AN- I had a brainstorm meeting with my sister yesterday to start some in depth planning for our book now that we have made our plot. We were talking about what would happened when the two main characters met and also if they would, you know, being a thing or not. So I wrote a little snapshot, trying to see what they would do in some different situations. And here's one of them, edited to be DNF lol, so sorry if the story line seems a bit wacky. I definitely took this a bit further with the DNF than with our OG characters (my girl character literally ends up beating up the other when they hit the door instead). Just expect to get stories like this, based off of the characters my sister and I made, decently often haha. I've got to save time somewhere :)
Dream POV-
The live music and terrible singing of the dark bar stung my ears while sweaty bodies swung in front of the stage. The awful smell of alcohol filtered into my nose as I nurse the beer in front of me. I scanned along the crowd, unimpressed, raising the glass to my mouth, simply allowing the bitter liquid to touch my tongue, none of the liquid going down my throat.
It was not a place I would normally visit, but the tip I received said that he visits here often. Rolling my eyes at the thought of some drunkard politician I had been hired to take out, I catch sight of a brown-haired man, swaying through the crowd. His fluffy brown hair bounced as he swayed to the movements. I blink in annoyance of the strange feel creeping into my stomach, and continue scanning the bar, people filling every empty seat. Placing my glass back on the table, I end up glaring sideways at some drunk dude with pink-hair, braided up into a bun.
"Hey handsome, can I replace your drink there?"
I don't drop my glare, my lips turned downwards in a small frown as I lift my hand to my dark green hood, pulling the edge further over my eyes, "touch me. I break you."
I really hated the no mask rule in this damn posh bar, and I missed the smily mask I usually wore during work. I had it clasped to my thigh at the moment, the buckle digging into my sensitive skin.
"Oh," the man snickered, I could almost hear the smirk on his face, "playing hard to get..."
Before he gets another word out, I release my hood, reaching my hand across and smashing his face into the counter below us. He groans and I lift him back up, tossing him off of the stool. I don't even have half a second as someone else sits beside me, their hand resting in my shoulder. My annoyance had skyrocketed at this point, the noise in my ears giving me a throbbing headache and the alcohol stench making me want to throw up, so I reached over, grasping their wrist, flipping him over my back and smashing him into my glass of beer. Shards fly around us as large brown eyes stare wide eyed at me, but he wasn't scared.
Not being scared is what bothered me the most and I huff. I just wanted to be done with this tonight, and now here I was, causing a scene. Luckily the man below me looked almost picture perfect to the description given of the politician, fluffy brown hair, large brown eyes and even his shorter stature.
The man just giggles, the sound loud in the now silent bar, everyone's eyes turned towards us. The giggling caused my blood to boil and heat to rise to my face and I drug the man from the counter, not caring as he hits the glass covered ground, yelping in pain.
"What are you all looking at?" I bark, my eyes probably glowing in warning under my cloak. The music slowly starts back up as I continue to drag the drunken man towards the room I had rented. I twist my silver key into the door handle before struggling for a moment with one hand to open the door, my other still gripping the man's shirt tightly.
I toss him into the room, locking the door behind me. Turning towards the brunet, I sweep my hood back and slip a small throwing knife out of my sleeve. I was only a couple steps away from him but before I could even take one, the brunet had scrambled to his feet, candlelight sparkling in his eyes as he drunkenly smiles at me.
I sneer in return and we both take a step towards each other at the same time. He was only one step away so I swiftly raise my arm to swipe at him with the dagger, aiming for his vital spots on his neck. Yet I missed, no, he stopped me, grabbing my wrist and pushing back on it, his body against mine. I could easy overpower him. But something different has clouded my mind.
He takes a step forward and I instinctively take one back.
"Dang, What's an assassin doing in this humble town?"
He steps forward again and I step back, trying to free my hand, but he just grabs my other hand, smirking as my back hits the door.
He slams my hands against the wood and my hand flinches, dropping the dagger to the floor, "what a gorgeous assassin."
What was happening? There is no way this drunk flirty idiot was the politician. If he was, he would have noticed how I tried to kill him but he instead just ignored the knife.
He leans closer to me, his body completely against mine as he looks up to me, "what's your name?"
