A Demonic Dance

Chapter Four: George, no

Dream sighed a sigh of relief as a yawn was let out by George, the still groggy male sitting up to brush the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning sleepyhead." Dream chuckled, the flustered human giving him a light smile which was interrupted by yet another large yawn.

"G'morning Dream." He muttered, looking around slightly dazed and confused as Dream gently pushed him off him (at one point in the night he had woken up, laying George back on him in the position they fell asleep in to avoid any suspicion of the nights events) and stood up, stretching his aching limps, not only had the positions he'd been sleeping in been extremely uncomfortable but also the events of the night had seemed to tire him quite greatly, even whilst the event of him removing Georges nightmare has knocked him out cold, he was still extremely tired and was looking forward to a nice long rest.

Giving one last stretch, lacing his fingers together and reaching them above his head, the demon shook off the last of his sleepiness and walked over to the kitchen to grab a cup of water. (The apartment having a open plan living-dining-kitchen layout).

He took a swig of water, leaning back against the counter top, only then noticing his friend was staring at him confused.

"What? Do I have drool on my face or something?" Dream exclaimed, using his spare hand to wipe around his mouth, glancing at the sink to look for his reflection.

"N-no." George said slightly stuttering, quickly looking away from the demon before glancing back up once more.

"Aaaaaaaalright then." Dream replied, dragging out the sentence before turning back to the sink, chugging his remaining water and placing the empty cup down to be washed up, still feeling the smaller's eyes burrowing into the back of his head but decided to try ignore it.

Over the time it took the Demon to wash up his cup however, he was starting to feel nervous.

Maybe he'd caught on? Maybe he'd realised it was him that had caused the nightmares, and well, inevitably ended one, but that's not the point. Glancing back to the human slightly, Dream was grateful to see George was now staring at a spot in the sofa, albeit it was with extreme confusion, it was better then the burning look he'd been giving in the minutes prior.

Dream cursed to himself as he started to vigorously scrub the cup with a sponge. He'd been in such a confused rush last night he hadn't even processed the thought that George would remember his nightmares, let alone the chance that he may have seen Dream.

Although many many times George had stated how he didn't really care that Dream was a demon, or how 90% of the time it seemed George himself forgot that minor detail about his friend himself, Dream was quite paranoid.

He'd found himself more and more caring about how the small human viewed him.

Normally he would revel in scaring the absolute crap out of people, it was, well, it was what he did. But for some reason, the thought of George being scared of him seemed to shake him more than he thought anything ever would.

Feeling the brunettes eyes on his back once more Dream gave up on scrubbing the cup to the point of perfection, placing it down and turning back around.

He would see what George wanted, find out what he thought had happened, and he would play it cool. Play it completely cool.