obsessed | dreamnotfound

05.

Currently, Sapnap is just pacing back and fourth between the kitchen with nerves rolling around in his head. He crosses his arms and his eyes dots over to his phone sitting on the counter, his shifty eyes locking gaze on it, sweat assembled on his face. He wanted to make the call and help his bestfriend, but he had no idea what could that lead to.

Sapnap stops in place, bitting his lip with a concerned look engulfing his face. He soon scurried over to the device, picking it up and dialing a number quickly. He removed his second thoughts out of his way and called the person he needed to talk to the most, honestly desiring himself to hear the boy's voice again.

~

"Jeez, you're house is a mess-" Quackity only grumbles as he enters George's living room, giving a stink glance to everything as his eyes calculated through the house.

The brit had an eyeroll, "I'll clean up soon," He said, heading over to a kitchen and just pouring himself a cup of whiskey. "Want some?" He offers to the raven.

Quackity looks up to see what George meant, a unpleasant expression plastering on his face as he regarded that. "No, thanks." He declined with a shakily breath, his eyes luring away from the alcohol. "I should really cut off drinking,"

George smirks upon his face, taking a sip as he looked up to Quackity, then laughing suddenly after. "Right, right," He recalls.

Quackity extracted a groan, "Not funny, asshole." He chided, taking a seat on George's couch and turning the T.V on. "You should really spray some Ferbreze in here," He complains ruthlessly.

"Shut up, you probably resorted an apartment that smells like hags." George only spits back.

"You've been watching Criminal Minds?" Quackity injects a question as he just analyzed through the T.V, knitting his brows and turning over to George with a concerning expression replacing on his face.

George shrugs, "For murder techniques," He admitted genially.

Quackity throws his eyebrow up, "Who the fuck would you wanna murder?" He confusingly scowls.

"A husband stealer," A menacingly smile tugged onto George's lips. "I honestly wouldn't regret a thing even if saw that fucker's blood on my hands," He exclaimed with a small laugh demented leaving his throat, his fingers gripping onto the edge of the counter as that petty ginger just provoked him.

The raven had a nervous giggle, "You've drank so much that you've lost your sanity," Quackiy speaks with small timid and horror, actually thinkimg George might've gone insane due to these past self-absorbing months.

"Do these actually help?" Quackity asks, earning a nodding yes from George. "Okay, then-" Quackity clicks on an episode.

"Who would you murder from anyone in the world?" George randomly says out, the other actually reckoning the brunette's question.

"Anthony," Quackity replied willingly and without no hestiance, George not understanding whose name that even was.

"Who's that?" George curiously asked the boy.

"The boy who tried to take advantage of me." Quackity forced a smile shakily, fiddling with his fingers as he had an agitated memory locate inside his head.