❄️|No Hard Feelings. [prequel to VLC]

(3) Day One - 2 (3)

The snowstorm raged outside the windows, which The Chosen One insisted he keep shut. It sucked, being cooped up. The Dark Lord knew he was annoying The Chosen One with his constant complaints of being bored, but he really was. Eventually, The Chosen One pulled out some cards and board games to entertain him. "Ever play King of The Hill, the Card Game?" The Chosen One asked. The Dark Lord shook his head.

So The Chosen One taught him. It was simple. "You have to think quick. And you aren't good at thinking, so I'll teach you slowly." The Chosen One had said, in which The Dark Lord suppressed the urge to punch him for it. After a few rounds, The Dark Lord had eventually beat The Chosen One, and started to several times. They were both very good, and it made it even funner.

Eventually, The Dark Lord got bored again, so they played Hangman. Then Connect 4, then Life, and finally, Sorry.

Sorry was probably the most enjoyable, because The Dark Lord and The Chosen One could constantly insult the other and simply respond with, "Sorry!"

The day honestly went pretty well. The Chosen One even enjoyed it, hard to hide it eventually. He had tried his best not to laugh at the other's jokes, but it was next to impossible.

The Dark Lord, however, had no intention to hide his enjoyment, and his constant stupid smiles made it obvious. (Though, The Chosen One wondered why The Dark Lord had no embarrassment or any of the such with him. Perhaps The Dark Lord had more to him than what the black stick-figure had originally thought...)

Eventually, the two sat on the couch, both drunk. The Dark Lord stretched his arms and grinned. "This won't be so bad, hm?" He said to the other.

The Chosen One chuckled softly and nodded his head in agreement. "I think you're right."

•

Eventually, The Chosen One got tired. He stretched and yawned, before walking back towards his room. The Dark Lord was still drinking and watching television, but had promised The Chosen One he would be quiet, so The Chosen One decided to go to bed. He opened the creaky door to his bedroom, his bedroom which was still fit for a younger him. They'd had this cabin since they were young, and when The Chosen One was a teenager, he had hung all of his and The Dark Lord's drawings on the wall.

He vividly remembered arriving after moving out, staring at the drawings in his room, feeling like he was about to cry, tearing the drawings down and shoving them in an abandoned nightstand drawer had hadn't used for anything else. The Chosen One sat down on his little bed, making it before slipping in under the covers.

The Dark Lord, however, was still drinking and watching television well past midnight. Eventually, he decided he should stop. He took a melatonin to help him rest and walked into his bedroom. He let his travel bag drop to the floor with a thunk. He rubbed his eyes, and got under the covers. He didn't bother to make his bed, why would he? He fell asleep quickly.