~Skephalo & Jefhalo - Oneshots, Drafts, and More~

~Less at Home pt 3 - 🟠⚪~

Tw: Some profanity

A/N: I just noticed the way I censored swear words in these- I kinda wanna change it but at the same time I find it funny... I personally don't like using profanity, and I avoid using it in writing when possible, but Good just doesn't feel like himself without a curse here or there.

Good didn't even have to go outside to know that the kid had stuck around the next day. He could tell by the tuft of black hair peeking out from the other side of the window in his kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Good started to make breakfast, the frown on his face growing as he thought about the homeless kid.

Good just wanted to live a peaceful life by himself, was that too much to ask for? The universe seemed to think so, constantly dragging people to his door who claimed they were trying to be friendly or neighborly and now apparently homeless. He hated them all. Good didn't have friends, and he didn't want any, either. He didn't understand why so many people went out of their way to try and befriend him, especially when he had made it clear that he didn't want any friends. Everyone in the whole da*n town seemed to idolize him or some sh!#, but he couldn't understand for the life of him why.

"Me and my friends like to play this really cool game in the forest," some idiot in a frowny-face mask had said to him a while ago. "Do you want to join us? It'd be a lot of fun."

Like always, Good had scoffed and slammed the door in the idiot's face, retreating back into his house to sulk. He didn't have friends. He only had himself. And what a sorry creature he was, perhaps even worse than all the other townsfolk. But he knew that already.

"Hey, kid." Good grumbled, nudging the homeless boy awake with his foot again.

"Hmm? G'morning," the boy yawned, stretching in the early morning sun, like a flower opening its petals to the world. With a drowsy smile, the boy looked up at Good. "Oh, hello! I'm sorry, I know you told me to leave, but I-"

Good rolled his eyes and shoved a plate of food to the boy, interrupting whatever pitiful excuse he was about to spit out. "Breakfast. And here's some milk for your cat," Good said curtly, waiting for the boy to take the food so he could go back inside.

"Oh, thank you!" The boy beamed up at him. The cat mewed, seemingly in agreement, and Good's eyes softened for a moment before he spun around and left them there.

"Stupid kid," he muttered once he was back in his house. "Thinks he's all cute, huh? I ought to stop giving him food, then maybe he'll leave." Good sighed, and went into his living room, grabbing a book and settling down on his couch to read. Before he knew it, he had drifted to sleep, only to be awoken by a loud banging on his door. Startled and annoyed out of his mind, Good went to his door to figure out what was going on.

"Please stop," Jef could be heard asking, desperation in the boy's voice. "He doesn't want to be bothered, you're only going to upset him!"

"Shut up, you filthy kid, don't you have better things to do than hang around here?" An all too familiar voice said.

Good threw the door open, fury on his face. "What the hell do you want?" The mayor stood there, a sly expression on his ugly face. "I thought I told you not to come around here anymore."

"Ah, Good, you are home. This brat was trying to convince me that you weren't here." He gestured to Jef, who looked guiltily at the ground. "I was hoping to ask if you would come to the founding festival this year." The mayor smiled, folding his hands together smugly.

Good crossed his arms, glaring at the man. "No, I wasn't planning on it." He began to turn and leave the man behind, until one of the fat, gloved hands grabbed his shoulder. Bristling, Good growled, "Don't touch me."