dormiveglia

05 | if they cared

Wilbur Soot,
I've noticed you acquired a new, masked member to your battalion. Unfortunately, due to all the damage she's caused, and setbacks forced— I need to meet with you tomorrow, at 10:00 AM sharp, at my home. Please arrive alone, or with one other; though without the newest addition to your team. She isn't welcome.

Hope you listen, and do this for the greater good of your country's fate.

Sincerely, Dream :)

—
After caping the passage off with a written smile, a psychical frown, he tossed his head backwards, as his chair caught his neck, rolling his eyes. It's been a gruesome few days for him; he was so tired though he couldn't sleep. Dreading every single night where he had to lay alone in the dark, closing his eyes and trying so hard to put himself asleep. Very similar to his situations a month ago now, when he had met this woman in his dreams.
He looked forward to sleeping every night, until he stopped seeing her. Upset she hadn't turned up yet, losing hope that she ever would. Believing now it was a silly set of dreams that his mind worked up miraculously— despite the fact he had been a very unimaginative person since he was young. He often kicked himself for ever letting his mind trick him into thinking she was ever real, or that they would be able to meet. All too sweet to be apart of this vile reality of life he lived in.

Though he couldn't help but have his mind shift to thought to her face, and her voice. Even if she wasn't real, she felt so lifelike; whoever was trying to taunt his brain was doing a damn good job. It was the weirdest sensation he felt tucked away in some corner of his mind— safer than he felt with friends he had known practically his whole life. So vulnerable, something he dreaded around everyone he's ever met, only it felt warm in those small moments. He hated hearing her now, when it used to bring him comfort in the palace of his mind; or the shared portion of their minds, the part that brought this two people together— out of fate or whatever the hell else it could've been. Even though he hated hearing her, he hated more not being able to return. Wanting so desperately to do so. Believing it was his fault that he couldn't bring himself back to that place, to throw him in the false state of being he would much rather be in. He thought all of that before shaking it all away, because it was never real. Just a ridiculous dream that his analytic and realist mind couldn't even fathomed to be any form of reality whatsoever.

As busy as he is, he doesn't really have much time to dwell on fantasies anyways. The embassy was just burned down, and all the equipment they stored away were taken. L'manberg had the upper hand, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Ripping his head out of the clouds, he has work to do. Trifolding the letter as he slides envelope briskly out of his drawer; in a beautiful flow of movements as it was almost routine. Pouring the pre melt wax and pressing down the green smile stamp.

The back of his mind worked so hard to configurate a reasoning for all of it; everything that had happened recently. Why she hadn't showed up, though L'manberg someone snagged themselves a immensely well trained fighter out of nowhere. All of this stayed on the back burner, he didn't even realize he was thinking of this. That was until it all hit him very quickly— he stopped seeing her in his dreams when this new woman showed up.
He finally allowed his heart to speak on the matter, giving his brain a rest; one it didn't want to take. As his mind yelled how dumb he was to even assume this coincidence to be something of that power, his heart felt just the opposite. Every bone in his body wanted to believe this to be her; that she had made her way to him. The smallest smile slowly peaked onto his lips, as his heart fluttered the smallest bit of hope. His brain tried to shut it all down; except the part that started all of this, wanting to pull as much up to the surface— each side battling the other giving him a headache.

As footsteps grace across the older hard wood floors. It wasn't Sapnap nor George, as he knew the way their feet carried them by now. Up in the air of the other two people he was aligned with at the moment. Slowly opening the heavy door of his study, locking eyes— or sunglasses— with Eret. A L'manberg warrior.
Or at least he was at one point.

He was just someone who wanted the best for all of those people who were risking their lives for a country that hadn't truly been born yet. So he spoke with Dream, months back, eventually coming to the agreement that he would side with the masked man; in the background that is. Whole heartedly believing that this was the best option for his friends; only he would just be bringing them more pain.

"Oh! I was just dropping off something for George, sorry to bother. I'll be on my way now." Eret waves, beginning to exit. Apologetic because these two hadn't too many interactions, contrary to popular belief. Only he was kinda the man Dream was looking for, oddly.

"Uhm, It's alright! Actually can I speak with you for a moment?"