look, it's a song!

Guys....I think next chapter is the last chapter. I'm genuinely so sad, I love all of you guys so much <3 😞

//

𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝒫𝒪𝒱

I was surprised when Taylor recognized the sweet melody of Frank Sinatra.

Then again, I probably shouldn't be. Anyone who spends a considerable amount of time at Kristin's probably has Frank Sinatra and Micheal Bublé running through their veins by now. Her playlist consists of them, and whatever Taylor Swift songs happened to be stuck in her head that given day.

So when Taylor starts singing along to Fly Me to the Moon, the frown that usually adorns René's face when kids come in, turns upside down almost immediately.

"My dears," She smiles, planting her hands on George's cheeks, leaving her signature red lipstick on his skin. She does the same to me, then raises an eyebrow. "You know you have to book an appointment Dream."

"We had an emergency." I wince sheepishly, reaching down to hold Taylor's shoulders. The girl in question was staring at the rainbow of ties in the corner, eyes sparkling with interest.

"Now, who are you?" René smiles, leaning down to look her in the eye.

"Taylor. Pleasure to meet you." She tips her chin down in greeting.  George's jaw drops. Mine follows.

"The pleasure is all mine," René laughs, gentle surprise stretched across her face as well. She holds out her hand and Taylor looks up at me. I nod encouragingly and she takes it. "Where did you kidnap this child from Dream? She has more manners than you,"

"Hey!"  I complain.

"You really need to work on those Dream," George sighs, dragging his finger across his neck in my peripheral, shaking his head. I whip my head around, only to see a tiny smirk pulling at his lips. Oh my god.

"Uh huh," René looks a bit disgruntled and I curse silently at George who has the subtlety equivalent to one of one of those weird inflatables at car dealerships. "So, I'm guessing we're looking for a dress for Taylor, yes?"

She says this as she walks, and George and I hurry to keep up with her and Taylor, who were fast-walking through the connecting hallway leading to her dress shop. Soft blacks and midnight blues of her fine suits turn to a wide array of multicolored dresses ranging from business dresses for women, to prom dresses, and even dresses for kids; although René only really imports really expensive dresses for kids that rich people would be interested in.

But that's exactly what we're looking for so I don't really mind.

Taylor's expression is absolutely priceless. But a frown quickly replaces her childish wonder. "Dream. This looks really, really expensive." She looks downcast, and I bite my lip, looking at the crestfallen expression on George's face.

Of course, I'll pay for it; she shouldn't have to worry about things being too expensive. She should be worried about which color looks the prettiest on her. Before I can tell her that, George pipes up. "Dream's too poor to buy the princess what she deserves, but I'm not. Taylor, your prince has come to the rescue."

Taylor giggles in delight, looking up at me as if to ask if it's alright. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." I sigh, shooting a dirty look at George who just smiles.

"Okay dear, come with me. We'll leave them to flirt or whatever those imbéciles were doing." She shakes her head, leading Taylor over to the dressing room to get her measurements.

"You're an idiot," I mumble as George and I settle in the viewing room, waiting for them to come out.

"No, you." He retorts instantly, rolling his eyes when I search for his hand. He yawns, feigning exhaustion when he drops his cheek against my shoulder.

"So uh." I start. His eyes flicker open, narrowing at the sheepishness in my voice. "I hired Cameron this morning..."

I feel him go rigid against me. "You what?" He lifts himself off my shoulder, looking me in the eyes with a conflicted expression as though he couldn't decide if he should get mad or let it go.

"I meant it when I said he'd be an asset to my company George. I don't want to lose someone who's that capable because of well..." I gesture between us and his frown deepens. "I thought you guys were staying friends? Was I wrong?"

"Dream," He sighs, biting his lip. "It's still a bit awkward. I haven't exactly talked to him since we...I don't know, broke up? We weren't really–ugh." He gives up, dark brown hair falling across his eyes when he looks down. "Isn't hiring someone a big process? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I probably should have. But George, you don't work at DTech. It shouldn't be a problem right?" He stays silent and I turn towards him, watching the confusing set of emotions flit across his face. "Are you upset with me?"

"You can hire whoever you want." George mumbles.

"I can." I agree gently. "But that wasn't my question."

He's saved when Taylor comes out, skipping towards us with a cute grin. She grabs George's hand, mumbling something about needing a second opinion. René proceeds to tell me to stay here, claiming I had a "garbage" dress sense, which was furthest from the truth.

George leapt at the opportunity, dropping his hand from mine before they both noticed, and borderline sprints to the racks. I sigh as I watch them, Taylor gravitating to the red dresses as George goes more for the blue. They stack a bunch she likes rather quickly, much to George's blatant dismay.

"Dream!" Taylor calls, holding up her favorite of the little pile. "Like it?"

"Yeah! It looks good!" I shoot her a thumbs up, and she beams, nodding at René. They head over to the dressing room, promising to come out and show them the top ten.

George stays at the racks, shuffling through them halfheartedly as he makes sure to keep his back toward me at all times. I tap my foot against the hardwood until I get antsy, chewing my lip with a deep exhale.

