Stygiophobia

Liar

It's been a while now, eventually both Dream and George realized that George could only eat rotten souls. Other demons would give Dream such odd looks when he'd walk away with one black soul, and one white soul, but he never said anything about it.

Dream spent most of his time gaining George's loyalty. Fallen angels were always quick to trust, no matter how smart they were. However, their loyalty always laid with the lord, so Dream spent countless hours figuring out what he could do.

Dream noticed how quickly George would melt into any touch given to him, and how desperate he looked after Dream stopped. So, obviously, after every single threat, shout, or any harsh words Dream would throw at George, he'd hold him close and let him weep.

George craved it. So much so, that every time Dream would get upset, he'd take it with a few tears, and become excited for the gentle care.

However, it's not always so simple as yelling.

Dream has slowly been realizing that George acts very slow, and quiet. He was unaware that George hardly sleeps, despite Dream insisting to rest. George would pretend to sleep, so that Dream wouldn't feel bad about sleeping himself.

George still found it hard to accept comfort, so every night he convinced himself that he was bringing Dream comfort instead, this way he could explain to the lord that he was only on a soft surface to help someone else instead of himself.

Dream, over time, figured out about George's little lies. He did not take kindly to it.

"So, my pretty little angel, would you care to explain to me why you've been so tired?" Dreams tone was ruthless, anger pouring from his eyes. George had really dared to disobey him.

"Sir, I'm very sorry." Before George couldn't even finish the sentence, Dream shouted out again.

"How do you think this makes me feel, Angel? I spend all my time trying to keep you far away from the rotten lord, and still you comply to his rules!? Under my roof?!" Dream was not pleased, in fact, he was seething.

It's the things George does for the lord, still without question following the rules the lord has made. At this rate, the lord may actually consider taking George back. The thought made Dream even more angry.

The angel was his. No one else's. The lords nuns and priests had hurt George countless times, and still he did not see any issue. Blood boiling.

"I'm very sorry. Please, please forgive me." George pleaded on the floor. He still, after all this time, refused to sit on any couches or soft surfaces.

"I spent every morning wondering why you were always awake before me, why your breathing patterns never changed through out the night, why you never seem to get any less tired, and it was because of this!? Listen here, angel, I'm only trying to do what is best for you." Dream shouted to no ends, watching George tremble at each word. It made him wonder if he ever shook before the lord. Chances were, yes.

"But I'm so unhappy here." George whispered, as tears began to pour down his face. He missed the heavens, despite how poorly he was treated.

"Unhappy?" Dream couldn't even decipher how that word made him feel. Hurt? Maybe. Confused? Most definitely.

Maybe it was the constant pushing he put on George, or making him do all kinds of things he didn't want to do. Maybe it was simply missing his former home?

"Yes. Being here is just showing me that I wasn't treated well in my mortal years. Or even in the heavens. I just, I don't know where I belong anymore. Sometimes I think if I just let my soul wither away, I'd be happier." George cried, hugging on tightly to himself. "You treat me better than any of my priests or nuns did, and I don't know how to deal with that pain." If George wasn't a quiet angel, he may have shouted in suffocating, overwhelmed sorrow.