My eyes adjusted to the lights dimming and morphing into a world of endless expanse of grass and trees that surrounded me. It was no longer a mess of ideas like how it began in his previous dream. Everything was pretty normal, though a bit boring with the lack of unique locales I've only dreamed about. I glanced to my feet where void trapped me in place. Last time, he somehow destroyed that. I'm not even sure how but he just did. I didn't think that I could interact with somebody's dream until that day.

I couldn't find Spencer anywhere in the dream, as if he was nowhere. Last time, I could see him wander, walking toward a mental asylum. It didn't seem like personal experience. More like a nightmare based off of something imaginative, which I believe is likely due to the random mesh of everything that was present.

Right before my eyes, a shack materialized, just like the one from his last dream. It just sort of popped into existence like a light flickering on swiftly. It was tiny and made of a dark brown wood that had various plants and grass tufts sprouting around its border. There was a set of stairs that lead to a front porch that had a table, a chair, and the quaint front door quietly sitting alone in the clearing centered within the ocean of trees.

I still couldn't find him anywhere. The same thing happened before, when he just vanished completely. When he did, the environment completely altered, morphing into an expanse of bright white snow that coated the base of the dream in a near instant. Even if the shack was still the same, everything felt renewed, as if it were redone for someone else to witness. It was in a place less cold, more welcoming than before. Plus, it immediately materialized, meaning he must already be lucid dreaming. I'm not sure how he's already lucid dreaming without some sort of event to trigger it. Perhaps through sheer will alone, he began to go lucid? That sounds stupid but it's possible he just wanted to control the dream. After all, Spencer seemed to break reality in front of me anyways with his lucid dreaming before. I'm assuming he can do it again.

All of the void that encircled me began to split apart. Light seeped through the darkness of the void that separated me from the dream, causing it to break and crumble around me until it vaporized. Standing before me was Spencer, blankly staring at me. He was at least a few inches taller than me here and he was still in his sleep state. His mouth moved, as if he was attempting to speak to me. Reading lips is a bad trait for me, so it was impossible for me to tell what he was saying. Mouthing a groan and crossing his arms, Spencer shut his eyes, his head vibrating intensely before he mouthed a sigh. Hesitantly, he extended a hand, saying yet another word that I couldn't comprehend. I held onto it.

Swiftly, I was pulled out of the place I once eternally stood in, the place where I observed the dreams of others from afar. Even if the location was so mundane, a mix of anticipation and excitement filled my internal form as he brought me through the army of simple trees that stood before us, pushing their towering heights upon us in an act of intimidation that failed to cause us to crumble. The grass that attempted to stab our medium of movement to death failed in their advances as we trekked through the world that shone fire against our eyes. Nothing could fail. Anything can work. Everything no longer matters to me, everything that wouldn't work or that would go against what worried me. It all melted away into a puddle that we leaped across as he planted a dominant foot on the first step to heaven.

Again, he mouthed a word I couldn't understand whatsoever but I didn't care. I made my way up to the stairs with a growing adrenaline of joyous vigor. My eyes adjusted to his silly smile as he caught up with me as I rushed to the front door. When I reached for the door knob, he reached first. We both latched onto the handle, each of our thumbs pressing over our hands and our palms mixed together as our wills wrapped around a knob for a door to eternal jubilant freedom. Everything couldn't hold me back anymore, everything that ruined me and everything that made me resistant to what I wanted to try and who I wanted to try to be with.

Spencer was staring at me, his expression blank and dumbfounded. Giggling, I turned the handle and opened the door.

The interior of the shack was nothing like the quaint outside. The spacious pastel yellow walls with wallpaper filled with artsy decor of foods and spatulas in deep magenta stripes filled my vision with windows that didn't remotely match up with the windows on the outside. In the center of the room was a table with a matching color scheme, a chair at each end that were all neatly scooted under it. There weren't any hallways leading to other rooms. It was only this one, adorable little room filled with kind pastel hues.

I wanted to ask him if this room was styled after my sleep state, but no words came out, much like the words he spoke. Spencer mouthed a chuckle, gripping my hand tightly as we suddenly began floating to each end of the table. As if we were on rails, we both seated ourselves automatically, getting comfortable despite my desire to get comfy by myself. Once the seats pushed themselves in, a plate of triangular sandwiches fell from the sky, enduring the fall from far above the ceiling and rattling upon impact with the table. It bounced, despite being made of porcelain, as the impact spot of the plate created a tablecloth that burst forth in a dazzling display of eloquent formality. The plate of sandwiches got comfortable as tiny plates with teacups fell in front of us, the porcelain bouncing excitedly as they nestled toward us. Spencer casually took a drink of the tea that fell from above, smirking at me.

