LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲

Dream certainly felt a tingle of unease as he pried around a dead man's deserted home, scouring through his things, but he reminded himself that he had committed far worse deeds.

Truth be told, Dream wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find in Wilbur's old home. He wasn't searching for anything in particular, yet every discovery left him thoroughly unsatisfied.

Layers of dust had collected atop of all of the furniture, considering the small house had been abandoned for quite some time. Dream swiped the dust from the surface of a wooden desk and began to rummage through the stacks of books and papers that riddled the desk. Nothing caught Dream's eye until he pulled open the drawer and saw a selection of papers, bundled together with a paperclip, with a title written in the top left hand corner: Your City Gave Me Asthma.

His curiosity peaking, Dream extracted the sheets from the drawer and flicked through them, discovering that Your City Gave Me Asthma was an album written by Wilbur, consisting of seven songs. As he briefly scanned through the lyrics, one song in particular caught Dream's eye, because it was labelled: Your Sister Was Right — Rev's Favourite.

For some inexplicable reason, Dream felt his heart beat begin to quicken in his chest as he read the words that were sprawled across the page.

I thought I couldn't love anymore,

Turns out I can't, but not for the same reasons as before.

I use everyone I ever meet,

I can't find the perfect match,

Abuse those I love,

While I ostracise the ones who love me back.

He clenched his hand, crumpling the sheet into a ball. Pushing aside the unexpected feelings of guilt and regret that were stirring within him as he found himself connecting with the lyrics, Dream shoved Your Sister Was Right and the other six songs into his pocket. He would return to them at a later date, decipher and pick apart their lyrics, but he couldn't afford to feel emotional and guilty now, not when he had a nation to bring down and enemies to defeat.

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Frigid hands loosely gripping the handle, Reverie opened the door and was immediately overwhelmed with a blast of cold wind. A blanket of twinkling white powder covered the land and, sighing heavily at the realisation that she was going to have to wade her way through the heaps of snow, she stepped outside.

"Why can't he just go fishing himself?" Reverie grumbled under her breath.

"I can keep you company!"

Reverie flinched in alarm. She was never going to get used to Ghostbur silently sneaking up on her, even if his intention was not to frighten her.

Offering him a friendly smile, Reverie politely said, "That's alright, Ghostbur."

"But I wanted to hear more about Alivebur," Ghostbur said, causing Reverie's blood to run cold. "Tommy won't tell me anything, so I was hoping you could."

Reverie gulped harshly, the lump in her throat causing her mild amounts of pain. Her nerves tingled in discomfort and she chewed her lip, glancing feverishly at the ghost through the corners of her eyes.

"Oh... Ghostbur, I don't know—"

"Please," Ghostbur pressed, pushing his lips into a pout. Within his illusory eyes, Reverie could still see him—Wilbur, lost, never to return, but also to never be forgotten.