Part 2 Remember ~Dreamnoblade~

An unknown passing of time

~ahaha, I've been going back a reading little bits here and there where new comments pop up, and I love how I wrote Ghostbur. So innocent, so oblivious, and so extremely fragile. He was also fun to write:) TW-> burn-ish injury to wrist

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Dream wakes up thrashing, hitting hard porcelain, quartz, tile, wood, really everything around him.

He was still on the bathroom floor, having fallen asleep in his wait for Techno and them to return.

He was in the bathroom under the stairs, probably the furthest away from any windows he could possibly get in this house.

He hadn't brought a clock with him, so he didn't know how much time had passed, the only indicator being the rumble of hunger in his stomach.

But he couldn't focus on that right now, he was still breathing heavily, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation, still not having come back to full awakeness.

His hands are bunched up in the fabric at the chest of his hoodie as he stares at the ceiling, avoiding looking directly into the light above him.

Tears are streaming down his face, uncomfortably falling into his ears, causing him to sit up and shake his head a bit.

Looking around the room he sees the mess of towels and items, previously on the counter, around him. He must've hit, pulled, and kicked all this stuff in his desperate attempt to get away from the dream.

It didn't feel like a dream though. It felt more real. But it had to be a dream, he'd just woken up in a completely different part of the house, and, that Dark guy had said at some point that it was a dream, making a comment about his name along with it.

It was all just a dream. Dark was just a character, or whatever Techno had said that day. Just something Dream was having extremely real feeling dreams about.

He was okay. He was okay here, in the bathroom, hiding under the stairs from a threat Techno wouldn't tell him about for his own safety.

So he wasn't okay. Especially given Techno nor Toua had returned. Foolish hadn't either, unless he had and was too afraid to come tell him he was back.

Dream looks down at his stomach when it growls again. Luckily, Techno had the foresight to think to put some food in his little hiding place.

He rummages through the mess he'd made, finding the small bag of food under a somehow extremely unraveled roll of toilet paper.

As he sits back against the bathtub, and his adrenaline fades away, he starts to realize just how much of his body aches, most likely a combination of sleeping on a tile floor and thrashing on said tile floor.

But what hurt the most was his left wrist. That's where that Dark thing had grabbed him.

He rolls the sleeve of his hoodie up enough to see the dark bruise forming on the, still red, skin of his wrist.

It looked almost like a burn, just without the blistering. Felt like a burn too. Hot to the touch, and stinging.

He sets the bag of potato chips he'd grabbed aside and pulls himself up to stand in front of the sink.

He's pretty sure that with a burn, you're supposed to run cold water over it, and since this feels like burn, he'll at least try it.

Running his burning wrist under the cold water feels nice, relieving.

He really did wonder, though, how much time really had passed.

Was it safe for him to leave the bathroom? They hadn't really discussed what would happen if Techno and them didn't return.

If they didn't return did that mean he just had to lie low? Did it mean he should go look for them? Or did it mean he stays in those bathroom with only the food he had in that bag, waiting?

He thought about this, going in circles, listing pros and cons, until the bag of chips in his hands was empty.

He gets up to the sink and leans over it, putting his lips beneath the faucet. Techno had the foresight to give him food but not a cup or any water bottle of sorts.

Feasibly, Dream was set with all the necessities in this bathroom; at least until the food ran out, which it inevitably would. Same with the food in the rest of the house, eventually, it would run out. Then what? He leaves the house? He didn't even know if it was safe to leave the bathroom, let alone go outside.

So he sits there, contemplating. Paying to attention to his surroundings. Paying no attention to any indication of time.

"There's a clock in the living room. Maybe it's visible from the doorway." He thinks to himself.

Dream nods, agreeing with himself.

He pulls himself up from the floor again, this time feeling more pain given his adrenaline had almost completely run out.

He creeps over to the door, staying at quiet as he could.

He places a hand on the door knob, turning it slowly, as quietly as possible.

Once it fangs turn anymore, he pushes the door open just a crack.

He has to lean his cheek against the door to see through.

He can't see the clock. "Damnit". But he can see the window behind the couch.

It's dark. So enough time had passed for the sun to have set already.

That's all he could discern from that. He couldn't tell how long ago the sun had set, just that it had.

"Fuck." He runs a hand over his face before slowly closing the door again.

"Maybe the party's just running late? Parties tend to go past sundown, right? Probably."

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~ahaha, maybe I'm back to posting regularly on Sundays we'll see👀 hope you enjoyed:)