I was never a fan of tea. It was either expensive, a single bottle, or tasted like a liquid rendition of a leaf. Sometimes, it'd taste better than water but most of the time, water was inexpensive when compared to the mighty tea. I've always imagined tea to be water for rich people or for those who are thrifty and hate the bland taste of water. I wasn't sure if I could even taste it in a dream anyways but despite that, I took a quick sip of it.

It tasted like tea. Leafy, but beyond exquisite in flavor and texture. In my mind, it was exactly how I expected it to be. The smile that grew on my face felt involuntary but I knew what it was from. Both the tea and seeing the joyful grin grow on Spencer's face cemented how genuine of a smile I made both to me and hopefully him too.

My eyes widened as the plate in the center split into two, a small plate with a sandwich sliding over to me while the other slid to Spencer. I blinked, looking up at him to see him mouth a boisterous laugh. He held the sandwich to his mouth and took a bite.

Up until now, I didn't realize that he brought me on a dinner date in a dream. All of this was a dinner date between two muted furries in their sleep state forms while they're sleeping and within the dream they're experiencing simultaneously. I would've laughed at that true idea, if I could've. The only thing that would come out would be nothing at all.

My hand wrapped around the sandwich in front of me, inspecting the ingredients I could see between the pieces of bread. It had leaves of lettuce, wavy ham slices, yellow mustard, and a square slice of cheese. Compared to the dull peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I've been exclusively eating from my house, it was like seeing a mini club sandwich full of foreign flavors and surprising tastes one could only imagine before trying it oneself and being shocked at its splendor. I immediately took a bite, a single, enormous piece ripped right from the wheat's clutches and, just as I imagined, it tasted better than any millimeter's worth of peanut butter or jelly or both. Each part of the sandwich neatly sifted into my mouth, the texture clean and immaculate. I'm not even sure if I'm being messy. Spencer's expression makes me think he's enjoying his time just by watching me eat. Is he purposely giving me amazing food?

His eyes glanced to the center of the table and then back to me. Another smirk extended across his face, each corner tapping each of his cheeks. He snapped his fingers, though the sound wasn't audible. The table straightened into a rectangle and immediately began shrinking. Our chairs were pushed in alongside the movements of the table as if a ghost were moving our chairs. I frantically glanced around me, attempting to make sense of what's happening around me as the walls became blank and the windows evaporated into a white void. It was just us, at arm's length from one another as the table stopped its movements as it became a small, square-shaped table.

Spencer's left hand outstretched to snatch one of mine, my middle set's right hand. He attempted to speak again, a fruitless endeavor. With a silent pout, he produced a piece of paper out of thin air in front of him, placed in the perfect center of the table. Quickly, he withdrew his hand from mine, which made me blink. Even in a dream, his hand felt wonderful to hold. In his left hand, a number two pencil emerged right into his hand and he swiftly began writing on the paper. After only a few seconds, he turned the paper around so I could read what he wrote.

"Are you enjoying the date?"

His handwriting was beautiful. Mine could be equated to "Every boy has squiggly writing..." as one of my middle school teachers would say. Even when I wrote in cursive, it appeared like it was from an entirely different universe that the human race doesn't come from. Spencer's handwriting was beyond gorgeous. It was just as I'd imagine a rich kid to write, even though he might be just a bit more rich than me.

My uppermost right hand was poked by the butt end of a pencil. I glanced up at Spencer's eyes that were trained on me. They peered at the words on the sheet and then back up at mine. Laughing out an inaudible chuckle, I took the pencil from his grasp and began writing a hastily written response.

"Of course I am!"

When I finished, I set the pencil down beside the paper and turned it around so that he could see. Spencer smiled upon reading, laughing silently as he grabbed the pencil, writing something under my written reply. I'm not sure if he was laughing at my horrific penmanship or if he was laughing in joy.

I was staring at his writing. He was going at a far slower speed than before, as if he was putting thought behind each letter. His eyes sometimes glanced up at mine and he'd mouth another silenced laugh. After the first few glances, Spencer tapped the center of the table which magically produced a small hand mirror. Curious, I held the mirror up to my face, examining myself within the glass.

