Graphology - DNB

Chapter 1

"You could have contradicted him, you know that right?" George sits at the dining room table, Sapnap and Dream are already eating.

The three had recently moved to the new server; they had built a spruce house in the middle of a flower field, not far from the snowy spawn. The cottage wasn't heavily decorated, but the walls served mainly as protection from mobs and other players (unless the latter were Tommy, walls never stopped Tommy).

Dream snorts looking intently at the bowl of cereal as if he were looking for an answer in the light color of the milk, his appetite disturbed at the mention of the subject.

“Listen. I know him, I’m telling you that whatever came out of my mouth he would have turned it against me." He drops the cereal he had collected in his spoon into the bowl below. “It was a stupid joke. I mean, we always make them, it's nothing so shocking, come on." The blond was well aware of the fact that his friends understood he had not told the whole story, but he hoped to be able to get away with it anyways.

Sapnap looks up from the communicator, a mouthful of pancakes in his mouth “Yes, but not Technoblade. He doesn't seem like the type to do dick jokes." says the younger one after having swallowed.

"And most of all, the redness of your ears every time we talk about it isn't very sneaky, Dream." His left elbow hits Dream's shoulder and the blonde suddenly has the urge to eat his cereal with a knife.

A very sharp knife.

"I don't understand what you mean." The fighter thanks the mask he wears for the protection it gives to his face, way too red for him to be comfortable.

"You know what we mean, Dream." The oldest of the three sighs. “We don't ask you much, but we want to be here for you. Talk to us- please. " George had always been good at convincing Dream; no secret is safe in front of George and his soft voice.

Cereals now abandoned on the table, Dream jumps up. George may have been good at making him talk, but the blond had now understood that running away from his heterochromic eyes and his sweet voice was always effective. Unless the brunette decided to chase him.

“Dream, don't run away, you do it every single time. You are predictable." the blond feels his own body stiffen.

Plagued a little by feelings of guilt, Dream turns to look at George, a sympathetic look on his face; Maybe he could talk about it.

"Yes Dreamie, I know you want to run into the arms of The Blade but you have to communicate with your best friends." With tension and feelings of guilt gone, Dream heads for the door.

"Ok that's it. I'm leaving." Only thought in his head? Find new best friends.

With his feet out of the house, the blond closes the door behind him, a breeze carrying a sweet scent of flowers inhibits his senses. Slowly inhaling and exhaling the fresh air, memories of the previous day resurface; images of piercing rubies, cherry blossom hair, claws that caress the wood of a barrel that rise, rise, rise-

Shaking his head the man wakes up from his own mind, thoughts melt, leaving only certain words to revolve around him.

What he had with his two best friends was a stupid argument, really. Dream was aware of it and would have kept thinking about it, even as his feet began to move in a random direction. He just wanted to get away from the judgmental, but never negative, views of George and Sapnap.

He still needed to assimilate what happened; he didn't even know what he felt, let alone put it into words.

It was amazing how such a silly joke had wreaked such havoc in his head. He had always been used to talking to his best friends like that, to the point that their fans were convinced that this was a way to hide a less platonic relationship between them. Whatever the combination was it didn't matter, it was the secret that fascinated the fans of the three. Chuckling, Dream thinks of the whispers he had heard more than once at the market stalls.