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    Summary

    The cover they had found was only temporary, laughably flimsy. Dream's mask was split down the middle, and his left arm was bleeding. The netherite sword had ripped right through his hoodie.
    "Don't worry about it George," Dream gave his friend a little smile before turning to peer around the rock formation. "Seven is a lucky number." It was a dying man's words. Dream had always been better at fighting than he had. George choked down a sob, forcing his voice to steady itself.
    "I made a promise to you," he was breaking down. "I made a promise to you, so I want you to promise me something now." Dream ducked back behind the rock as an arrow whizzed past where his head used to be. He nocked his own arrow. "I want you to promise that you won't forget." George kept his eyes trained on the ground. It was unfair, they both knew it.
    "I promise you, George," Dream said it so softly George would've missed it if adrenaline wasn't enhancing every single one of his senses, kicking him into overdrive. He glanced up quickly and felt the wind leave his lungs. There was so much there, in the single look they traded. Then Dream was gone. George heard iron meet netherite. Without looking back, he turned tail and ran.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,321
    Chapters:
    3/12
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
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