There was a chalk galaxy drawn across each of my slightly red eyes made of pastel blues, teals, lavenders, and yellows that enveloped the entirety of my eyes with chalky stars, expansive blue planets with teal rings, and lavender asteroids that rocketed around the spotted gas bodies made of dazzling, spinning beauty. My eyes were drawn to his. His eyes were smiling.

Spencer turned the paper again to face me. The text took up most of the bottom of the page though his handwriting was still pristine.

"Do you want to do anything else? I'm kind of running out of ideas on what to do so help would be really appreciated."

There was a small footnote hastily scribbled in wonky penmanship below the text, reading,

"You look super cute in a dream"

Now I was the only laughing laughs that could not be heard in the blank void of the dreamscape.

I quickly began writing a response on the back of the paper, swiftly flipping it over to do so. Though my writing would likely be illegible if I were to write so rapidly, I wasn't thinking of how digestible my words would be. As long as he can get the gist, I think it'll be fine. I can rewrite my words a thousand more times for him, if he needs it. By now, I'm beyond caring about what he thinks of me. This place is safe. It's a safe place hidden within a dream of another, a person who doesn't hide from me due to a facade created by a thief that proclaimed me to be the villain.

I turned the paper around for Spencer to read, glancing to the mirror that I laid my pencil beside. My eyes were still glistening with otherworldly stars that dazzled as if I was staring at the night sky. I glanced to Spencer and then to what I wrote for him.

"I think I just want to get to know you more."

He held his chin with a pinch of two fingers, studying the text as if he were reading an undiscovered novel. His hand quickly reached for the pencil and began his sluggish, slow writing, though at this point, I didn't mind. It felt like we had all the time in the world when residing within a dream. Spencer would still glance at the mirror and then at my face, his sweet smile still present on his lips. I studied how he wrote, each stroke, and each time he would stop dead in his tracks to stare blankly at the words, as if even in dreams he couldn't piece together just what he wanted to tell me. When he finished, it surprised me. It didn't seem like he would stop. Still, Spencer turned the paper around for me to feast my multiple eyes upon.

"We can do that ... when we wake up. What if we did ... something?

Not nothing. Don't say nothing..."

With one last silent giggle, I wrote one, quick response back.

"Then let's do everything."

When Spencer's eyes laid upon my written response, I hadn't even shown him yet and his smile evolved into a pure beaming grin. The table we both sat at disintegrated. It didn't exist anymore. It must not matter anymore. Our chairs scooted together until our knees touched. Then, the chairs were no more. We were sitting on nothing but I wasn't afraid. He wasn't afraid so I had no reason to be either.

Spencer stood up. He stood on nothing but a white void. As he walked toward me, grass without color tussled and rustled against his sleep state's feet but that didn't make him stop. His fast left hand pulled my upper rightmost hand upwards so that I stood alongside with.

Spencer pulled me into an embrace.

The world formed around us, a realm of grass moist with chalk, blue stars and trees that were lined with glowing yellow sap seeping from the bark's chipped lines. Each green was a beautiful lavender resting under the soft turquoise sky that hung above us all with yellow clouds that seemed to swirl and dance with one another. Mountains were drawn against a backdrop far from our existence, much like everything else. There were no buildings, trailer houses, jails, restaurants, tyrants, villains, and everything that once hurt me from close and far, far away. It was just a vibrant, foreign world made of chalk with Spencer, me, and a kingdom that towered above us all, casting a shadow that I didn't really care about. In this world, it wasn't a monarch's castle that suppressed all those who dare think in a way that crosses their beliefs. This was Spencer's world. This was our world now. His tight hug secured that fact and I clung to him, much like that belief, the belief that we only coexist here.

It's because it's true. We only live here.

I love that that's true. I love that there aren't any lies or fears hidden behind curtains. Spencer was genuine. Everything was genuine. He was everything. I believe that now, I am his everything. After all, he wouldn't be my everything if I wasn't his everything. So we were everything now. Everything was this world only found in dreams, this fantastical world, and I adored it.

Spencer broke the hug, his hands propped up on my shoulders with eyes still focused on mine. He mouthed something again but I could tell what he was saying. It was "I think I love you."

And I think I do too.

The world faded to black. Everything that made me happy was gone in an instant. A growing worry sank into my heart, causing it to bleed, melt, and fall apart. I screamed, crying out to cling to that something but someone was there to cling to.

I opened my eyes.

I woke up.