Dreaming of Demons (Dream x oc)

[48] Flashbacks

I squinted, blinking to clear my blurry, morning eyesight. My cheek rested comfortably against some green pillow.

Which—I realized a second later—was not actually a pillow, but Dream's chest.

I jerked my head up, now wide awake. Cautiously, I glanced around, and my mind finally remembered what had happened. We had come down to the living room in the middle of the night to sit on the couch. The TV in front of us was off, and now that I thought of it, I couldn't remember the ending of the movie we had started. Now I was curled up against Dream, my arm tucked underneath my chin as my head had rested on his chest. He was still asleep, his head tilted back on the couch pillows, his right arm wrapped loosely around my waist.

I sat still, not moving a muscle. Should I get up? I looked at Dream's face again. Not a crease of worry or pain there. No, I didn't want to wake him up. Maybe if I moved slowly enough...

He inhaled deeply, and his arm momentarily tightened around me as he seemed to stretch a little. His eyes fluttered open and a flicker of confusion passed over his face before he saw me. His arm fell away from me, but he gave a small smile. "I don't even remember what movie we were watching." His voice was raspy from sleep.

I huffed a laugh, pulling away from his warmth. The air was noticeably colder now that I was leaning away from him, and goosebumps prickled on my arms. I didn't think the house was that cold. "I barely remember anything from the beginning."

Heat started to creep up my face, and I stood from the couch in some effort to hide it. He didn't seem too fazed by the fact that we had literally fallen asleep on each other.

"I can make some breakfast." I turned back to see him adjusting his hoodie. "You didn't eat anything yesterday."

"Do you need help?" He asked.

"I can make 'em pretty fast. They're not hard."

I moved to the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients to make pancakes. Dream mentioned that he was going to shower, and a minute later, I heard the squeal of the water turn on. I started going through the motions of making the food, staring into the bowl as I stirred the pancake batter.

It had only been a day since Dream had come back to himself. No sign of the Demon, which was good. But I didn't even think about what it would be like with him living here, normally. Well, as normally as we could.

I mean, I guess it wasn't totally normal to be sleeping on each other within a day. But it just sort of...happened.

I frowned, pulling up the spatula from the bowl to see the batter slowly drip off.

Was Dream okay with what had happened? I didn't want to make him uncomfortable at all, but as I mulled over the scene in my head, I couldn't pick out any moment where he looked uncomfortable. So maybe things were fine, if only a bit awkward.

But why was I thinking about it so much? It shouldn't have been that big of a deal. Dream didn't think anything of it, so why should I?

I poured the pancake batter on the pan, and the pile of warm pancakes on the plate beside the stove began to grow. I tipped the bowl of batter over the pan again, using a spoon to push the batter out.

"I honestly don't remember the last time I had pancakes."

I jumped at the sound of Dream's voice, the deep timbre flashing me back to the cabin in the woods with Wilbur and the Dreamon. In my surprise, the bowl and spoon dropped from my hand into the hot pan, splattering batter on my shirt. Before my brain could catch up to what had happened, I grabbed for the spoon, then gasped, ripping my hand back again. My fingertips had burned.