. Not a single flicker of judgment crossed her face. “This is complicated,” she corrected gently. “Not messed up. Complicated is human. Messed up is shame talking.” Her hands stayed on Sarah’s face, anchoring her. “I’m not here because the baby is mine biologically. I’m here because you matter to me. That doesn’t disappear because the timeline got messy. You don’t have to have yourself perfectly together to be a good mother,” she said. “You just have to be willing to show up. And you are. You’re terrified right now, that already tells me you care.” She brushed a tear away with her thumb. “We’ll figure out the logistics. Doctor appointments. Options. DNA tests if that’s what you want. One step at a time. You don’t solve eighteen years tonight.” Then, when Sarah finally said it plainly, Dream didn’t hesitate. “I know,” she replied quietly. “And I’m not scared of that.” Her voice remained patient. Certain. “I’m staying. Not because you’re falling apart. Not because you owe me anything. I’m staying because I love you to some degree. And loving someone means standing next to them when things are unclear, not just when they’re easy.” She pulled Sarah back into her arms, slower this time, letting her settle fully. “You are not too much. You are not a mistake. And you are not doing this alone.” And she meant every word.

[sarahendrix]

it was true—she hadn’t run this time. she had asked for help, asked her sister to come over, and she had told dream too, which wasn’t something she would have done in the past, and yet there she was. it didn’t make her feel better in the moment, but it was something, and she felt like her future self might find comfort in what she’d done. “i slept with a lot of people,” she sighed, “and i chose not to be careful with a couple of them, and look,” she added with another shaky breath. she felt embarrassed, sad, and all she wanted was to lock herself in her room and cry alone. sarah listened as her older sister told her that leaving before dream woke up didn’t mean she didn’t care, it meant she was scared of wanting more—that that was why she’d left, because she never wanted to give anyone the chance to knock her walls down, at least not before dream, before all the mess. “i don’t think she can imagine the kind of mess i am,” sarah went on, ignoring her sister’s words because that was how she truly felt, “and if she does choose me after that, i almost feel sorry for her.” as lennon wrapped her arms around her in that protective way, sarah melted instantly, clinging to her, needing that comfort. when they heard the door, lennon pulled away, and sarah looked at her as she was told to wait in the bathroom while lennon went downstairs to get dream. she nodded, waited a few seconds after her sister left the room, but the silence was unbearable, her thoughts too loud. she couldn’t be alone anymore. she walked quickly into the hallway, found dream there, and the moment she saw her, she broke. tears spilled as she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her. “dream,” she sobbed, holding her tightly, eyes squeezed shut. “i didn’t run,” she whispered through her broken voice. “i didn’t run.”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream barely had time to take a full step forward before Sarah was in her arms. She caught her instinctively, arms wrapping tight around her shoulders and back, pulling her in close against her chest like there was nowhere else she needed to be. She didn’t say anything at first, she just held her, firm and steady, one hand pressing between Sarah’s shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of her head, anchoring her there. Lennon stayed just behind them, close enough to be felt, a quiet presence, making sure Sarah was surrounded on all sides. Dream tightened her arms around Sarah. “You don’t need to run anymore,” she said, voice steady but full of feeling. “You don’t need to cope with everything alone.” She pulled back just enough to make sure Sarah could hear her, still holding her close, thumb brushing gently at her shoulder. “You have people who care about you, Sarah,” Dream continued, unmistakably certain. “You have me. You have Lennon. You don’t have to do this by yourself ever again.” Dream slowly loosened her hold just enough to lift her hands to Sarah’s face. She cradled her cheeks gently, thumbs brushing over the tear-stained skin, wiping them away with careful, steady strokes like she wasn’t going anywhere. Her eyes stayed locked on Sarah’s, grounding her there. “We choose you,” Dream said softly but clearly. “Every time.” Her thumbs paused, resting just beneath Sarah’s eyes as she continued, voice calm and certain. “And we’ll keep showing up. Again and again. You don’t have to earn that.” She leaned in slightly, forehead almost touching Sarah’s, still holding her face like it was precious. “Please don’t ever shut yourself out,” she said, quieter now but no less firm. “Let us be here. Let me be here.”

[sarahendrix]

as she said that sleeping around wasn’t a big deal, sarah shrugged, glancing around like she didn’t care at all—though she did. she knew it was a lot, she knew it wasn’t the smartest or the safest coping mechanism, but it was all she knew. she wasn’t a good talker, nor a good listener; she’d grown up in a household where neither of those things really mattered, yet dream seemed to be taking mental notes of everything she said. when dream repeated that she was the best, sarah shrugged again. “it’s not a big deal,” she mused, taking a sip of her coffee and shaking her head. when dream told her she was happy to be her favorite, sarah shrugged once more. “if that helps you sleep at night, sure,” she said lightly. she didn’t know why she was saying all of this to her—she should have paid for her coffee and left—but instead there she was, talking about past one-night stands like it was something she usually did. “she did,” sarah nodded, looking at dream. “i mean, everyone can be into whatever they like, but i’m not going to moan ‘mommy,’ that’s not hot for me, i guess,” she added with a shrug, turning her gaze back to the window. then the listening came back, dream circling back to the second-rounds comment, and sarah sighed. at the question, she furrowed her brows and looked back at her. “no,” she said flatly—second rounds meant that at some point there would be a third, and then feelings, and she didn’t need that. “i don’t even know why i told you that,” she muttered, her walls snapping back into place. “i think i should go,” she shook her head. “i knew this was a bad idea.”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream didn’t rush to fill the silence when Sarah’s walls snapped back up. She just watched her for a second, expression softer than before, like she was recalibrating. “Hey,” she said quietly, not chasing, not cornering. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She gave a small, almost self-aware smile, lifting her shoulders in a half-shrug of her own. “You don’t owe me explanations. Or stories. Or honesty on demand,” she added, voice easy, conversational, like this was just another observation she was filing away. “Sometimes people talk because it’s easier than sitting with their thoughts. Sometimes because the coffee’s still warm. Sometimes because it's good to let things out." When Sarah said she should go, Dream nodded, accepting it without protest. “If you want to,” she said. “But you didn't say something bad. You just said a thought. And thoughts don’t have to turn into anything bigger.” She leaned back slightly, giving Sarah space rather than taking it. “For what it’s worth,” Dream added, gentle but steady, “I wasn’t judging you. I was listening." Then, like she was deliberately lowering the emotional temperature, she glanced at Sarah’s cup. “You didn’t even finish your coffee yet,” she said lightly. “Which feels like the real crime here.”

