Pandemonium | Dream SMP

65. Excuse me, but who started biting who first?

"I got your love letter," I frown, cresting the last stair of the tower and stepping out onto the balcony.

Dream thankfully isn't a complete idiot, and wears his simple black shirt today instead of his neon jacket. A jacket that would have given him away immediately even from this height. I knew he couldn't let an opportunity like today go to waste.

Dream tilts his head and I can feel his grin.

"I knew Callahan would pull through."

"Dream."

"Yes, dear?"

I close my eyes briefly and pinch my nose bridge. Does Dream really not see the problem here?

"I thought we had an understanding. We don't show our affections unless we're alone. You writing for a booty call on a piece of paper is not discrete."

"Hey, relax." He pushes away from the railings and pulls me into a hug that I begrudgingly allow. "Callahan is a good friend of mine. He knows how to keep his mouth shut. And it's not like I signed the note."

"You drew a smiley face, Dream."

"That was clearly a winky face."

"Yeah, well, please refrain from note passing in the future, regardless of whose passing it along. It's too risky. And now Hbomb thinks I have a secret partner that I sneak off to enjoy."

Dream chuckles, "is that not what's happening right now?"

"Oh do shut up," I say, but I'm unable to keep my voice serious. The moment Dream had embraced me his scent of pinewood and musk had washed over me, dulling my annoyance like a pleasant sedative. All my prior troubles suddenly don't feel so troubling anymore.

All I want right now is him.

"You're lucky you're cute," I mutter, pulling away enough to see his masked face. "Or I might have left you here alone."

He gives a light laugh and pinches my cheek in that annoying way that old ladies do to children. "Oh please. Don't lie to yourself. You know you can't resist me."

I press my lips together and grasp his wrist.

"Says the one who was desperate enough to send me a note."

Dream shrugs, unbothered by the call-out.

"Hey, I'm a simp for you. What can I say? And you've left me wanting you for a week."

No further words are exchanged as Dream slowly backs me up against the stone wall. I tilt his mask back, exposing those sly lips of his. They curl into a smile as I run my thumb along them.

It occurs to me that not once have I attempted to remove the mask fully, always stopping at the sight of his lips.

I don't know what that says about me as a person.

It's not like I'm picky about looks. I have no preference when it comes to physical traits. Dream could be cross-eyed for all I care and I wouldn't feel for him any less.

I'm sure that if I asked, he'd willingly show his face to me, so eager as he is to please me.

No. It has nothing to do with appearances, or even the thrill of a mystery—though I won't deny that making out with a man I've never seen the face of does have its charm. I'm reluctant to see his face because that would mean making eye contact with him. It would mean I'd have to look him in the eye and acknowledge my feelings for him. And that—that isn't something I could come back from. Schlatt could instigate a war any day now, and the only thing that keeps me confident in my resolve to fight Dream is not having to look him in the face as I take him down. The face of a man I think I might love.