The Hitwoman's Heart// dreamwastaken x reader

Chapter 15

I was an hour into training with Sapnap and sweating my ass off. This became a normal routine for the both of us.

I used it as an excuse to get closer to him in case he turned out to be second in command but it also kept me in shape.

Sapnap wasn't as terribly cold as I thought him to be before this, he honestly was kind of fun to talk to. He had all these crazy stories of George, Dream and him as kids.

They used to play this game where Dream would run around trying to find a rusty bottle that George and Sapnap hid while the other two would try and chase him down. If the two tackled him down before he found the bottle they won.

It was a cute story and one I could tell was a good memory for Sapnap. The way his eyes light up or how he would remember a detail he forgot and wave his hands around.

But the story made me kind of sad. They seemed to have been close when they were young and now George makes it seem like he wants nothing to do with Dream.

That is the story I want to know. The one where they stopped seeing Dream as a friend but someone they were forced to follow.

I was so focused on making contact with the punching bag Sapnap held in front of me, I didn't notice Dream was there waiting for god knows how long.

Sapnap realized who I was looking at and nodded, releasing the bag and walking off to talk to the other guards in the room.

I grabbed my water bottle, drinking a couple sips before putting on the cap and sauntering over to where Dream waited.

"So this is why Sapnap has suddenly decided to wake up early," Dream said, "I've wondered why he started to show up to breakfast."

"Does that bother you?" I inquired because my day would have such a pleasant start if Dream admitted he was jealous of all the attention his childhood friends gave me.

Dream huffed out a breath.

"Let's just go," was all he said.

We walked towards the room I knew he was taking me to and I couldn't help but take my steps with a little more enthusiasm.

Once we reached the piano I sat on the black bench, hovering my hands over the white keys.

"Show me what you know," Dream told me as he stood to the side of me.

What did I know? I mean I haven't played in years and I only got the chance to that night with my mom. I'd be lucky if I could even put together a song.

"This is a stupid idea," I say after realizing how embarrassing this was.

Dream sensing my hesitation, came closer to the bench, "Move over."

So I did, giving him space to sit next to me and I couldn't help but savor the touch of my shoulder against his arm.

Dream played a little, letting me watch and listen. It was a simple song, a song that should be easy to anyone that was watching.

But I wasn't really focused, I was watching but not to remember what keys he hit. I was watching his hands and the way they moved with ease. Somewhere in the middle of the song I couldn't help but glance up at Dream.

I trailed my eyes across the scars that marked spots on his neck and parts of his face. I want him to tell me every story of how he got each one.

I cursed myself because now more than ever I wanted to know his stories. I wanted to know his favorite memories as a kid along with the worst ones. I wanted him to tell me his favorite ice cream flavor and why. I want to know him.

Noticing my stare, he looks up at me. "Maybe if you concentrated more on the notes than my face you would know how to play."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks and I cursed myself again because of how dumb I must look. Dream smiled wickedly and I hated the satisfaction I just gave him.

"I'll focus, it's just-" I stop myself from continuing because I know once I continue I'll be going down a path that will be hard to return to.

How selfish of me to want to know him. I'm here to kill him, I'm here so my brother and I can have a better life and what am I choosing to do instead? Sit at a piano and ponder about how I want to get to know a man whose life I have to take.

That is cruel, cruel to Tubbo, to Dream and to me.

Dream parts his lips and I wait for him to push me further but he closes them.

"I should leave," I say quietly and unconfident.

I get up but Dream puts a hand out to stop me.

"Before you go, I wanted to talk to you about something... there is a dance that we host here. It's for fundraising but I know a lot of people think it's a lot of fun."

I don't know if I'm breathing.

"I was just letting you know you could invite your family. I could help you learn a song and you can play it for your mom, show her how good you got at it," Dream says softly, "I'm not always the most welcoming person but I think you should know that this is your home too so invite her and the rest of your family whenever you want."

I thought about the idea of it, my mom dressed in whatever beautiful dress she could sew up and my dad in the only suit he owned and my brother refusing to wear anything nice. I imagine them running up to me and hugging me so tightly that I couldn't breathe. I could see everyone gathering around the piano as I played a song for them. I could see their smiles and hear the 'I'm proud of you'.

I loved the idea of it even if it would never become a reality.

However, the way Dream said it. This is your home too.

I wonder if getting this piano for me wasn't to keep me on a leash but to make me feel like I was home because my happiest memory was playing it with my mom.

Now I would have to tell him the truth about my family, that my mom will never get to see me play or that I'll never get to hear that my parents were proud of me.

But as I tried to tell him, I couldn't speak. I tried to force words to come out of my mouth but when I looked at Dream's worried face, I could say nothing.

I could do nothing as tears streamed down my cheek or when Dream pulled me into his chest.

I felt his arms wrap around me and I sobbed.

Dream never asked me to explain, he just held me as I cried. Cried for an idea that will never exist, cried for the home that Dream offered me.

I've never had anyone to hold me while I broke apart because of my parents death. Not when I had to be strong for Tubbo, to hold him while he mourned for our parents.

For this moment in Dream's arms I allowed myself to be weak. To be a girl who just wanted her parents back.

It made my heart hurt a little more when I came to the decision my mom would've liked him.