[sarahendrix]

sarah sat down in the armchair. she’d chosen a table with two seats—a quiet invitation for dream to join her—but she was still trying to keep her at arm's length, a silent reminder that she wasn’t here to talk or play nice. "good," she said softly, letting out a sigh as she stared out the window. there was no hint of a smile; she was just trying to act like nothing mattered, focused on the people outside to fight the urge to look at dream. when dream announced she was going to do the talking, sarah’s gaze shifted to meet hers. she shrugged and looked away again. "i'm not pretending. you don't know me well enough to tell me i'm pretending," she mused. "this is just who i am. not everyone is as sweet and approachable as you are," she spat. it wasn't meant to be mean, but she felt cornered by dream’s kindness, and her words came out sharper than intended. "it just means i don't want to go back to my room," she added, shaking her head and taking a sip of her drink. her heart was racing, panicked by how easily dream could read her. it made her want to run away and cry. she took a deep breath before looking at dream with a deadpan expression. "yes, it is," sarah nodded. bumping into someone she’d slept with wasn't exactly a shock; in fact, it happened pretty often. sarah wasn't usually good at reading people, but she caught the hesitation in dream’s voice. her shoulders finally relaxed, and the tension in her eyes faded. "i don't even remember when i was with her. i sleep around just to get the frustration and anger out of my system," she confessed, looking away. "but yes, you've been the best person i've been with." there was no point in lying about it. "if i wasn't the way i am, i’d probably ask for a second round, but i'm just not like that," she added, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "the waitress... she just wanted me to pull her hair. she even asked me to call her 'mommy,'" she confessed, finally opening up. "yeah, that didn't really work for me. i left her place before she even fell asleep."

[dreamdarlingox]

"You sleep around, it's not too big of a deal. We all deal with things in different ways. It's maybe a little reckless, sure, but if it helps it helps." Dream leaned back slightly, flicking her hair over her shoulder with a satisfied smirk. She let Sarah speak, listening carefully, her eyes glinting with quiet amusement. Every word Sarah offered—every reluctant compliment, every hesitant confession—felt like fuel. “Oh? The best, huh?” Dream murmured, her tone casual but dripping with smug satisfaction. She tilted her head just enough to catch the light in her eyes, enjoying the way Sarah couldn’t quite hide the truth from her. As Sarah detailed her past encounters and her inability to remember others clearly, Dream’s smirk only deepened. She let a slow, deliberate chuckle escape, quiet but pointed. “Well I'm happy to be your favourite,” she said, her voice smooth, playful, teasing, just enough to let Sarah know she relished being the one remembered. When Sarah mentioned the “mommy” thing with the waitress, Dream’s eyes twitched with suppressed amusement. "Wait… she wanted you to call her ‘mommy’?” Her tone was light, teasing, impossible to take seriously. Dream let out a quiet, amused laugh, tilting her head and flicking her hair over her shoulder again. “That’s… a little weird,” she said, her voice smooth, teasing. “I guess people are into some weird shit sometimes, though.” Her smirk widened, just enough to let Sarah know she was enjoying the little ego boost, the subtle reminder that she was the one who had stuck out. Dream’s smirk deepened, a slow, knowing gleam in her eyes. “A second round though, huh?” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. She leaned back slightly, letting the silence stretch just enough to make Sarah squirm. Then, a playful tilt of her head, she added, “I am. You want me to ask it instead so you don't have to break those pretty little walls of yours down?” Her grin sharpened, confident and a little petty.

[sarahendrix]

