A Smile With A Bite. DNF

Part Two

George was supernatural. He had died and come back to life with capabilities humans simply did not have by design. His wounds could heal in seconds, he could hear someone's heart beat from across the room, and probably a thousand other things that Dream was already curious about. So why did Dream have an uncontrollable urge to protect George? He didn't need to be protected, obviously. Bullet wounds couldn't even keep him down.

Dream was still sacred though. He didn't like that George was in any type of danger. He didn't like to think that someone was waiting around the corner to drive a stake into George's heart because they only saw him as a monster.

They hadn't been living together all that long, but they had been best friends for years. Dream knew George wasn't a monster. He was kind—maybe a little sarcastic and occasionally bitchy—but he had a good heart under all of that. He wasn't a fighter. That's what freaked Dream out the most. George had the capabilities of a killer and he probably didn't even know how to use those capabilities to his advantage. Someone literally shot him last night. He was lucky he managed to get away.

George could have been dead. For real this time.

Dream tried to act as natural as possible around Sapnap, but there wasn't a single thought in his mind that didn't involve George. Like this morning...

It looked like blood wasn't the only thing that sustained George. He was eating breakfast with Dream and Sapnap, like he had many times before. Dream wanted to ask if it satisfied him, but he couldn't with Sapnap in the room. George gave him permission to tell Sapnap, but he didn't feel like it was his place. It wasn't his secret to tell.

"Okay, I'm going to go shower and then hop online with Punz," Sapnap said as he left the kitchen. "Don't wait up," he yelled from the stairs.

George groaned when he noticed Sapnap left his cereal bowl on the counter instead of placing it two feet to the right, in the sink, where it belonged. He finished his own cereal and rinsed both bowls in the sink. When he turned around, he was met with Dream's impossibly piercing gaze. There was no expression on his face to give away what he was thinking, but his eyes were distance with thought. Those gears in his head were still turning from last night.

"What, Dream?" George asked with a smirk. Dream's curiosity was still amusing to him for some reason.

"You eat food," Dream whispered, glancing down at his own bowl. The cereal was gone but a shallow pool of milk waded at the bottom of his bowl. "You live on more than just blood."

"Yeah. It doesn't taste as good and it doesn't satiate my hunger, but I can eat it."

"You're still hungry?"

"As hungry as I was last night. Maybe even hungrier."

"What are you going to do? Starve all day?"

"Probably. I could attempt to feed from someone during the day, but there are more people and more eyes. I prefer to feed at night."

"Doesn't that... affect you negatively, George? Do you get anxious or tired or something?" Dream asked, unable to hold back his concern. He was scared of how much he didn't know. He was scared for his friend.

"I get weaker the longer I go without blood, but I already told you a few days won't do much harm. It's just a tad annoying."

Dream nodded and walked across the kitchen to rinse his bowl in the sink and leave it with the other's empty bowls. George watched him as he moved, internally worrying that Dream couldn't handle this secret. George trusted the fact that Dream would never tell a soul, so that wasn't what George worried about. He just hated seeing that glint of concern in his best friend's eyes and the constant pinch between his eyebrows. Even his shoulders, which were bare as he stood shirtless in the kitchen, seemed stiff and uncomfortable.