Can't Take a Joke? // Dream x OC

I have food.

- dream -

"Dream, I heard about everything, I'm so sorry that-"

"What kind of snacks does Libby like?"

A very pregnant pause.

"What?" George didn't know what to think. Is he not upset?

"Look, I took care of everything, she's staying with me until her flight back home. What snacks does she want?"

"And you're okay with that?"

"George, I don't have time to process what I feel right now. I'm throwing Libby a pity party and you're being useless."

"I- what?"

Dream impatiently paces in front of the isle of snacks in the dimly lit convenient store.

"Also, what's her favorite food? I don't think she's eaten."

"She likes chinese, and has a massive sweet tooth. Why do you like her all of the sudden?"

"I don't like her. She's just a little bitch who got her dreams crushed. Goodbye."

Dream ends the call with a little more flourish than necessary, and returns his gaze to the snack aisle. A sweet tooth huh? He grabs sour gummy worms, two king sized reece's, and a mixed bag of chocolates. Satisfied with his choices, he pays for his goods and practically marches out in pursuit of his local Chinese place.

- libby -

Good god that shower felt good. Libby's red skin and steaming surroundings made her forget, for just a moment, her unusual and absolutely dreadful situation. But, as all her dreams do, the illusion was shattered, and there she was: in the bathroom of the most obnoxious man on earth.

With a deep sigh and a low groan, she hauled her ass back into her room and changed back into her pajamas. Libby still felt like shit, just less gross this time. She collapsed, face first into the bed and felt the tears welling up once again.

A door opens downstairs. Just when it couldn't get worse: "Libbyyyy! Liby Liby Liby!"

Matching his volume, she screamed at her bedroom door. "Leave me here to die!"

"Any other day of the year and I would strangle you to death. But today, my dear, was incredibly shitty for you and I can't live through the guilt of making you deal with it on your own!"

His tone was too cheery, and entirely too loud, but she can't deny the reluctant kindness in the remark.

"Fuck you!" Libby screams.

Well, there goes the grateful attitude.

"I have food." says a much more neutral, and much closer Dream.

"Fuck you!" Libby swings open the door only to find herself face to face with her enemy.

"Ah! There you are!" Without a warning, Dream swipes her legs and hoists her onto his back.

General protests ensue, all very pitchy, all very annoyed, but all ignored by the tall man tromping down the stairs and to the kitchen. 

~ A/N ~

Well, this is my last pre-written chapter. If this blows up, I'll write more. If not, I did what I came here to do. Anyways, I bid you farewell and a lovely rest of your life.