Pandemonium | Dream SMP

81. Sleep with me?

A bottle is dropped at my elbow, clattering loudly against the kitchen counter.

"For you," Dream says, spinning the bottle so it almost topples. I snatch out a hand and steady it, sending him a dubious look once I see the label.

"Where did you get this? It looks expensive."

"Wine fit for a king, you could say. I'm sure Schlatt with have no reason to say no it." Dream hums vaguely, and I come to the conclusion that he must have stolen it from Eret.

"As long as it's strong," I mutter, playing with the bottle's thin neck. "The quicker I can get this over with the better."

"That's the spirit," Dream remarks and I turn to give him an annoyed look. We're in the kitchen, a room no one uses except for myself when I make Schlatt his meals. I have his lunch ready now, four slices of seeded toast, completely plain. It's the most I can get him to eat as of late. His appetite hasn't been too good, which only adds to my already building guilt at what I have planned for today. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing this for him, not for Dream. And that the end will justify the means. Schlatt is a businessman. He would understand.

"I suppose I should thank you for getting this," I say with reluctance, placing the bottle to the side.

Dream hops up onto the counter and leans his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in a palm. "Don't go looking so sour. This is what you wanted, remember?"

"Yeah...yeah I know." I run a hand through my hair, eyeing the bottle of alcohol like it's poison—which technically it is. I've always trued to avoid the stuff, nervous of the side effects. The idea that people willingly submit to fuzzy vision and slurred speech had never made sense to me. Even if it does make you feel good, what's the point if you don't even remember the fun come next morning? "I just hate that this is what it's come to. It feels like betrayal."

"Well it is, technically." I give him a glare and he shrugs. "What? You don't think getting your boss drunk to steal his most valuable possession doesn't count as betrayal?"

"Wow, well now I hate myself even more. Thanks." I snark, taking the plate and bottle, ready to leave.

"Hey, come on, I'm just saying it like it is. Ares. Ares."

I leave the kitchen, ignoring Dream's calls. The wine is heavy in my hand as I walk, and I keep looking at it, wondering what would happen if I were to just drop it and let it shatter, forcing me to postpone the plan.

No, I can't do that. Dream is patient, but not that patient. If I tell him I dropped the bottle he'd immediately know I was stalling for time. I need to grow a pair and get on with this awful deal. A deal that I made. God, I hope Schlatt never finds out.

"Your lunch, Mr President," I call out, bumping open the door to his office. It's empty aside from the horned man, a fact I already knew. Dream had helped in that aspect—he'd sent everyone away to do smaller tasks around Manburg in preparation for the war. The war that is now only two days away. Ugh. I couldn't have left this any later if I tried. And I really did try. But Dream had been adamant he needed paying before the deadline, not after.

Schlatt, who had been flipping boredly through a book, turns his dark gaze to me. His eyes immediately spark with interest as they land on the bottle and he hastily puts the book aside.

"What's that?" He asks.

"Toast," I say, placing the plate down beside him.

His face scrunches up, clearly unamused. "The wine, Ares. Tell me about the wine."

My smile falters for a split second before I pull myself together and flash a grin. I can do this. "I thought we could have a celebratory drink. You know, since we'll be winning this war in just a couple of days. I think we've earned it, don't you?"