The Devil's 'Friend' // DNF (DISCONTINUED)

.::2::.

His boots were so clean, George could see his own sullen face reflected in them. He gave them one last swipe for extra measure before glancing up at Dream who was lounging back in his couch, his shoes propped on the edge for George to shine.

What a brat.

"There you are." George snapped.

He hadn't wanted to listen to Dream, but what choice did he have? Get hurt or worse instead? Go to hell sooner than he was supposed to?

The price of his stupid descion and idiot thoughts of making the fucking devil his friend were finally being payed. And not in the way he had expected.

He had given Dream water, made him a sandwich—with his own food— and washed his cloak and shined his shoes. All unwillingly.

"Is that attitude I detect?" Dream asked, his mouth was pulled back in a sly smirk and George refused to sneer back at him.

"Attitude? No, never."

"That's what I thought." Dream said evenly. He stood up after inspecting his shoes and threw his cloak around his shoulders, straightening his mask for the tenth time today.

"I'll expect more tomorrow, but that'll be all for today. I have more souls to attend to." He explained, spinning on his heel and walking into thin air where he suddenly disappeared.

George wasn't even surprised. Who would be after seeing Dream's little show with the portal to hell a few hours before?

He let out a relieved sigh, turning to face his kitchen and running his hand through his hair.

He needed to find a loophole. He couldn't keep doing this. Dream would run him out of house and home. He needed to slip away in the dead of night, go live somewhere crowded and crazy, where the devil would never find him.

Yes. That's what he should do.

He whirled around to look at his house and felt a trickle of dread shoot through him. There was no way he could pack up everything in less than a day and move somewhere far away at the same time. He would have to discreetly pack up things and move them by a moving service through the week and then before Dream showed up, he would leave.

——

Dream didn't show up until way after lunch time the next day. George was on his feet all day, peering around every corner expecting to find the tall demon lurking around somewhere.

But when Dream made his entrance, it was surprisingly through the front door... that George had locked.

"Sup." He said shortly, before flopping down on the couch that George had just fluffed to perfection.

"Hi yourself." George greeted, placing his hands on his hips to study the devil lounging on his couch. His head was hanging off the back of the armrest and was staring at the ceiling.

"Bring me some water." Dream said after a moment of heavy breathing and air conditioning filtering through the room.

George rolled his eyes, letting out an undetectable huff before retrieving the desired item and holding it above the seemingly dozing devil.

"Your water?" He prompted, gesturing to the glass in his hand.

He couldn't tell if Dream was awake or asleep and he felt a sly smile growing as the silent moment grew longer and longer.

He waited an extra second for confirmation before he tipped the glass over and poured it all over Dream's head and mask, letting out a squeal as the devil woke up with a start.