Hate you - DNF/Karlnap

8

Art by Sockpaws!
TW - Mentions of death and trauma
CW - swearing

DREAM  -

✨One Year Earlier✨

...When the sun came up later that morning, I was going to be drinking coffee, patches beside me, my sister safe and sound and NotFound would be dead...

The early morning air was cold against the exposed skin of my hands and face. Winter had just begun to settle and ice seemed to hang permanently in the air, nipping at anyone and everyone. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets as I quickly strode along the empty streets of my town. My only light source was the dim lampposts standing every few feet apart.

I hated to admit it, but I was nervous.

I'd managed to contact NotFound at the scene of his last murder, I'd asked him to meet with me. The next morning I'd had one of his signature notes made of blue paper, just sitting on my door step. The note hadn't said much, just a day, time and place. And thats where I was heading now.

I was meeting him today at exactly 4 a.m. on top of Panorama Tower, the tallest building in florida.

I got inside the building without too much difficulty and headed towards the elevator. My heart was pounding as I reached the top of the building and climbed out to the roof. My eyes immediately scanned around the rooftop, searching for my enemy.

And then I saw him.

A small figure was sitting in the ledge opposite, his back to me. The weak light of the sun peeking over the horizon cast an eerie glow across his small frame. I took a step forward and he tensed up when I spoke,
"NotFound?"...

✨Present Day✨

I lead George through my house and into the spare room that would now be his. Earlier that morning I'd gone through the painful process of clearing out the rest of Sapnap's belongings that I hadn't moved when he'd died. George looked around the room with a soft smile playing on his lips.
"It's really nice, thank you," He said as he placed his box of belongings on the bed.

"No problem," I replied, leaning against the doorframe, my eyes trained on the brunette. "Do you need help unpacking or anything?" I asked. George turned to face me, brushing some of his hair out of his chocolate coloured eyes.
"Um, that's okay, I should be fine, but thanks," He smiled warmly and although I was a little disappointed I couldn't help but smile back.

I turned to leave,
"Wait, Dream?" George's voice called me back, "Maybe when I'm done unpacking and I've called my family to let them know I'm okay, maybe we could get food or something? Get to know each other more?" He looked hopeful. I nodded brightly,
"I'd love that!" I mentally slapped myself for how enthusiastic I sounded but George didn't seem to mind.

I grinned again and awkwardly waved as I exited his room. I made my way into the kitchen to feed Patches. She was asleep on the couch but jumped up immediately when I got the cat food out of the pantry. She padded into the room, he soft paws creating a slight pattering sound on the white kitchen tiles.

I grinned at her,
"Hello angel," I murmured, stroking her gently. I poured her food into her bowl and left her to enjoy her meal. Content, I strolled into the living room, intending to watch some tv. I sat down on the couch and reached for the remote. As I did, I became acutely aware of yelling coming from George's room. I got up and headed towards his door.

It sounded like he was on a phone call. Even though I knew I shouldn't, the detective in me wanted to listen to the conversation. I told the detective in me to shut up and turned to leave when something George said caught my attentions,
"Oh yeah, its fucking great Phil, just a whole heap of PTSD and trauma, who wouldn't want that?"
I pressed my ear against the closed door, wondering who this Phil person was. George didn't speak for a moment and I assumed the person on the other end, Phil, was saying something.

"No. No I'm not okay. You forced me into this mate, you, Wil and Techno,"
"..."
"What the fuck do you mean 'what's the big deal?' You know the big deal!"
"..."
"You know what, Phil? Fuck you. Just give me my next job and piss off. I need to stab something,"

I drew back. Stab something? What the fuck did that mean? I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear footsteps approach on the other side of the door. It suddenly swung open and George jumped back when he saw me. Anger flashed in his eyes for a moment before gaining an eerily calm look,
"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously.
"I- um, I heard yelling and I came to make sure if you were okay," I looked sheepishly at the ground as George surveyed me,
"How much," He said after a moment, "How much did you hear?" He leaned against the door frame, his brown eyes staring at me critically.

I grinned at him and took a step closer,
"You need to stab something, huh?" I tried not to give away any suspicion in my voice. George's face lit up with relief,
"Oh, yeah, I'm a chef actually. That was my boss, Phil, he's a little frustrating sometimes but aren't all dads?" George chuckled as he walked past me. I followed, curious.
"He's your dad?" I asked,

"No. He's like a dad figure in my life. My parents are dead," He replied.
"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss," I said quickly. George snorted with laughter,
"They're not like, six-feet-under-dead, Dream. I meant they're dead to me, we don't get on. They disowned me" George collapsed on the couch and I sat next to him.

"Oh, well, I'm still sorry, no one deserves to be treated like that," I said, smiling comfortingly, "My mum hates parents who don't know how to love their kids," I told him. George laughed and slapped my arm lightly,
"I know, idiot, we-" He stopped. I raised an eyebrow, confused. George looked slightly panicked.
"I just meant, I um, I don't know. I'm sorry," He stood up quickly, "I... I'm going to work. I'll see you later Dream, sorry,"

Before I could say anything, he practically ran out of the door, leaving me sitting on the couch, confused.
Living with George was going to be interesting.

Word count - 1097

A/N -
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