sarah was trying to build the walls back up, boundaries thick enough to keep people at arm’s length; that was what she thought she needed. she ignored the desperate scream in her mind telling her to hold onto the people who actually cared for her, because she wasn’t the girl who asked for help—she was the girl who ran, the girl who could do everything on her own because she didn’t need anyone, because she told herself she was all she needed. or at least that was the lie she clung to, because it was easier being alone than caring about others, easier than admitting she was broken. at dream’s words her eyebrows furrowed; she didn’t want a maybe, she wanted the other to agree to go separate ways. she wished dream would leave so she wouldn’t have to feel her calm presence, her warm words that kept trying to break her walls down like a soft, perfect wrecking ball threatening to make her open up. “great,” she nodded, knowing the girl wasn’t going to leave. she looked down at her coffee—black, unsweet, like she tried to trick people into believing she was bitter and unreachable. she leaned a little closer to dream and shook her head. “you can do whatever you want.” then she walked toward an empty table by the window, a lower one with two small armchairs that gave the university café a warm touch, sunlight spilling in. she sat down and looked at dream, a wordless promise that she wouldn’t push her away. she took off her jacket and laid it across her lap. “i guess this is the kind of table you like, it looks warm,” she murmured before looking away, pulling her feet up on the armchair, hugging her knees, turning her face toward the window where the sunlight kissed her skin. “i’m not good at conversations. you can stay, but you can work. i like silence.”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream watched Sarah’s shoulders tighten as she tried to put her walls back up—walls Dream had learned to read. Even as Sarah nodded and said great, Dream didn’t move; she knew the difference between someone saying go and someone truly wanting distance. Sarah would’ve walked away entirely if she didn’t want Dream there. So Dream followed a few steps behind, giving Sarah space but refusing to disappear. When Sarah chose the lower table by the window, Dream felt a small flicker of relief. Sarah had picked a place where someone could sit with her—a silent permission. Dream slipped into the armchair across from her, easing down without making it a big deal. She set her own drink on the table and glanced briefly at Sarah’s jacket folded across her lap, a small sign of settling rather than running. Dream’s lips curved slightly, warmth blooming across her expression. “It is,” Dream answered softly. “And you picked it. Good call.” She watched the way Sarah curled into herself, knees drawn up, face turned toward sunlight. Dream didn’t look away; she didn’t crowd her either. Instead, she leaned back into her chair, legs crossing comfortably as she let her presence stay steady and calm. Sarah told her she wasn’t good at conversations. Told her she could stay but work. Told her she liked silence. Dream nodded, accepting every piece without hesitation. “Silence is fine,” she said, voice quiet but sure. “I don’t need you to talk.” But she didn’t go completely quiet either—she knew Sarah didn’t truly want that. She kept her tone soft, warm like the sunlight hitting Sarah’s cheek. “I’m still going to talk a little,” Dream added, just enough for Sarah to hear the smile in her voice. “Not to push you. Just so you know I’m here.” Dream picked up her drink, took a slow sip, then rested it back on the table. “You don’t have to pretend you’re bitter. Or unreachable.” Her voice remained steady, not accusing, just honest. “You let me sit with you. That already says more than you think.” She tucked her foot under her leg, settling deeper into the chair, comfortable enough for both of them. “So…” Dream started, her eyes sliding back to Sarah, searching her expression. “That waitress.” There was a beat, a breath, then Dream’s head tilted the slightest bit. “A past girl you slept with?” The question wasn’t sharp—it was controlled, calm, the kind of calm that only barely hid the flicker of insecurity beneath. Dream didn’t look away; she held Sarah’s gaze, steady and unblinking. “Just…” Dream hesitated for the first time, then let the words fall out in a quiet breath. “Just make me feel good.” Her gaze locked onto Sarah’s, steady, searching, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. “I was better,” she whispered, almost like a question she didn’t want to admit she needed answered. “Right?”

[sarahendrix]

sarah didn’t want to be there—facing her past was the last thing she needed. but of course, fate had a cruel sense of humor. not only did she bump into dream, but also another girl she’d slept with and then vanished on the next morning. it was her classic move—keep it simple, keep it distant, need no one. still, when dream stepped in to rescue her from that painfully awkward encounter, sarah followed her lead without hesitation. as they walked away from the line, she noticed how casual dream seemed about it, like it was nothing. sarah, though, couldn’t quite fake it this time. her usually neutral, detached expression had softened into something uneasy—her brows drawn together, her guard flickering. she was struggling to hold it all together. “i was dealing with what i deserve,” she muttered, her tone halfway between sarcasm and self-awareness. she wanted to tell dream she didn’t have to do that, but deep down, she was grateful that she did. “you don’t,” she said after a beat, nodding slightly, “but i don’t know you that well.” it came out matter-of-fact, maybe even a little defensive—an effort to remind them both where the boundaries were supposed to be. “after this, our paths go separate ways?” she asked, trying to make it sound casual, but it came out quieter than she meant, almost like she was testing if dream would agree. “i paid for your coffee and cupcake, and i disappeared after having sex,” she added with a dry, half-hearted smirk. “i think that should cover the awkwardness of the morning after.”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream kept a careful eye on Sarah, noticing the tension in her shoulders and the slight crease of her brows. She could tell Sarah was trying to keep herself composed, but the unease slipping through was impossible to miss. Dream stayed close, letting her presence speak before any words did—steady, calm, and unjudging. When Sarah muttered about “dealing with what she deserves,” Dream’s lips lifted in a soft, understanding smile. “Fair enough,” she said gently, her voice quiet but warm. She didn’t push, didn’t demand explanations—just let Sarah have the space to feel uneasy without judgment. Sarah’s next words about boundaries made Dream nod once, slow and deliberate. “I get that,” she said softly. “We don’t know each other that well. I’m not here to force anything.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a subtle reassurance underneath, letting Sarah know she wasn’t going anywhere either. When Sarah asked if their paths would separate after this, Dream’s eyes softened, though she kept her expression calm. “Maybe,” she said, shrugging lightly. “Or maybe not. Doesn’t have to be decided right now.” There was no pressure in her voice—just a quiet willingness to let things unfold at their own pace. “Noted,” she said, a gentle laugh hiding behind her words. “Consider the awkwardness accounted for.” Through it all, Dream remained a calm, steady presence, giving Sarah space to speak and set boundaries, while silently showing she could be trusted to stay—if Sarah wanted her to. Dream’s eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She tilted her head, letting the silence hang for a beat longer than necessary before leaning in just a fraction closer. “Did you want me to leave… or would you rather I stayed?” she asked, letting the words linger between them. There was no rush, no pressure—just a subtle probing, a gentle invitation for Sarah to reveal what she really wanted, even if she wasn’t ready to say it outright. Dream shrugged lightly, a casual smirk tugging at her lips. “I can go or I can stay,” she said, her tone easy, almost teasing. “I'm not busy.”

