Love Bites

Chapter 15: Killing The Butterflies

chapter warnings: explicit homophobia, heavy violence

The door closes with a click.

"Really? Davidson?" Wilbur muses to himself, stepping beside Schlatt. "He is the last person I would expect to be involved with blood-suckers."

Schlatt's trained eyes haven't moved from the door since Sapnap had closed it behind him.

"Yes..." Schlatt drawls. His grip on his pen tightens slightly. "I was hoping we wouldn't have any complications. But I suppose life isn't all that simple."

Wilbur crosses his arms, turning to the door. "Well, what do we do?"

Silence.

Wilbur speaks. "We could exile him, but then again-"

He's interrupted by the sound of a quick, precise snap.

Wilbur turns back to the mayor.

Schlatt's right hand is dripping in deep black ink, the staining liquid dripping between his fingers and onto the mahogany. The broken fountain pen remains clutched in his hand.

"We can't afford to take any chances." Schlatt mutters darkly. "We can't just move the problem."

"Then what do we do?" Wilbur asks.

Schlatt closes his hand into a fist around the broken utensil. "We need to destroy it."

Wilbur huffs, an eager smile on his lips. "Fine by me."

"I want Davidson and the vampire captive and alive. Bring them back here right away." Schlatt stands suddenly, jabbing a finger into Wilbur's chest. "Alive, you hear me?"

Wilbur nods, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. "Fine, yes." He replies with a roll of his eyes.

"The officers need to be ready in five." Schlatt says, voice low. "Bring two horse wagons."

"Yes sir." Wilbur says, stepping out of the dimly lit room.

Once he's left, Schlatt turns to face the window. The ink continues to drip from his soaked palm, pitch-black liquid seeping into the wrinkles of his skin. A puddle forms at his feet.

I'm too close just to lose everything now.

----

"Morning, handsome." Dream greets warmly, turning around with a closed umbrella at his side.

The name doesn't even phase George at this point. "Morning." He grins sluggishly.

After last night, they'd both passed out on George's bed and the last thing George remembers is Dream wrapping his arms around his waist before he fell asleep.

George's chest blooms with warmth. He cuddled with me last night. He trusts himself now.

He lets me trust him now.

He rubs his eyes with his palm and walks past Dream into the kitchen. "What's the umbrella for?"

"Well..." Dream follows him into the kitchen, setting the umbrella on the island and walking towards George. "I was thinking we could go out for breakfast this morning- or, for brunch, since you slept forever." He teases lightly.

George feels a hand rest on the top of his head and ruffle his hair lightly, and he allows himself to smile and close his eyes for a moment as he responds. "It's not my fault you don't really need sleep." He retaliates, void of any actual fight in his tone. "Where do you wanna go to eat, anyway? You know you don't even have to come with me for meals."