Second lead syndrome

Ditzy Pup Type SML (6)

A/N: this chapter is fookin long like 2300 words long so just have the A&E on standby just in case you start becoming dehydrated or lose your sanity. Disclaimer- don't actually call the a&e they're freaking busy

Fake sleep.

Come on~ just pretend to be asleep.

It's easy, just close your eyes and breathe gently.

For the past ten minutes he kept demanding that I fake sleep.

Shut up.

I finally snarled at him, finding myself at the end of my tether.

You're so boring. His whine was followed by the scrunching up of paper and then the sound of him biting into something crunchy.

What are you eating? I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

Popcorn. He answered with a yawn before beginning to snore.

This bastard, is he treating my life as some sort of drama he can watch? I've felt it before, you know? The way he keeps snacking away in my head as he watches me embarrass myself repeatedly.

"We're here." Arthur leaned back inside the car from the driver's side, upon seeing I had not yet come out.

"O-oh, yeah." I followed him in reluctantly while slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I made sure to stuff it with as much of my panties as it could handle alongside my other essentials. I was not leaving such precious undergarments unguarded in that dingy neighbourhood.

Bonus mission complete: 100 tokens added, total tokens: 175.

"Do you want something to eat? Should I get some takeaway?" He asked as we entered his apartment.

It looked like a rich boy's apartment, like it was huge. There was a whole wall made of glass that you could look out of to see the city view and there was even a bar! Who the hell needs a bar in their house? Isn't that just something you do in The Sims, and not in real life?

While I stared at the bar Arthur had already made his way into the kitchen. Feeling it weird to stay in this room when the owner was in another I followed him into the kitchen.

"I'm a little tired, where should I sleep?" I was eyeing the sofa in the living room with delight from the kitchen doorway.

It looked way more comfortable than the cheap bed I had in my room.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day." He stopped shuffling through the fridge in the kitchen and threw a worried glance in my direction.

"Yeah, I'm not hungry." I smiled in an effort to convince him but it seemed to fail.

"Hngh..." He made a pained noise while trying to figure out what to do. "The doctor said to make sure you ate healthily or you won't recover properly, and I already let you run away from the hospital without getting checked properly. What if-what if your arm never heals?" His panic-filled eyes were quickly tearing up.

"Urgh... I'm really not hungry. But... okay, let's get some takeout." I waved my hand tiredly, feeling a tad bit guilty after hearing those words.

I mean I did kind of drag him into this- but wait a second isn't it all his fault in the first place? If he just stopped raising his own death flags we wouldn't be here.

I shouldn't care if he feels guilty.

"No! Takeout is too unhealthy, I wasn't thinking before when I said that. I'll make you something." His eyes ignited passionately as he roared those words.