[sarahendrix]

leaving was easier than staying the night, she was scared of compromise of course she was, but sometimes those nights didn’t even start because she felt lonely, only because she needed an escape, she needed to run away from her parents, and making them feel bad about how she was acting was her own way of rebelling, which had led her to that moment. she had done the same thing to dream before, and what normally happened was that she would ignore them, but dream was dedicated to stay, trying to break down her walls or whatever, and that wasn’t going to be easy, not when sarah had practiced for so many years. seeing that girl she had once slept with made her want to stand up and leave, she wasn’t supposed to be there, and she wasn’t going to say it was dream’s fault out loud, but if she had kept walking she wouldn’t have felt that way around either of them. sarah had unsettled many people in the past, and those girls were only two names in a long list she would never want to confront. she tried to end the conversation quickly by asking dream, just wanting the bartender to stop talking to her. as dream ordered for herself, she noticed the change in dream’s expression, she was surprised the other had reacted this way, she felt she had been holding her breath, something in her broke, maybe a wall, maybe something else. she looked at dream for a second, not looking surprised, surprise that someone had stepped up to speak for her, and she took her phone out and paid for both orders. “bye, kelly,” she mused, now holding dream’s hand and pulling her away from the line. “why did you do that?,” and the wall was up again.

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream noticed the hesitation in Sarah, the way she was twitchy around the bartender, trying to end the conversation before it even began. Dream didn’t judge—she had learned that walls weren’t easy to break, not when someone had been practicing to keep everyone out for years. Still, she didn’t like watching someone struggle in silence. When the bartender stepped in, Dream leaned forward without thinking, clear and direct. “We’re good. Thanks.” Simple. No drama, no arguing, just taking control of the moment. She saw Sarah stiffen, saw the tiny shift in her expression—the subtle release of tension, a wall crumbling just a fraction. Dream tugged Sarah by the hand away from the line. She kept it casual. She shrugged, easy and open. “Because you didn’t need to deal with that. And I’m not about to watch you do it alone.” She didn’t push, didn’t lecture, just stated it plain. It was blunt, but there was care behind it. Dream had no patience for pretense—but she had plenty of patience for people she actually cared about. “That girl was trying to cause drama or a scene,” she said, half-smiling, “and you know me—I don’t bow to bullshit.” Simple. Clear. No arguing, no extra noise.

[sarahendrix]

sarah hated how easy it had become for people to read her, first lennon and now dream, and it made her angry at herself for being so weak, for letting anyone close enough to see through her walls—walls she had spent years building but that somehow her sister had managed to crack open just by coming back into her life; now she wasn’t the same girl she used to be, the one who kept everyone at arm’s length, and she resented that dream could see her too, “i’m not surviving, you don’t know me, dream, i’m not acting, this is me,” she snapped, her voice sharp but her gaze breaking away almost immediately as dream spoke about their own walls, about daring people to climb them, and it left her staring at the menu just to avoid those eyes that had too much power over her; when dream said she wouldn’t turn her into a metaphor because she was a person, not some story, sarah’s brows furrowed but she didn’t argue, even if that wasn’t the reason she avoided becoming someone’s words—it was easier to let it slide, easier to keep quiet, but the way dream said “us” made her bite the inside of her cheek and shake her head, “i’m not soft, that’s not like us then,” another wall stacking itself back up; she didn’t like reading, she never had, and maybe her struggles with it had always made it feel like a burden, but the way dream’s voice softened when she spoke made her uneasy in ways she didn’t want to admit; the barista’s arrival was a welcome distraction, though when dream teased lightly, sarah looked back at her and muttered, “i always order the same thing, i don’t usually eat breakfast, just coffee, always too late to have anything else,” and then the girl was there, someone sarah had hooked up with before, flashing her a grin that made her stomach twist, “black coffee, sarah?” the girl asked, and sarah nodded, “yes, no sugar,” only for the barista’s smirk to twist into something sharper, “you were never there when i woke up, and now you’re having coffee with someone?” she said, and sarah ignored the sting in her voice, forcing herself to turn back to dream instead, her tone flat but steady, “she wants a cupcake and… what else, dream?”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream noticed the way Sarah’s defenses were still flaring—walls built over years, cracking only when Dream had dared to step close. She could feel the heat of Sarah’s anger at herself, at letting anyone in, and it made Dream’s chest tighten in sympathy. When she said she wouldn’t turn Sarah into a metaphor, that she saw her as a person and not a story, Dream caught the small frown that didn’t turn into argument. She understood—it wasn’t about being romanticised, it was about control, about keeping the parts of herself that mattered safe. Then the girl from Sarah’s past appeared, flashing a grin that made Dream's stomach twist. Dream watched her carefully, seeing how Sarah forced her attention back to her, voice flat but steady. Dream felt it immediately—the subtle tension in Sarah’s body, the way her jaw tightened and her eyes flicked away. She watched Sarah step back, forcing herself to stay calm, but Dream noticed the pattern now: Sarah had done this before. She wasn’t just leaving Dream out of her walls; she had left others behind, too. For the first time, Dream realised she wasn’t the only one Sarah had unsettled, the only one who had felt the sting of being pushed aside. It didn’t lessen what Sarah meant to her—it just made the walls she’d built even more understandable. “A chocolate cupcake and a caramel coffee, two sugars.” Dream’s gaze lingered on the barista as she leaned over the counter, taking in the familiar grin, the way she carried herself, the small smirk that made Dream’s stomach twist. “Also,” Dream said, her voice low but firm, “no talking about Sarah while you’re serving me. Yes, she’s here with me, deal with it. . So go and make our drinks… and go over-think why she's now here with me instead."

