Perfect • Dream

11

The party had been moved to a bigger room and Dream had left your side in order to chat with the other guests, leaving you to observe the patrons on your own. There were a variety of attendees mingling around with each other but at the same time they all seemed reserved in their own groups, you watched as some would glare at each other from across the room.

"So, Rose..." The familiar voice of the male from before entered your ears. You glanced in annoyance at him as he approached closer. Suddenly, he believed that he was on a first-name basis with you. Either the male ignored or was just oblivious to your glare based on the proud grin keeping its place on his lips, almost like he thought you were astounded at his presence. "I heard that you took a sabbatical in fine art history so I'm certain you're familiar with most of the work here."

You searched your thoughts in order to try to recognize his words, the closest you could get was remembering Rose mentioning something about taking art classes from a local painter before dropping the subject.

"What do you think of Las Meninas? Which perspective do you agree with?"

What did he just say? You had no idea the Meninas was and what it had to do with perspective. You concluded that it must have been old artwork that he decided to bring up as a way to confuse you and catch your amateurism.

Deciding that it was the best you could answer, you replied, "It's very... avant-garde..."

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" He continued, you had hoped that your vague answer would clearly spell out your discomfort with this conversation but he insisted, "I've heard you engage others in a passionate discussion about the fine arts. Am I not good enough for that or..." He stared into you as if he were dissecting every small movement you were making, "Perhaps our lady just isn't up to it tonight?"

You were trying your best to avoid his gaze when suddenly a young waiter caught your attention with the elegant champagne-filled glasses decorating the top of his tray. You called out to him, hand raised with a wave. Seeing you almost immediately, the waiter started his way over to you before stumbling and crashing on you. His shaggy brown hair covered his view from the bumpy flooring that decorated the floor beneath you.

You let out a reflexive gasp when the liquid spilled onto your skin beneath the dress. "I'm so so sorry, my lady." The boy stammered with panic before bending over quickly to retrieve his tray.

You sighed, "it's ok, it was an accident." In another world, you would have suggested that he tie up his hair so that it didn't interfere with his line of sight.

"Welcome to the opening of the Essempi Gallery! We're honored to have everyone here with us tonight!" The announcer greeted into the microphone. Reassuring the boy one last time you sent him off before turning your focus on the lady. "May we invite our guests of honor Dream and Rose up on stage for the opening toast!"

The audience applauded and the man from before smirked at your panicked expression before sauntering away. You cursed under your breath as you looked down at your stained dress, the drinks stains plaguing it with a darker spotty pattern.

Suddenly you felt a heavy fabric place itself on your shoulders. Looking over your shoulder Dream returned the glance with a reassuring tight smile.

Dream confuses you. He's supposedly this scary villain who hides behind his mask and rides on his notoriety but you haven't felt any of that from him. Sure, he's not the most affectionate and your marriage is nothing more than a cover. But he's not the worst person to be around.

"They're waiting for us. Shall we?"

Deciding to go against your intuition you leaned up to peck the corner of his lips. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you."

He stared at you blankly before quickly snapping out of his shock, "A very public display of affection while everyone is looking over? That's a brilliant move."

You giggled at his attempt to cover up his flustered state. "Actually, it has nothing to do with that and I'm not acting." You turned to now stand shoulder to shoulder beside each other, offering him a smile and tightening the coat around you. "I just really wanted to thank you."

His hand reaches down to yours, enveloping your cold hand with his warmth and guiding you toward the stage together.

This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience, he said to himself. Under the watchful gaze of the guests, the very same man holds your hand and leads you up to the stage.

"Thank you all for coming tonight." He pauses letting the audience settle in their applause. "It's a joyous occasion and it's definitely even more so now that my partner is here to share it with me. In fact, I'd like her to lead the toast together."

You turned to him in surprise stuttering in confusion to which he responded with a comforting squeeze of your hand while handing you a glass with his other.

Taking a deep breath, "Cheers!" you beam down at the guests who reciprocate with their own yell of celebration and raised their glasses into the air.

You will not share my power he says. Yet tonight, he stands quietly behind as you take the spotlight. It's a gesture so simple yet empowering at the same time.

-

"Thank y-" The rest of your sentence dies on your lips. You watch him disappear behind his door while staying in the middle of the dark hall. The ceremony had ended a while ago and on your way back there was nothing but gentle banter between Dream and you. That was until now.

He must be tired, you brushed off his sudden change in demeanor and entered your room. With an 'oomph' your body jumped with the spring of the mattress. Kicking off your shoes and wanting to change out of your dress into some nice sweats you were suddenly reminded of the heavy fabric around your shoulders.

You groaned in annoyance, you had forgotten to return Dream's jacket. As much as you would just like to pass out here and sleep like a baby you decided against it, better to get it over with.

You made your way out of your room, feet causing the floor to creak under your weight. You've never been in his room before. Your mind wandered to the various possibilities of what the inside could possibly look like.

Knocking on the hardwood you waited a few seconds for a response, no answer. You tried again, this time pressing your ear against the material in order to see if you could hear any clue to his silence. Unsurprisingly, you were met with just that, silence.

"Hey Clay! I'm gonna come in and drop off your jacket! Just a warning!" The door groaned out when you opened it. It slid smoothly against the wooden floor and fell back into place behind you.

Your eyes studied the room, it looked a lot like yours. The crying cracks on the obsidian walls glowed, illuminating the space in its hue. He had shelves of various trinkets and souvenirs on the walls with another corner designed as a workbench, essential crafting material littered the floor and desk.

Your eyes looked at his bed, your earlier theory of him sleeping being immediately debunked when you were met with an empty one. The only evidence that the bed had even been used was the disheveled sheets and Dreams mask lying on top. Wait, Dreams Mask! What was it doing on the bed and not on him-

"What the hell! What are you doing inside my room?!"

~ 1327 Words