Under the Weather - Dreamnotfound Oneshots

Expect the Unexpected

hi,,, it's been a while! hopefully I'm back for good, though :]

In which George isn't sure what's going on when a stranger jumps through his window. 

what time is it? (showti—)

a n g s t  t i m e 

to the reader that wanted this: you know who you are.

there's a warning before the angst in case you don't want to read it :]

Enjoy! <3

George expected the day to go normally. He expected to sleep, eat, and play Minecraft— For what else was there to do on a Tuesday like this?

(After all, Thursday was grocery day.)

But, not everything happens to go as expected.

So, George got about as far on his list as eating— He slept until 11 and then decided to just combine his breakfast and lunch, because who has time for separate meals?— before things began to go downhill.

The first thing that happened: His pc wasn't working.

George had padded back to his room, still yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes absently before flopping into his chair. He stretched with catlike ease, coaxing the heaviness away from his limbs.

Then, George moved to turn his pc on.

Instead of lighting up and blinding him as he would've expected, the dark screen and his own reflection was the only thing that stared back at him.

George groaned audibly and stood up.

He tried everything— But the computer refused to work properly, instead stubbornly remaining dark.

George ran his hands down his face in exasperation, his gaze flicking to the clock. By now, it was almost one in the afternoon, and he hadn't gotten anything done. 

The minutes hurried by, melting together like hot wax, and soon enough one became two. 

And it was 2:03 (He knew because what else was he supposed to be doing other than staring at his phone?) when George first heard the shatter.

He was laying on his bed, and with no Minecraft to fool around in, simply scrolling on his phone absently, a soft melody on the tip of his tongue and murmuring in his throat.

But the sound was drowned out quickly by the sound of glass absolutely shattering, which if you asked George, was not, in fact, what his window was supposed to do at 2:03 in the afternoon.

And George turned out to be correct, because as he walked briskly to his living room, mind still slightly hazy with shock and fatigue, glass was strewn in crystalline patterns over his rug.

"Oh." He mumbled, eyes flicking idly over the shards. 

"Oh." He whispered as his eyes scanned over a heap of what he knew was supposed to be blankets, yet looked suspiciously like a passed out— actually, was it dead?— person.

"Oh."

With that, George pivoted on his heel and left the room, because there was absolutely no way he was dealing with this right now.

Nope, nope, nope.

Maybe, George pondered as he returned to his bedroom to act blissfully unaware that he may have unknowingly (and unwillingly, mind you) gained another resident to his home, this was all just a very strange and vivid dream.