SHAMBLES! DREAMxFEM!READER

VII - R A T T L E!

VOTES AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!

TW- PROFANITY

WC- 1505

--(Y/N) POV ---

"Who?"

That three-letter word. It glues to my brain on repeat like an unpleasant melody for minutes, but in reality, it's been seconds. He was six when he had left my grasp. Surely he remembers me, right? I remember the day like yesterday. Does he? Did something happen to him in the war?

It still rattles me how he's alive, standing right in front of me. He's supposed to be dead.

A salted tear slips from my eye. "Tommy?" He's still looking at me in utter confusion. He whispers something to the small brunet boy beside him.

Dream then stops me from making any further comment. "A lot has changed, but for now, no one knows who you are yet," he whispers, making my (H/C) hair move with the breeze of his warm breath. Those words are cold and harsh to take in.

Does my brother not remember me? Am I really that alone in this saddened world?

It breaks my heart, but I know I must stay strong. But if what I'm told is true, I'll be able to talk to him. Maybe he'll remember me.

I swallow my saliva that has been piling up as I held back my tears. Dream looks down at me and nods to what seems to be the dining table. I follow his lead as he pulls out one of the many wooden chairs that surround the table.

Once I am seated, all the others in the house seat themselves as well. There were seven people in total. I couldn't find the girl from the masquerade, so I assumed she was off somewhere else.

Dream served some food to us, and my god did it smell amazing. I hadn't had a properly cooked chicken in years. The chicken I was used to was an overcooked, unseasoned chicken. This one was drenched in flavor and baked to perfection. It made me drool at the first sight of it. I had to resist the urge to dig my hands straight into the exquisite meal.

I could tell they were all looking at my expression of awe, but I couldn't care less. My stomach has always had a mind of its own. I have to admit, it's probably my least lady-like feature.

Yet again, I've killed dozens upon dozens of people.

The male with jet-black hair and a white bandana laughs at my hungered self. "It looks like you haven't seen a proper meal in days, maybe even weeks!"

I look him dead in the eyes. Is this guy serious? Does he know who I am? Of course, I hadn't had a proper meal in years! I can't even stay in one location for more than a week.

He seems threatened by my intense glare. That made him shut up.

Once the green man seats himself, I take this as my queue to eat. I dig my silverware in the nice, juicy cut of chicken and almost cry at the sight.

It's beautiful.

The tender whiteness that drools with the seasoned juice coating it with a slight hint of pink in the center. It's cooked to perfection. The meal is served with some steamed carrots and broccoli flavored in lemon juice, black pepper, and lemon pepper, but that has the least of my attention. The star of the meal has my eyes. 

But I remember, I'm eating this meal with the brother I had lost ten years ago. Yet he hasn't got a clue about who I am.

I decided to start small-talk. "Are you going to tell me about this plan of yours with these lovely gentlemen here, Dream?" I question as I look back at the black-haired man with the bandana.