The Imprisoned Snowflake (Dream x George)

Chapter 77: Tension

A month has passed with little to no issues and it was now nearly the beginning of March, although one of the stupidest things happened the other day.

I was reading a book and Dream came out of nowhere in an attempt to scare me, which it did, resulting in me throwing a book at him. He laughed it off like it was nothing like he didn't just get hit in the head by a hardcover book. I did wind up apologizing for doing it but Dream said I was fine, he just didn't expect to get a book thrown at him.

Over the remainder of the month, Dream continued to kill people every four or five days. Dream only kept up his killings because, in his words, he needed to uphold his reputation no matter what.

While I stayed at home and recovered from the bullet to my shoulder. I was almost completely healed up, as didn't need a sling anymore and I only now only had slight pains when moving my arm up and down.

The main issue we had was Shlatt and the other police, as they were now doing whatever they could to catch Dream. After Wilbur was killed by Dream, they immediately ramped up everything. Including, twenty-four-seven surveillance on the city, patrolling of the areas of the city much more frequently, and looking into the current murders for any clues possible. It didn't help that Dream started killing and targeting police officers.

I had just finished up my breakfast and turned on the TV. I was watching the news for a few hours until there was a story I was really interested in.

Apparently, several people had broken out of prison but the waiting media didn't get any of the names of the people, as the police didn't want people to panic. The media was told that, if they cannot find them all within forty-eight hours or two days then they would seek outside assistance and release their names.

Dream soon joined me in the living room with Patches following him into the room.

He sat next to me and kissed my forehead, "Good morning, Georgie."

"Morning, Clay." I returned.

He sighed and laid back on the sofa, clearly tired from staying up so late last night. I chuckled, "And how late were you up last night?"

He groaned, "I think it was around six when I finally got back and got some sleep."

I sighed, 'Knowing he was only up because he was keeping an eye on his next victim.'

I pet his head, only for him to lean into my touch. I then suggested in a teasing manner, "Maybe you shouldn't be out all night then, Mr. Bloque."

He immediately became flustered and spoke in a mumble, talking more towards himself, "I shouldn't have told you my last name."

I chuckled lightly and teased him more, "And who's the one who wanted to tell me their last name?"

"Fuck off," He groaned in a more playful manner.

I decided to not make him any more upset than he already was and instead asked, "That's right...didn't you say you would teach me how to use a gun today?"

He huffed, "I'd forgotten about that...let's just do that tomorrow, I'm too tired to do that today."

I sighed and let it go, as I just wanted Dream to get some rest now.