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

.::3::.

George swept once more through his empty house, double checking he had every last thing he could possibly need.

A stray sock lay in the middle of the hallway and he grabbed it in one swift motion, turning and clicking the light off before leaving and locking the house behind him.

He threw the sock into the back of his car and got in himself, turning up the radio on his favorite station before beginning to drive to his new home.

It was a few hours away and as he jammed out to songs from 'do re mi' by black bear to 'Sparks' by Coldplay, he let himself forget about what he was running from.

It was only as he reached the city that George began to panic. It was a new place and was extremely packed. He got lost at least five times before he finally found his apartment block. Relieved, he trotted up the stairs to his door, #404, and practically crashed inside.

He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, sliding down to the wooden floor with a sigh.

Dream would never find him.

Yeah, most people would think moving houses to escape something like this was a little extreme, but he had already been thinking about moving in the past and this was his little extra push to do it.

Besides, as he opened his window curtain a crack to peer outside, he realized how much he loved being in the city. It was just the right amount of bustling, just enough so you didn't feel lonely, but not so much as living in a small town where everybody knew everybody and it was overwhelming.

As George turned away from the window to unpack his night necessities, the small clock on his stove caught his eye and he froze.

'3:52 pm.' It read.

A bundle of nerves alighted in his chest and he felt his heart race slightly.

So far so good.

He stared at the clock until it changed to 3:53 pm, before admitting to himself that thinking and worrying about that would do nothing to calm his anxieties.

So he distracted himself by grabbing his night clothes, brushing his teeth, and washing his face. He patted his face dry with a towel and leaned out of the bathroom doorway to check the time again once he was done.

'4:02 pm'

He pumped his fist with a cheer, before looking down at the towel in his hand.

Why was he getting ready for bed so early? He blinked, waiting a few moments, before he facepalmed hard.

He must be losing his mind with this whole predicament. Well, no matter. It didn't hurt to be extra prepared for sleep.

But what did hurt was how hungry he was.

He quickly pulled out his phone and ordered from a nearby restaurant some food to be dropped off. There was no way he was blowing his cover by going out that night.

Within 20 minutes of waiting, his food was at his door and he greedily tipped the dasher and closed his door, locking it behind him.

He wasted no time clearing his cluttered dining room table that was full of boxes and nick nacks and digging into his warm food.

Dream didn't show up at all the rest of the evening and George decided that he had won.

He still would go to hell when he died, but at least he wouldn't live in hell for both of his lives. He was going to make this one count at the very least.

With that last triumphant thought, George let himself doze off into a well deserved sleep.

——

The next morning was eerily quiet. Everything felt off and George felt jittery the whole morning. He had thought moving away would give his mind some time to calm down and relax about not being surprised by some demon around any corner and any time, but it seemed that the thoughts themselves still hadn't taken down their defenses.