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream didn’t argue when Sarah insisted on paying for her own drink. She could sense the subtle tension behind it—this unspoken line Sarah was drawing, like letting someone else pay meant giving away control, meant needing something she didn’t want to need. Dream understood that kind of boundary better than most, so she just nodded, letting it go without making it a thing. She stayed gentle, patient. She didn’t know much about Sarah either, not really—except that there was something underneath all that sharpness, something scared, something tired. And she cared. Maybe too quickly, maybe too easily, but she did. That was a green flag of Dream's personality. So when Sarah said, Everyone is, in response to Dream trying to explain that she wasn’t just a one-night stand or someone good in bed, Dream didn’t flinch. Her voice was soft, but honest. “I’m not trying to fix you, Sarah” she said. “I just want to be someone you don’t have to perform for.” When she confessed that her own reality wasn’t what she wanted, and Sarah replied, Dream blinked, surprised by the insight. There was warmth in that moment—brief, fleeting—but real. "Exactly. I'm working towards my own personal growth." Sarah's compliment hit Dream harder than she expected. Compliments always did. She smiled shyly, biting back the instinct to deflect. “Thank you,” Dream murmured, her voice catching a little. At the door, Sarah opened it for her, and though she didn’t say anything, the gesture alone spoke more than she probably meant it to. Dream walked in beside her, the silence stretching again until Sarah finally asked what she studied in a tone that made Dream glance over, amused. Dream gave her a crooked smile, amused but not mocking. “Well, you’re trying. That counts.” She paused for a beat, then added, “English lit. And gender studies. Not a surprise, I know.” She let out a soft laugh, brushing a hand through her hair. “I like stories,” she said. “Especially the ones where girls like us get to have something soft for once. I want to write about women being in love with other women. Dream glanced over at Sarah, a playful glint in her eyes as a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Who knows?” she said softly, tilting her head just a little. “Maybe I’ll make you into a character.” Her voice was light, teasing—but underneath, there was a quiet sincerity, like the idea wasn’t entirely a joke. Like maybe she already had.

[sarahendrix]

sarah didn’t know why she had agreed to get coffee with dream—didn’t know why she had even stopped when she bumped into her. she hated herself for it. now everything was complicated. now dream wanted to take her out, and for what? a hookup? a pity conversation? she wasn’t going to let her pay for her coffee—she never let anyone do that. that would mean caring, or letting someone care about her, and she had drawn that line a long time ago. she could feel dream trying to see past her, trying to read into her, and she hated that she’d cracked, hated that she’d filled the silence with a stupid comment. “why?” she snapped. “why do you want me to stop acting or whatever it is you think i’m doing? i’m not acting. i don’t know why you’re so sure i don’t know who i am.” her voice was sharper than she meant, and she hated herself for being so cold to someone like dream—someone soft, sweet, the kind of girl who made her stomach twist just by getting flustered. she was such an asshole. inside the coffee shop, sarah crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she scanned the menu. “it doesn’t,” she said quietly, “but if you want to see it that way, go for it.” she glanced sideways. “that’s cool, i guess. i’m not into reading,” she shrugged, “but i know a lot of people are. i see those tiktok reviews, people falling for whatever’s trendy—cowboys, hockey players, porn fairies,” she added dryly. when dream looked at her after mentioning writing about women loving women, sarah immediately looked away. “don’t make me into a character,” she warned, trying to sound less harsh, maybe even teasing. “but that’s a good idea. most stories are about straight couples. you could help people by writing that.” then, softer, curious in spite of herself, “i’m going to guess you’re already writing something?”

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream had never been the kind of person to push — not because she wasn’t capable of standing her ground, but because she believed in people arriving at their own truth when they were ready. And when it came to Sarah, she saw more than what was being said. She saw the fear behind the bite, the tension in every shrug, the way her eyes darted like she was always preparing to be hurt. Dream didn’t flinch when Sarah snapped at her outside the coffee shop. Didn’t raise her voice. Just tilted her head slightly, calm and steady. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat and answered, voice low and even: “I don’t think you’re acting, Sarah. I think you’re surviving. And there’s a difference.” No judgment. No pity. Just truth — gentle, but grounded. “And I’m not sure of anything about you, not really. I just… I see someone who keeps raising walls and daring people to climb them, just to prove they won’t. That doesn’t mean I know you. It just means I’m not afraid to look.” Inside, while Sarah scanned the menu, Dream stayed patient. She didn’t try to fix the tension in the air — she let it exist. Sometimes people needed space to sit with themselves before they could sit with anyone else. “You don’t have to like what everyone else does. You don’t have to like anything, honestly,” she said, “But just because something’s popular doesn’t make it meaningless. Sometimes people fall in love with things because they finally feel seen there." And when Sarah warned, don’t make me into a character, Dream nodded, calm and careful. “Alright, I won’t,” she said sincerely. “You’re a person, not a metaphor. I get that.” She took a quiet breath, then smiled again — this time with something real behind it. “But yeah, I am writing something. And it’s about women like us. Messy. Brave. Sharp. Tired. Soft when no one’s looking.” She glanced over, her voice a little gentler now. “People who’ve been hurt but still show up.” Dream let the silence sit for a second, then added, “I write because I didn’t get stories like that growing up. And I think we all deserve to see someone like us make it through. A hero in their own right." She looked back at Sarah with eyes full of quiet care. Dream glanced up as the waitress made her way toward their table, then looked back at Sarah with a soft, curious smile. "Right," she said, voice warm, steady. "The barista is heading over. Already know what you're going to order, or are you going to panic-pick something and pretend it was your first choice?" She said it lightly, teasing just enough to ease the tension without making fun of her. "I might order a cupcake on the side," she said casually, her tone light but sincere. "I haven’t eaten yet. Have you?"

