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"THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG NIGHT IF YOU'RE GOING TO IGNORE ME," Michael's voice crossed the room, meeting her ears and slightly muffling the sound through the blanket covering her ears.
She chose not to answer, hoping he'd think she's fallen out of their shared dreamscape. Going to sleep was something one often looked forward to after a tiring day, but Molly had come to absolutely abhor the activity. Simply because, Michael was often there too.
She had no idea why they would meet in their dreams, or how their brains were connected. Molly had guessed it was something she was subconsciously enforcing, due to the fact that she could cross into his room but he couldn't come near hers. Not that she ever would, again.
"I know you're awake, Molly," he continued with a chuckle, tossing a ball up into the air and catching it out of boredom. "You're not snoring, so it's easy to tell."
"I don't snore," she snapped, rolling her eyes and flinging the blanket off of her head, it was getting far too warm underneath it. "And even if I did, I highly doubt I snore in a dream."
"So you were ignoring me," he beamed triumphantly, as if he had won something. Molly gave up ignoring him, unable to escape the dream and knowing full well he wasn't going to stop pestering her. She sat up in her bed, resting her back against the headboard and looking at him with a deadly glare.
"You want to talk?" She smirked suddenly, a thought coming to her mind that she would use against him. "Let's talk about how you tried to save me."
"I didn't try, nor need, to save you," his smile faded, now that the tables were turned on him. "You're the second coming of Christ. If all it took to kill you was a measly truck, then there was no point in you being born at all."
"You pushed me out of the way, still," she crossed her arms over her chest, raising a dark eyebrow. "Does it pain you to see people get hurt?"
At this, he barked a hearty laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.
"Oh, Miss Second Coming, if you knew half as much as you pretended to you wouldn't be quite so entertaining."
"Stop calling me Second Coming," she huffed. "It sounds vaguely dirty coming from the mouth of the Antichrist."
"Why? Do you always come second?" He winked playfully, chuckling to himself again. Molly shuddered at his insinuation.
"Well I suppose that's why you're known as Satan's firstborn then, because you always come first," she fired back, cringing at her words as she spoke them and realised they didn't sound half as insulting inside her head. He laughed nonetheless.
