The Imprisoned Snowflake (Dream x George)

Chapter 7: Covenant

I piqued Dream's interest and he questioned me, "What kinda deal are we talkin'?"

I first listed off the things he'd get out of it, "I'll listen to every order you give me, I won't resist you and I'll let you do as you please with me!"

He huffed, "And what do you get out of this little deal?"

I started to list what I wanted out of this, "All I want is to be able to move around this room freely and these handcuffs off, that's it!"

Dream hummed and put me back onto the pipe with my hands still in front of me, "I'll be back in the morning, only then I'll give you an answer."

Dream left turning off the light and locking the door.

I looked at my clock, it was only 9 pm. I knew it would be a long night for me.

***

I barely got any sleep, maybe a few hours of sleep, but that was it. I leaned on the wall to sleep so it wasn't as comfortable as laying down.

I woke up around 5 am and couldn't fall back asleep so I just stayed up.

Right now it is 6:40 am, and I felt my hunger growing as my stomach was practically begging for food at this point. They hadn't fed me much at all besides the one time I asked for it.

I sighed, knowing I'd most likely have to beg for food again and knowing it would probably be drugged again as well.

Once the clock hit 7 am, I heard the door click open and I perked up to see who it was.

It was Dream and he quickly moved to kneel down in front of me, "I've thought about your little deal..." He paused then continued, "I've decided to go through with it but with a few of my personal tweaks."

I looked at him, "What tweaks?"

Dream acted like he was talking to a kid, "Well, Georgie...If your bad in any way, there will be consequences for your actions, and if you try to attack me in any way, I kill you on the spot...got it?"

"I-I got it," I replied to him quickly.

"Good then." He undid my handcuffs completely.

I rubbed my raw wrists, happy to finally have some freedom.

Dream stood and went over to his table, calling for me to sit on his stool, "Come sit."

I got up and sat on the stool as instructed.

He grabbed something from the work table and grabbed my wrist. I hissed in pain, from his sudden pressure on my wrist.

He put some medication on my wrist and wrapped a bandage around it. He moved to my other wrist and did the same as he did with the other.

"What do I get?" He commented.

"T-Thank you, Dream." It was quite shameful of me to thank a murderer.

He chuckled and told me to follow him. I followed, but once we got to the stairs out of the basement I stopped moving, not wanting to cross the invisible line I made for myself.

Dream was already up three of the stairs and turned to not see me following him, he stopped. "You coming or not?" He sounded upset.

"B-But I-"

He cut me off and sighed, "You can only come up here with me because of our little deal." He explained.

He continued up the stairs and I followed closely behind him. He opened the door at the top of the stairs and let me through before locking it.

My eyes hurt at the sunlight hitting my eyes. I felt as if I forgot what sunlight even was. I followed Dream into a kitchen and he asked if I wanted something to eat or I could go starve.

I accepted his offer and he told me to sit on a stool nearby, so I did.

Dream started to make some food, I looked at my bandaged wrists and asked Dream, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

All I got for a reply was, "Because I just feel like it, Georgie."

It was too vague for an answer, there had to be another reason for him to be nice to me. I just knew it, there just had to be something else to it.

I started to rub my one wrist unconsciously and Dream snapped at me, "Stop touching your wrists, you're only making them worse, by doing that!"

I stopped immediately and questioned Dream more mentally, trying to figure him out. One minute he's nice and carrying the next he's angry and psychotic, I couldn't wrap my head around what was going on in his mind.

***

He finished making food and plated it for one person. 'Did he make food for me alone? Didn't he make himself anything?' I stopped trying to understand the murderer's mind.

He called me over to the kitchen table pulling me into reality.

I sat and he placed the food in front of me, sitting in the chair opposite of me, I then gave him an unsure look.

He sighed, "No, I didn't put anything in the food, George."

I took a bite it wasn't the best, but for a murderer, I expected it to not taste the best.

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Word Count: 841