[sarahendrix]

as dream agreed to let her pay for her own drink, sarah felt a small wave of relief. paying for someone else’s stuff outside of a party setting meant commitment. that wasn’t something she wanted—why would she want dream to pay for something for her? at least the other girl had been either honest or a good liar about paying. that was something sarah didn’t know how to cope with; she didn’t need people taking care of her—she knew how to do that. that’s what she had always done. her attempt to fill the awkward silence only made things a little weirder. she didn’t know dream—the only things she knew were that she was pretty, seemed to care, was trying to get her to open up, and was good in bed. that was it. what else could she say to fill the silence? "everyone is," she said as dream told her she was more than a one-night stand or someone good in bed. as the other girl confessed that her reality wasn’t what she wanted, sarah nodded. "it’s not about what people complain about, it’s about what you want," she added. "i don’t know how many can say that, but you’re the prettiest one," she said with a soft smile before looking straight ahead. as they reached the door, she opened it for the girl beside her. she didn’t say anything else after that—she honestly wasn’t good at conversation. she didn’t have that sweet edge dream had; she was all sharp edges. "what do you study?" she asked in a poor attempt to keep the conversation going so the silence wouldn’t take over the room. "conversations aren’t my thing."

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream didn’t argue when Sarah insisted on paying for her own drink. She could sense the subtle tension behind it—this unspoken line Sarah was drawing, like letting someone else pay meant giving away control, meant needing something she didn’t want to need. Dream understood that kind of boundary better than most, so she just nodded, letting it go without making it a thing. She stayed gentle, patient. She didn’t know much about Sarah either, not really—except that there was something underneath all that sharpness, something scared, something tired. And she cared. Maybe too quickly, maybe too easily, but she did. That was a green flag of Dream's personality. So when Sarah said, Everyone is, in response to Dream trying to explain that she wasn’t just a one-night stand or someone good in bed, Dream didn’t flinch. Her voice was soft, but honest. “I’m not trying to fix you, Sarah” she said. “I just want to be someone you don’t have to perform for.” When she confessed that her own reality wasn’t what she wanted, and Sarah replied, Dream blinked, surprised by the insight. There was warmth in that moment—brief, fleeting—but real. "Exactly. I'm working towards my own personal growth." Sarah's compliment hit Dream harder than she expected. Compliments always did. She smiled shyly, biting back the instinct to deflect. “Thank you,” Dream murmured, her voice catching a little. At the door, Sarah opened it for her, and though she didn’t say anything, the gesture alone spoke more than she probably meant it to. Dream walked in beside her, the silence stretching again until Sarah finally asked what she studied in a tone that made Dream glance over, amused. Dream gave her a crooked smile, amused but not mocking. “Well, you’re trying. That counts.” She paused for a beat, then added, “English lit. And gender studies. Not a surprise, I know.” She let out a soft laugh, brushing a hand through her hair. “I like stories,” she said. “Especially the ones where girls like us get to have something soft for once. I want to write about women being in love with other women. Dream glanced over at Sarah, a playful glint in her eyes as a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Who knows?” she said softly, tilting her head just a little. “Maybe I’ll make you into a character.” Her voice was light, teasing—but underneath, there was a quiet sincerity, like the idea wasn’t entirely a joke. Like maybe she already had.

[sarahendrix]

sarah had never been good with feelings—not with other people’s, and definitely not with her own. she’d learned to keep everything locked up, ignored whatever wasn’t rage or indifference, because those were the only emotions she knew how to handle. she hated her family, and she used sex to forget, leaving without a word like it meant nothing—because to her, it couldn’t mean anything. that was how dream ended up collateral damage. when dream told her she didn’t get to decide who she cared about, sarah had furrowed her brows, caught off guard by how raw and honest that response was. if it had been her, she would’ve started a fight, pushed until the other person hated her back. she didn’t understand why dream hadn’t just walked away already. when dream agreed to get coffee, sarah nodded quickly, "i'm not letting you pay for my thing, you get yours and i get mine," like accepting a drink came with some kind of silent promise she wasn’t ready to make. she followed her like a stray—angry, bitter, but following anyway. when dream bumped her shoulder and kept walking, sarah paused for a second, confused by the casual contact, by the way it made her exhale like she’d been holding her breath the whole time. she walked up beside her again but didn’t speak for a few minutes. she didn’t know anything about dream, not really—but for some reason, she cared. "you’re good in bed," she said finally, awkward and blunt, because that was the only thing she knew for sure about her, and even that felt like it didn't mean too much

[dreamdarlingox]

"Deal. I didn’t bring enough change out with me to get two drinks anyway." Dream paused at Sarah’s blunt comment, raising an eyebrow as she processed the words. Sarah, so guarded and sharp in her own way, had always been a mystery to Dream. Her walls were high, her defenses impenetrable. But Dream could see through them, at least a little—she could feel the undercurrent of something else beneath Sarah’s anger and indifference. With a quiet laugh, Dream’s lips curled into a half-smile, her eyes softening. "Thanks," she said, the words a bit lighter than they should’ve been, considering the tension between them. "But I’m more than that, you know." The words hung in the air for a moment, an invitation of sorts, though Dream didn’t press. She didn’t need to. Sarah had her own way of showing she cared—fierce, guarded, and strangely honest in her own way. Dream glanced at Sarah, her voice steady but with a hint of self-awareness. "I’m good in bed with the wrong equipment that I want. Might as well use it while I can though, right?" She said it matter-of-factly, as though acknowledging a truth she had learned to live with, but there was a touch of something unspoken beneath the words—something raw and real. Dream’s words came out quietly, but with an undeniable certainty. “One day, I want what you’ve got,” she said, her voice steady, as if it was something she had been thinking about for a long time. “And then I’ll be living my whole truth. But what I have works for the time being." Dream’s voice was steady, a quiet confidence in her words. “No complaints from other people so far. Maybe it’s a surprise and it’s a tension breaker, for sure. I’m pretty, and I currently have a dick." She said it without shame, without the need for validation, as though the words didn’t need further explanation. Being trans wasn’t something she tiptoed around—it just was, part of who she was. There was something about the way she said it that made it clear: this was her truth, and she owned it completely. "Not many girls can say that, huh?"

