Bee Boi and Me | Dream Smp

New Faces

"You cheated in the last one."

"I did not!"

"You literally screamed 'Oh my fucking god, it's Techno' and pointed behind me, so I turned around, and then you shoved your foot up my ass and sent me flying into the grass. What the fuck."

"We'll, it's your fault for being gullible," I snorted, "If someone's actually fighting you and pulls that stunt, you're going to find yourself with a sword between your ribs, idiot."

"Hmph." Dream crossed his arms as we continued walking through the forest towards L'Manburg. As promised, I had sparred with him for the last hour, and now he agreed to have a meeting with Tubbo about the Green Festival.

"You at least have to admit I did pretty good," I stated in order to start the conversation again.

"I can. You're better than I remember. Back during the war, that is."

I scoffed at his comment. "Of course I'm better."

"Modesty, much?" He chuckled, shaking his head, "Just because—Oh, wow, L'Manberg is really decorated." I looked up and gasped in surprise because there were colorful banners hanging from every building, and there were tents and wooden stands scattered around the side area.

"Damn, they finished a lot," I laughed, "How did I not notice all that in the morning?"

"Probably 'cause you were half-asleep," Dream coughed. I frowned and shoved him hard in the shoulder. He stumbled to the side and then turned to shove me back.

"Fuck you," I grunted, giving him an icy glare.

"I didn't start it," he retorted.

"I don't know why I agreed to this deal," I sighed with a frown, kicking the dusty path. "Now I have to wake up every fucking morning at the crack of dawn. Please tell me that there's an end to it. When the festival is over."

Dream laughed, clasping his hands behind his back. "Maybe. I enjoyed our little sparring time. You have a much different fighting style than Sapnap or Sam, and they're the only people I usually practice with. It's nice to have a change."

"Well, geez, glad that you're getting something out of it," I huffed miserably.

"You don't think you're getting anything out of this agreement?" He stopped walking and turned to look in my direction, his white mask seeming to stare bullets into my eyes. "You never considered that you might, you know, improve?"

I pulled my mouth into a straight line and looked away from him. "Even if I do improve from this, what's that got to do with you, Dream?"

"Nothing. Everything. Both," the masked man shrugged, "You'll understand eventually, (Y/n). Just trust me for now."

"Trust you?" I scoffed, "Who said I even trust you at all? You know what you did to Tommy, Dream. Not just that, though. I won't even ask why you decided to help my brother and then backstab him in the end—but you sure as hell are part of the reason that he's dead."

Dream grew tense for a moment at my words before he suddenly softened again. "Do you miss Schlatt?"

I snapped my head back at him in shock.

"...what?"

"Do you miss him?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Dream had pulled the question right out of his ass and put me on the spot. Now I wasn't sure whether i should answer him or just insult him and push him away.

"Sometimes," I ended up answering in a quieter voice, "And then sometimes I ask myself how he ended up the way he did."

"Do you ever wish you had him back?"