Stygiophobia

All yours

"Alright, I think we've been here long enough, don't you Sapnap?" Dream stretched his arms over his head, checking the time from the clock on the wall in the process. It was certainly much later than what he was used to, let alone what George was used to.

"Yeah, I'm about ready to roll over and die here!" Sapnap laughed to the best of his intoxicated abilities, in return making Karl sigh. Everyone was tired; time was different in hell than to the living world, but only because the sun didn't exist down here. In the living world, it was around four in the morning, which in hell meant that most demons were going to sleep. Demons don't have a specific time to sleep, just when they're tired. There is no responsibility in hell.

"Yes, I'm leaving here now anyways. It's a little bright in this room, you know? Besides, I told Skeppy we could have some souls before we go to bed." Bad seemed less cheery than when he had first arrived, presumably because of how tired he had gotten. It had been hours.

It's surely odd, to think that souls of demonic and sinful descent still felt something as simple as drowsiness, but alas, neither death nor perishment could ever bring an end to the irritating relief of sleep. Demons should be exempt, and yet we still suffer.

George had become increasingly more quiet as the night went on, seeming to take slower breaths, and responding slower to questions. It was actually quite cute, even if it was something that happens to everyone. It's something about George; everything he does is insufferably attractive in every single way possible.

"Alright then, Sapnap, Thanks for having me over. We should all do this more often!" Dream smiled with a specific charm, which overall stated that he was ready to put his smile away for the night and just relax in his own home.

"Yeah, maybe at our house next time, that way Bad can stop complaining so much about the light." Skeppy was done smiling for the night, it appeared, he was definitely tired, and completely over socializing.

"I don't complain that much!" Bad retorted, giving Skeppy a soft punch in the arm.

"Sure. Anyways, angel? Are you ready to go?" George barely made an effort to look up, only nodding his head slowly against Dream's shoulder, trying his hardest to at least keep his eyes open. "Alright, let's head home and go to bed." Dream stood up slowly, forcefully trying to seem as awake and alive as possible to not appear weak in any way.

It was a stupid action by him whenever he did anything, because his subconscious mind made him want to seem scary. He did not like it when people came up to him, he never will; he'd rather be lonely. His only exceptions are few and far between, barely even allowing ten people to be an exception. It was exhausting, so he normally just stayed home. Besides, George didn't seem to mind, and if he ever asked to go outside, he would receive an immediate yes no matter what the circumstances were.

Dream gently picked up George, holding him close to his chest hoping it would bring warmth. It never would; His skin is nothing short of ice. George still loved him even if he was a horrific icicle.

"We're going home now, right?" George's eyes seemed so foggy, which could only mean one of two things. One, he's hazed again, or preferably two, he's just really tired. Something was telling Dream that it wasn't the first option.

"Yes, angel, we're going home now." Dream smiled just from the sound of his voice, his lacid body, everything about him, really.

The devil was once a man feared by the masses, someone of anguish and self-despair. Yet here he stood, a pretty boy barely awake in his arms, and surrounded by friends built on years and trust. He didn't feel feared. Maybe that was a good thing, and he just couldn't see it yet.