[sarahendrix]

sarah was desperately trying to push her away, there was something in her that somehow managed to make its way into her cracks, she didn’t want that. she didn’t want dream knowing how she felt. she would have left if someone had talked to her the way she did, but there was dream, standing there looking at her as if there wasn’t anything wrong with her, even if that was just a lie. and she couldn’t leave, she was there pouring her heart out as if she knew dream, as if the other was more than just a past hookup that she had ignored. everything would have been easier if dream had slapped her across the face, told her she was an asshole for doing what she did and just walked away, but she didn’t seem like the type of person who would ever do that. maybe it was the way she looked at her, the patience — that was what was making the girl crack. she didn’t know what it was but in that moment sarah was feeling so many things and she didn’t know how to even react. she had started talking and couldn’t even stop herself. the one thing she knew was that she didn’t want her knowing — why would she? so she could hurt her. she had been really clear about how she worked, but she didn’t know if that would be enough to make the other leave. as she told her she cared, sarah shook her head. "no, dream, you can’t care about me, you shouldn’t even try this" she shook her head. she let out a sigh, why couldn’t she just leave. she hated herself for asking for coffee — who even was that? she felt a pressure in her chest, she wanted to scream, cry, and walk away all at the same time. she could say she didn’t want a normal conversation but why in the world had she asked for coffee if deep down that wasn’t what she wanted. "you don’t know that" she shook her head. "i just want coffee, don’t think i’ll talk about my feelings or anything as if you were my therapist" she pointed out, she was being too harsh. she always was. "let’s go"

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream stood still. She didn’t flinch as Sarah pushed back—desperately, angrily, the way someone does when they're trying to stop themselves from falling apart. Dream had seen that look before, in others, but on Sarah, it cracked something open in her. And still, she didn’t move. She just looked at her. She listened, taking in the sharp edges of Sarah’s words, her rejection wrapped in defense mechanisms and self-loathing. Dream didn’t take it personally. It wasn’t about her. It never had been. “Look,” she said, “you don’t get to tell me who I can care about.” There was no heat in it, no drama—just truth. Quiet, unwavering, and meant to stay. She watched the chaos in Sarah’s eyes, the weight in her chest practically radiating outward. Dream didn’t need Sarah to say it—she could see it all written in her body language, her eyes, the tremble in her voice when she tried to play it cool. I just want coffee. But they both knew that wasn’t the truth. Still, Dream nodded. She didn’t call her out, didn’t challenge her with some dramatic line. She just tilted her head slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s go.” She turned, walking just slow enough for Sarah to catch up if she wanted. Dream didn’t need a confession. She just needed a start. Dream let a small smirk tug at the corner of her lips, her tone light but laced with affection as she glanced back at Sarah. “What’s your coffee order again? I’ll pay for it,” she said, casually slipping her hands into her pockets. “God knows you could use one.” It was teasing, just enough to soften the tension—but behind it, there was care. The kind that didn’t need to be loud to be real. She stood still and waited. “Maybe a coffee will help shift your crankiness,” she said, letting the words land with a teasing lilt. She bumped her shoulder lightly against Sarah’s, just enough to pull a small reaction—maybe even a smile—before looking ahead again like she hadn’t said anything at all.

[sarahendrix]

sarah hated how dream seemed to read her like a book, her walls slowly crumbling, and she couldn't stand how easily the girl was seeing through them. she felt small, and while others might feel relieved by that, she didn’t. if people knew why she hurt, they could hurt her even more. she didn’t want to open up, didn’t want to risk getting hurt. why was dream listening to her? why did she care to hear what sarah had to say? it made her mad—dream was getting her to open up about things she didn’t want to without even trying. why was she feeling this way? she didn’t need to talk about it, she was fine with keeping her emotions bottled up. "thanks, but i'm fine," she muttered, trying to rebuild her walls. "thanks for the offer, but talking is overrated," she shook her head. she’d managed fine the last couple of years with her feelings buried deep inside. she knew she'd be fine, no matter what happened. she wanted to push the idea of opening up to someone away, didn’t want to even think about it. "sorry, dream, but you don’t know the person you’re trying to see. you don’t know anything about me," she shook her head. "you don’t know anything about her," she added with a sigh. "dream, you’re sweet, but you know this isn’t going to happen, right?" she asked softly. "i don’t like talking about me, and i won’t let you care enough to know me," she mused. "that’s how i work," she whispered. "that’s how i make sure no one can hurt me." she looked away, a tear slipping down her face, which she quickly wiped away. maybe dream was right—maybe she needed someone to confide in, but it wasn’t going to be easy. sarah went silent for a moment before speaking again. "can we grab coffee?"

