Predator (DWT x OC)

9

I wake up to the soft glowing light of early morning. It's peaceful, the rustling of flowing water calming in the background, overcast sky dousing the outside in muted grey light. I sigh, snuggling under the covers, comfortable and warm. Almost too warm. There's a heavy weight on my waist, and something solid and radiating heat tucked against my back. I'm slowly gathering my senses, and then I realise who's bed I'm in.

Oh no.

I freeze, realising what's happening. Dream's arm is currently slung over my waist, trapping me against him. I can hear him snoring lightly behind me, and his breath tickles the back of my neck. My heart rate is ratcheting up, and I'm getting more and more panicky as I try and figure out how to get out of this, without waking him up.

His arm is tucked over me too tightly, and no matter how much silent thrashing I do, I can't wriggle out of his grip. I've managed to get enough space between us to inch my body around, and eventually I end up facing him.

His mask is off.

The first thing I notice is how young he looks. He doesn't look much older than me, with pale skin and smatterings of freckles dotted over his face, his face is relaxed in sleep, giving him youthful innocence I haven't seen when he's awake. He's also really handsome, with a strong jawline and a straight nose.

Ok, what the hell is up with me today?

He also has a scar that runs above his left eyebrow, and before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out to run my finger along it. Then he opens his eyes. I snatch my hand back, stomach flipping at the sight of him so close. His arm is still tight around my waist, and we're only a couple centimetres apart.

"Well, isn't this a nice sight to wake up to."

I try and ignore the way his voice, rough and deep from sleep, send shivers down my spine, the way it makes my breath catch in my throat. Instead I glare at him.

"Let go of me." I snap, resuming my struggle to get out of his grip. Instead he just smiles at me, bright green eyes still dazed with sleep, and pulls me closer as he rolls on his back.

"What are you doing?!" I screech, face pressed into his neck. Thankfully, he doesn't sleep naked. His shirt smells like smoke. He doesn't respond as I desperately struggle to break his strong hold on me. I'm smushed into his side, trapped by his arm, which is clamped over my lower back. I can hear his snores pick back up and oh my god he fucking fell asleep again.

I'm in his bed, currently cuddling him. My face is burning furiously now, stomach fluttering at our closeness. I grit my teeth and quietly stew in my rage, imagining smothering him with a pillow, if only my arms weren't pinned against my body by his. Then he starts shaking, and I realise he's laughing. As if holding me hostage and constantly tormenting me isn't enough, he's laughing at me. I scowl into his chest as he chuckles, then finally releases me.

I practically leap off the bed, eager to get away from him, and plonk myself down in a chair, glaring at him. He gives me a wide smile, and I notice the way his eyes crease, the way his whole face lights up, the way h- ok Rosie...I think it's time you calm down. He sits up, resting on the headboard of the bed, looking directly at me. It's weird, seeing him this way, in his own room, so normal and so non threatening, hair mussed from sleep, rubbing his eyes sleepily like he isn't a psychopathic tyrant ruining my life. But, enough with the theatrics.

"You look good in my clothes princess." He smirks, breaking the innocence facade. That smirk never fails to fill me with rage and my hands are itching to break something, preferably his face. I glance down at my outfit, realising that wearing his clothes wasn't the smartest of ideas I've had.