I really didn't think it would bother him. Cameron and George have been friends since undergrad. He even told me that they were good, and would stay friends. If anything, I thought hiring him would show maturity on my part.

Standing up silently, I walk over to where he's been staring at the same dress for the past ten minutes. He doesn't seem to notice as he stares, lost in thought with his arms around his chest.

He freezes when I slot my hands around his waist, leaning down to rest my chin on his shoulder. He stays still, breathing staggering as he decides what to do. Before he can think, I twirl him around to face me, tightening my grip around him.

His face flushed pink in an instant, struggling to keep eye contact. "What are you doing?" He mutters, looking towards the dressing rooms.

"Holding you," I tell him as though it's obvious. Because it is.

"I can see that idiot," He sighs, raising his eyes to press his hands against my stomach. Butterflies erupt around my rib cage with his soft touch. I wait for him to push me away, but he stays, chewing his lip. "Get off. They're going to be back."

"What's wrong?" I ignore him.

"Nothing," He snaps, eyes widening in surprise as he backspaces in real life, stuttering over his words. "Erm...nothing. Sorry, that–uh..."

"George, you're allowed to be upset with me." I remind him, watching as his jaw goes slack.

Being in a relationship doesn't have to be sunshine and rainbows all the time. As much as I wish it could be, it would be really scary if we never disagreed about anything. Especially because this is George. He's supposed to challenge me on everything. That's our whole dynamic.

"I know." He says it like he doesn't believe it. George slips out of my grip, thinking hard. "I'm just–not."

I open my mouth to call his bullshit, but René bursts out of the dressing room behind Taylor who bounds toward us, wearing a beautiful yellow dress that was no doubt René's choosing. The intricate gold designs made it look like the gown from Beauty and the Beast. I'm not surprised that the grin on the girl's face is as wide as it is.

"Dream, Dream, look! I look like an actual princess!" She shrieks, leaping into my arms. I catch her, tickling her armpits with a laugh.

"You do! You look beautiful, Tay." I praise and she positively glows.

George swallows, shooting her a grin. "Look at our princess. All prettied up. Looks good."

"Thank you Prince George," She giggles, doing a little half-curtsy in my arms that makes me want to melt in a puddle of goo. Taylor wiggles, pointing to George and I drop my jaw in offense, giving her to him with a pout.

"See Dream? She likes me better than you." He says, more to her than me. Okay, so he's definitely upset.

"That's not true!" She protests, whispering something into his ear. He wrinkles his nose and laughs, sticking his tongue out at me.

I roll my eyes as George places her down on the floor. She runs up to the mirror, looking at herself with a grin. René lingers, looking between us before shrugging and leaving to usher Taylor back into the dressing room, insisting she tries a few more on before making a decision.

As soon as they're out of sight, I round back to confront George. Before I can say anything however, small hands reach up, pulling my face down. His lips press against mine, eyes squeezed tight as my own widen.

"George–"

"Shut up," He mumbles into my mouth, forcing me down on the couch.

"But,"

He tangles his fingers into my hair and brings us impossibly closer with every kiss, effectively shutting me up. He pulls away, breathing heavily. I catch my own breath, staring at him.

"I'm not upset. See?" He says, leaning back against the soft material.

"Kissing me doesn't immediately make things okay Georgie," I snort.

It was crazy that I was the one convincing him to get mad at me. But this is really scary. I'd rather him yell at me than force down every emotion to keep the shiny bubble of our honeymoon phase intact. I was ready for a debate, or at least a conversation of some sort when I decided to hire Cameron.

"Yes it does," He complains, sticking his middle finger up at me when I laugh.

I scooch over, kissing him delicately. "We'll go home and talk, 'kay?"

"Alright," He sighs, spreading out on the couch in defeat.

We're there for two more hours. Taylor tries on seemingly every dress in her size. Periwinkles and golds, sunset oranges and rosy pinks go by. I suggest a lime green one that everyone wrinkles their noses at. I'm forced back into my "garbage dress sense" corner, pouting and hungry as hell.

René gets another walk-in and she grumbles, promising to make it quick and come back. Taylor sits in her brilliant red gown, toying with the lacy fabric with that grin that hasn't left her face for the entire time we've been here.

"George. Tell me a story." She says, laying her head on his lap. She stretches her legs against mine, looking up at the ceiling.

"I think Dream is better at telling stories." George says, twisting more braids into her copper hair. I watch his fingers work, zoning out with the steady movements.

"I've heard all of Dream's stories," She whines. "Okay, tell me about your date. You forgot to tell me about it!"

"My...date?" He frowns, eyes lighting up when he realizes what she was talking about. "Oh."

"Did it not go well?" She frowns, craning her neck to glance at his expression.

I flush, looking away. Well. This is awkward.

"No, it...it was fine." He stammers. "I–I just...found someone else."

"Someone else?" She repeats, smiling slightly. "Who? Who? Who? Is she cool? I bet she's super cool."

"She's...yeah she's cool." George decides to humor her, avoiding my eyes with a soft expression. She shrieks, jolting up. He chuckles at her enthusiasm. 

