Art of Seduction (Ink Edition)

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Summary: Why Dream can't have nice things.

Dream's foot tapped to beat of the song playing while he nodded along to the lyrics, using the knife in his hand to chop the fresh ingredients for lunch in rhythm

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Dream's foot tapped to beat of the song playing while he nodded along to the lyrics, using the knife in his hand to chop the fresh ingredients for lunch in rhythm.

The kitchen was quiet.

Well, aside from the upbeat tune playing on the radio sitting on the countertop behind and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board as it sliced through fruits/vegetables (asparagus, zucchini, bell peppers, carrots, and et cetera).

The yellow-clad skeleton halted his movement and took a deep breath, basking in the calm permeating throughout the house. Not a single room held the noises of art supplies in use or the obnoxiously loud chatter of his husband.

It was simply peaceful.

And that was perfect.

Perhaps he would use this golden opportunity to relax. Enjoy the tranquillity to its fullest by reacquainting himself with the criminally plush reading chair in the sunroom. The very one he hadn't sat in for ages.

He gently laid the knife beside the cutting board, moving his prepped ingredients into separate bowls, and rinsing the plastic surface for the fish fillet he planned on serving alongside them.

Thank the stars Ink is being calm for once in his life. Now I can finally have some quiet time to myself.

And cook a lovely meal without having an overgrown toddler try to add glitter and paint to it every five seconds.

Unfortunately, the Guardian of Positivity appeared to have spoken (or thought) too soon.

Not seconds after the internal dialogue completed, the soulless skeleton came bursting through the kitchen doorway. Covered head-to-toe in twigs and leaves. "Dreamy, be my boyfriend!"

The yellow-clad protector jolted, nearly dropping the cutting board into the sink.

"Ink, what are you doing?!" He gasped, eye sockets soon narrowing as he took in the sight of the dark limbs and shiny, oval-shaped green leaves. "Are those branches from my prized magnolia tree?"

"Uhhh..."

Dream promptly glanced out the kitchen window to see the mangled plant's remains, snarling at the sight. "It took me over a hundred years to grow it to that large!"

Ink blinked, unbothered. "So is that a 'no' to dating?"

"We're already married!"

A wide grin soon spread across the artist's face. "Wow, really? Tree relationships sure move quickly."

"I'm not a tree."

In a flash, Ink moved directly in front of him and proceeded to yank down his yellow shirt's collar and reveal his chest- which, in turn, caused the cutting board to clatter against the sink's metal and an indignant squeak to sound throughout the kitchen.

He then silently reached forward and plucked a yellow, feathery leaf-like growth off the exposed sternum. As if to prove a point.

Dream scowled. "I'm still not a tree."

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