The man's hands release my wrists and begin tracing up my arms to rest at my chest. I'm still completely frozen, but I'm able to mutter a small "Dream" out.
"Hmmm, I'm George." His eyes are nearly as black as the night sky out the window, his pupils reflecting the candlelight.
George. George Davidson. The man I'm supposed to be killing.
I swallow harshly, bringing myself back to reality as I shove him off of me. He stumbles back, shock written all over his face. I close my eyes to the strange feeling fill my stomach at his saddened face, and flick out another blade.
I begin advancing on the smaller brunet as he backs up against the wall across from the door, "Wha- what are you doing?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Ridding the world of you." Just saying those words made my the blood in my body freeze, sending a shiver down my back. Where was the typical rush I normally had with the kill?
The burnet just stood stock still, his eyes widened in fear, clearly upset that his little flirty ploy had failed him. I smile at the thought, my lips twitching upwards.
"I- I've never done anything."
"Oh? So it wasn't you who leaked the files from the government? It had your signature on the release papers. You can't hide it."
George's eyes widen further in shock. Tears begin spilling out of his eyes as his knees gave out. I don't let him hit the floor though, holding him up with a leg between his, ignoring my thoughts of how close we were.
"Is that why we've been losing the war? Someone has taken my name and stolen the files?' His voice was so small, I could tell the news had shocked him, and not it the 'dang, they found me' way. He was genuinely shocked at the news.
But his next words made my resolve snap.
"Okay Dream. I'm ready to die," his scared demeanour had been replaced by a nervous, yet resolved one, "It's better that I die and stop the man from using my name."
I step back, my knife falling to the floor, "You're not joking are you." It wasn't a question. Just a statement which he nodded to. His legs still shook slightly as he stood against the wall, his forehead glistened with sweat and his eyes were wide and fearful. His lips were opened slightly as small puffs of nervous air escaped them.
And with him standing against the wall, I couldn't help but see how small he was, yet so brave. He was willing to sacrifice himself for his country.
I don't even notice the knife that had hit the floor as I step back towards him, "I won't kill you."
He shook his head, "You have too."
"Run away with me."
He breath caught in his throat as his gaze raised into mine, "Dream?"
Something else had just taken over my body as I leaned closer to him, "you're gorgeous, and I can't go destroying such a masterpiece."
George just blinked, gazing further into my eyes.
"Tell me to stop George," my voice had lowered without me even trying. My mind can't seem to catch up to what my body wanted, but all I knew was my mind wanted it almost as badly.
I gazed down at George as I stepped the last step, forcing our bodies together as he was pushed into the wall. I rested my elbow on the wall beside his head, leaning impossibly close.
"Tell me to stop."
"Do you want to stop?"
No. No I didn't want to stop. My mind had caught hold of this idea of a perfectly patriotic man, willing to die in cold blood for the country, and it made me crazy. And George was gorgeous at the same time, making my body crave him.
"No," I lowered my voice even lower, the rumble in my chest noticed by George as his face turns slightly pink.
"Then don't stop."
This was not what I was supposed to be doing. My professional front had crumbled in seconds in front of this brunet, but I didn't care. So, using my free hand, I lift his face to mind, shoving our lips together harshly. My body had thawed as a burning in my stomach rose upwards.
George had completely lost control and his legs gave out completely, I replace my knee between his legs as he slumps completely down, his body giving into me, but he was clearly fighting my dominance as he throws his arms around my neck, hoisting himself closer to me, deepening the kiss just as I tried to pull away.
I gasp in shock as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, running it along my teeth. I force his tongue back as I force mine into his mouth, gaining a soft moan.
I can hardly keep myself quiet at this point as George instinctually grinds against my knee, trying to get closer to my lower body.
I pull back from him, drool connecting our lips, and I remove my knee, gaining a whine from George. I grasp his hips, helping him stand as I stare down at the mess, his hands still wrapped around my neck, pulling at my hair, trying to bring me back.
"Run away with me George."
A quiet moan escapes his mouth at my lowered voice, my breath hitting his ear. He shoves himself against me as my breath hitches at the contact of our hips, "Make me yours Dream. Take me until I can't walk, then I'll run away. We can run away together, away from this stupid land that has controlled our lives forever. We can be free."