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream listened closely, her gaze never wavering from Sarah, even as the other girl tried to push her away, walling herself up like she always did. Dream could feel the tension in the air, the way Sarah's words dripped with deflection, each one a plea for Dream to back off. But Dream wasn’t going to back down that easily. She could see through the walls Sarah built, could hear the pain in her voice even when she masked it with her tough exterior. It wasn’t that Dream was trying to invade or force Sarah to talk—she just knew there was more beneath the surface, something that needed to be said, something Sarah wasn’t letting herself face. And that frustrated Dream, because she knew how it felt to keep everything buried inside. When Sarah muttered that she was fine, Dream’s heart sank. She wanted to reach out, to grab Sarah by the shoulders and make her understand that she didn’t have to carry all this on her own. But instead, Dream stayed still, a quiet understanding in her eyes. Sarah was so used to pretending, to running from her feelings, but Dream couldn’t ignore how much pain was behind that mask. She wasn’t going to let Sarah push her away without trying to reach her, though. As Sarah shook her head, rejecting her offer, Dream’s expression softened. She could feel the anger radiating off her, could see the way she was shutting down. But Dream wasn’t angry, just patient. I don’t know you? Dream thought. Maybe not. But I want to. When Sarah said she didn’t like talking about herself, Dream gave a small, quiet nod. She didn’t need to hear all the details, she didn’t need to know everything—she just wanted Sarah to know that she mattered. That’s why Dream kept listening. Because no one should have to carry all that weight alone. “I know I don’t know everything about you, Sarah,” Dream finally said, her voice calm, but unwavering. “But I want to. I care, whether you like it or not. You don’t have to talk about anything you’re not ready for, but I’m here. I’ll listen when you are.” When Sarah finally spoke again, Dream didn’t hesitate. She let a small, knowing smile tug at her lips, relieved that Sarah was opening up, even if just a little. “Coffee sounds good to me,” she said softly. “We don’t have to talk about anything. Just normal conversations if that's what you need." Dream could be her friend if she needed one. “I’m not asking you to be anything or do anything, Sarah,” Dream continued, her tone soft but firm. “I’m not trying to change you. I’m just offering to be your friend… if that’s what you want. No pressure. You're also hurting yourself enough on your own," Dream added quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "And you don’t have to keep doing that either."

[sarahendrix]

sarah wanted to run. the same way she had felt herself cracking when she first reconnected with her sister, she felt it now—like she couldn’t control the words spilling from her lips. dream was listening, really listening, but knowing she was saying things she had sworn to keep secret made her want to bolt. she didn’t want to keep opening up. she preferred being the girl who didn’t talk about feelings, the girl who slept around and never needed permission. but with dream looking at her the way she did, it was making her break apart. she felt guilty. guilty for leaving after they slept together, guilty for not being there when dream woke up. something that, if she had ever felt in the past, she had buried so deep that it never mattered by morning. when dream told her she didn’t have to apologize, sarah furrowed her brows. but she did. she felt like she had to. she had been a bitch to someone who was more like an angel. and when dream said she was there if she ever needed to talk, sarah tensed. she didn’t want that. she didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to open up. she didn’t need relationships. she didn’t need people who wanted to take care of her. the idea of someone caring about her that much made something inside her twist, made her shake her head softly. "thanks, but i’m okay," she promised, even though she knew it was a lie. she felt trapped, trapped by her own personality, her own walls. "thanks," she said again, quieter this time, even though she already knew she wasn’t going to tell anyone about any of this. her gaze dropped for a second before she spoke again. "i don’t get it, though," she admitted. "you keep saying i have a friend in you and all, but after the way i treated you, you could’ve just slapped me and walked away." she paused, studying dream, her voice laced with something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name. "why are you doing this?" her fingers curled slightly against her palms, and for the first time, her voice betrayed a hint of insecurity, something she usually kept buried under sarcasm and indifference. "you don’t owe me anything."

[dreamdarlingox]

Dream could see it—the hesitation in Sarah's eyes, the way she struggled with her own vulnerability. She was pulling away again, just like the first time, but this time it felt different. Dream noticed the small tremors in Sarah’s words, the way her breath caught before she spoke. There was a conflict there, one Dream could feel in her bones. Sarah didn’t want to open up. She didn’t want to be the girl who admitted weakness, who asked for help, or who needed anything. But Dream wasn’t going to let her slip away this time, not when Sarah was this close to breaking through. She listened without interrupting, without judgment, giving Sarah space to let her emotions. Dream didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, Sarah’s walls had cracked just enough for Dream to see the parts of her that no one else had ever touched—maybe not even Sarah herself. And when Sarah apologised, Dream’s heart softened. She had a sense of what Sarah was going through, the guilt, the inability to deal with everything she'd buried deep inside. Dream couldn’t just ignore it, couldn’t turn away when someone was so desperately trying to hold themselves together. When Sarah tensed at her offer, Dream didn’t push. She simply nodded, her gaze steady but warm. "I know," she said softly, her voice gentle as she looked at Sarah. "You don’t have to tell me anything. You’re allowed to keep your distance. I’m not here to force you to open up. But I am here... if you ever want to talk." When Sarah spoke again, her voice was laced with a quiet honesty, and Dream’s heart ached for her. She didn’t get it—of course she didn’t. How could she? But Dream wasn’t doing this out of obligation or pity. No, it was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name either, but it wasn’t about owing or paying back. Dream leaned forward slightly, her eyes soft and unwavering as she met Sarah’s gaze. "I’m doing this because I care about people," she said simply, her voice steady but sincere. "I’m here because I see you. I see past the walls you’ve built, and I see the person you’re trying so hard to protect." She gave Sarah a small, understanding smile, her fingers unconsciously reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Sarah’s face. "And maybe you don’t owe me anything. But I don’t need you to owe me anything. I’m here because you matter, even if you can’t see it right now." Dream’s voice softened, the intensity of her words replaced with quiet affection. "I’ve been in that place," she said softly, her tone thick with understanding. "Where I didn’t have anyone, where life felt like it was against me. Where I thought I had nobody left." Her fingers brushed the fabric of her own sleeve absentmindedly, the weight of her own past grounding her words. "But what I’ve learned is that everybody needs someone to confide in."