Masked Emotions // Dream6d

Chapter 6

Warning: Mention of death, strong language, sexual innuendos

A cloaked figure stepped into the room, bearing a horribly familiar white mask. He seemed to freeze in place the moment he noticed Vincent. The servant stared in shock, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. Why was the hitman there?! Why was the hitman surprised to see Vincent?! Was he only expecting Darryl?!

" How do you always find a way to be everywhere at the worst times," Dream muttered, moving his mask so his frown was visible. There was a pregnant silence, and Vincent noticed Darryl being uncomfortably relaxed. " Why are you looking at me like that? Can't you just go back to smiling like you were a second ago?!"

Vincent almost responded, until he realized that the comment wasn't directed towards him, but to Darryl. The chef was glaring holes into Dream, with a meanness the younger man had never witnessed before. " You brought him into this?!"

Vincent recoiled slightly, surprised by the chill in the older man's tone. Dream cocked a hip and crossed his arms. With a wave of his hand, he played it off as nothing. " He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why do you think the King's still alive?!"

" Dream, he could die!"

" So could we!" The blonde threw his arms up in the air. " Why's his life any more important than ours?!"

Vincent nearly jumped when Darryl threw the covers off and stormed across the room to the hitman. The bandages on his head were the only sign that he was still unwell. Darryl was slightly shorter than Dream, but he radiated the same intimidating energy. " Listen, Dream. I already risked my job to get you in here! I'm not about to risk my friend's life to get you out!"

"... What?"

The two men looked over their shoulder at the servant still on the bed. Darryl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. " I think you should go, Vincent."

" This really isn't a chat you should here, A6D," Dream agreed. Vincent stared blankly for a few seconds, processing everything and trying to understand.

     Darryl was working with Dream.

Darryl padded over. He gently put a hand on the servant's shoulder, but Vincent yanked away. He shook his head. " No... I'm staying. You two are debating me. I'm going to be apart of this conversation."

The chef looked like a worried mother, while the hitman's mouth was pulled into a thin line. Vincent felt like he'd been stabbed multiple times within the span of a few hours. He'd been dragged into this mess of a situation, along with one of his best friends and a notorious hitman. Vincent put his head in his hands, trying to think. After a few moments of silence, Darryl began whisper-fighting with Dream, as if Vincent couldn't still hear them.

" What does he know so far?!" Darryl hissed. Dream shrugged, acting like a grumpy teenager.

" Just the basis. I'm a hitman called Dream. I tried to kill the King and he stopped me. I don't think he ingested the drug, so he caught me in the act. Now, he knows you're involved," the taller man explained. Darryl looked like he was about to burst. " Oh! And I'm staying in his room until further notice."

Vincent heard a loud snap and looked up to see that Darryl had snapped a nearby comb in half. The two other men blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. " No! That is it, Dream! This isn't a game! We're trying to kill a king, not play with a servant!"

" Aw~! Are you sure we can't play with a little?" Dream whined, but Vincent felt his cheeky expression from across the room. Without warning, the servant felt his ears heat up. Was he blushing?