"Is she pretty? Prettier than the other one?" She inquiries. This girl is worse than the paparazzi.

George flushes with strawberry embarrassment, but sighs with fake exasperation anyway. She sits criss-cross on the large sofa to listen. "I'd say so. Erm...she's got really nice blonde hair and beautiful green eyes that I wish I could see properly, and an adorable smile. But that's not even the best part about her."

He looks about ready to die. Then again, I was too. 

"What's the best part about her George?" I can't help but ask cheekily, feeling a blush heat up my own cheeks, a bashful grin brightening my face like a lighthouse. Everybody in the room can probably feel the embarrassing amount of happiness radiating off me.

"Shut up Dream, I'm getting to it." He rolls his eyes, looking back at Taylor.

"What's the best part George?" She whines.

He smiles softly at her, avoiding my gaze. "The best part about her is her kindness. She cares about me just as much as I care about her. She's funny too; she makes me laugh more than I ever have before." His voice is syrupy-sweet in a way I haven't heard very often. It's almost fairytale-like. Mesmerizing.

"Like a princess!" She exclaims. George nods along.

"Can I tell you a secret Tay?" She nods eagerly, leaning in. "Everybody at work thinks she's a total badass. Then he comes home to me and turns into a complete baby." He looks away sheepishly, probably realizing how ironic that was considering the other night.

She frowns for a second before plastering a smile back on her face, squishing her own cheeks. "You sound sooooo in love Prince George." She coos.

"Mmhm," He hums in agreement, embarrassment painting his cheeks a deep scarlet. I think my heart may overdose with the amount of cuteness it's had to endure in the past few minutes.

"Are you okay, Dream?" She frowns, looking over at me.

I cough, nodding assuringly. "Yep–yeah. Totally...fi–ne." I cough again and George rolls his eyes, looking anywhere but at me.

"The point is, never settle for less. Because you'll find your own Prince someday and he should treat you with as much respect as mine does." George tells her gently, ruffling her soft hair.

"I—" I struggle to get the words out, completely speechless once again. "I second that."

"Yeah, but your single and alone Dream. You should learn from George here and get yourself your own princess." She sighs, shaking her head like she's disappointed in me.

"Maybe I should take some tips from Georgie." I snort. She nods seriously and I sigh.

–

René comes back, and Taylor ends up staying with the yellow dress. True to his word, George slaps my hand away when I try to pay, looking at the little girl holding his other hand as he insists the Prince should pay for the princess's dress.

Taylor climbs into the passenger seat again with George and falls asleep against his chest, braids wiping around thanks to the window she opened all the way.

We arrive at the soup kitchen much too soon, and I park, walking around the car to open the door for them. George gives Taylor to me and I pick her up, telling him he can stay in the car. He nods, scrolling through his phone as I close the door.

She walks up when we enter, blinking tiredly. "Aww man. You guys will be back right?"

"Of course we will. No more not visiting you for weeks, pinky promise." I tell her, pinching her nose. She giggles and extends her pinky for me to lock with my own.

"So." She grins. "You're George's princess huh?"

I freeze, almost dropping her. "What the—"

"Come on Dream." She rolls her eyes. "It was so obvious. You've been drooling over him ever since you came here with him for the first time. And he jus' described you. I might not be an adult yet, but I'm not an idiot. Admit it." Her grin ramps up tenfold as I try and fail to lie.

"Come on now, who told you all that?" I tickle her and she shrieks, swatting at my arms.

"Auntie Kristin. She said it was super obvious and so I started to pay attention. Come on, you guys are sooo in love." She looks up in thought. "They should make a fairytale with two princes. George could be the prince and you could be his servant...or or! His knight!"

"When you grow older, why don't you write us a story like that?" I suggest.

"I will." She nods with such certainty that I don't doubt it.

–

As soon as I get back to the car, I open the passenger door. George drops his phone into his lap. I kneel to look him in the eye and he looks back at me, chewing his lip. He opens his mouth to try and say something and I quiet him, pressing our lips together feverishly.

"I was talking about my girlfriend," He mumbles, entwining his fingers into my shirt to bring me closer.

"You're so sweet," I grin, pulling back with a sickly-sweet look. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms around his chest.

"Taylor made me," He complains, closing his eyes when I kiss him again.

"I bet you were just yearning to say those things about me," I hum and he makes puking noises, shoving me away playfully. "George, you're such a fucking sap. More than me."

"I'm not. You–you idiot." He stammers.

"Wow. So original."

"Fine. Eres un idiota. Y...ah y estúpido. Ahh..." He subtly pulls out his phone, typing in Google translate. I roll my eyes and wait as he thinks, typing something in. "Si, ah, eres un poco lindo. Un poco."

"What does that mean?" I ask, craning my neck to look over at his phone. He whips it away, locking it quickly.

"It means fuck you." He sticks his tongue out and I stick my middle finger in his face.

"I will." I nod.

"What is wrong with you?"

//

maybe i'll do an epilogue after next chapter 🤭