(1) The Heart Doesn't Lie, But the Soul Sure Can Kill | Dreamnoblade

Eight (END) - The Soulmate and The Final Boy?

Techno tilted his head. "What kind of game?" He was intrigued, tapping a hand against his cheek.

"What about Go-Fish? Do you have a deck of cards?" Dream turned the TV down, switching channels to something that'd softly play music. He broke the radio and he didn't want to just be in silence with his captor.

He could still feel gentle, and then contrasting needy, hands on his body; shivering. He rolled his eyes with his back turned to Techno.

"Yes. I do." He watched the other fish through the drawers in the TV stand, moving a chess board out of the way to grab a standard deck.

Dream immediately slipped it out of his hands to shuffle the cards and pass them out. "You can go first, Techno." He could feel his arm tingle from the amount of hearts that covered it. It was romantic in a way, he guessed. Them sitting together with a pile of cards.

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two,

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you...

Dream spared a glance at the TV. While Techno spoke. "You got any aces?"

The blonde shook his head, tapping the pile of extra cards. "Go fish." He shuffled through the seven cards in his hands and looked over them. "Got a four?"

He watched the smile on Techno's face as the card was passed over, he never realized how the other could look so innocent and happy. A wolf in sheep's clothing? Or is that too cliche? All of this felt cliche.

Hey Jack, it's a fact they're talkin' in town,

I turn my back and you're messin' around.

I'm not getting jealous, don't like lookin' like a clown...

Techno nodded, passing the card over. He was then reaching and turning down the TV volume. "You know- this is just... So cute- got a king?"

I think of you every night and day,

You took my heart, and you took my pride away...

"What is?" Dream shook his head, tapping the pile. He found himself frowning and peering over the edges of his cards.

I hate myself for loving you,

Can't break free from the things that you do...

"This is just-" Techno drew a card, pairing one of the eights he had already. "So... Calm. Much different from you usually kicking and screaming."

I wanna walk but I run back to you,

That's why I hate myself for loving you...

Dream frowned. "What do you mean by that- got a jack?"

"Go fish. It's just so... Domestic. We have the rings- we could go get properly married- even though we already are-" The pinkette reached over, hand tightening around the ring Dream wore as a necklace.

"What?" Dream's hand went limp against the pile of cards. He'd pushed out the song like it was white noise.

"We could cuddle and elope-"

"Let's change games." Dream stared down at his cards, uncomfortable with the conversation. He had cut the other off and smacked their hand off the ring. Even if he was willing to sleep with the other, twice in the same night, he doesn't think he could settle with domesticity.

"What game?"

The silence between them was deafening, a strange sinister energy filling the house. Dream was supposed to be the 'Final Girl', was he not? They're the last one standing and they always win in one way or the other.

Emerald eyes were searching through ruby, Dream's adams apple bobbing in his throat. "Hide and seek. I'll be the hider. Close your eyes and count to 30." He held eye contact, staring at Techno and looking for any change in their disposition.

He was going to open his mouth to most likely question the game choice, but Dream cut him off by throwing his cards down.

He wasn't letting the other deny playing, standing up, turning the music on the TV louder, and using the noise of the device to mask his steps while he saw the other close their eyes.

Hide and seek, a children's game.

A children's game that Dream decided he wouldn't play by normal rules. His hands were shaking as he passed the photos of himself that lined the hallways, tripping on the carpet, but watching himself on the wall before he fell.

Fuck all the progress he made. He was getting out today. It was his new goal. He ran into the bedroom, grabbing his weapon.

His fingers curled around the handle of the baseball bat, off to find a hiding spot. He paused though, deciding against it.

Shit was going to get ugly.