When you come across your boyfriend while floating aimlessly through the bubble, he's hovering horizontal in midair, lightly snoring and with his "sicknasty shades" askew. You, with your ASTOUNDING pranksters gambit, begin planning a rediculously clever prank to pull on your him immediately.
You watch him sleep, a thoughful grin on your face as you twirl the end of your hood around your pianist's fingers. It's only moments before it hits you (you ARE the king of pranks, after all!); the perfect prank!
He grumbles in his sleep and bobs in the air while you silently rifle through your sylladex, pulling out an old can of Barbasol and chuckling as you shake it. A note is curled up on the inside of the lid when you pop it off, and you pull it out curiously, unraveling the white paper and looking at the black script.
"If you are reading this, you have gotten old enough to shave. I am so proud of you, son."
You blink your white eyes at the paper, shaking your head and smiling grimly. You miss your Dad. He would be proud of you for what you're about to do, though. Your pranksters gambit is about to go through the roof!
You carefully grab one of the hands draped across Dave's chest and turn it upward, spraying shaving cream into it. He doesn't wake, only mumbles something and shifts.
You captchalogue the shaving cream and grab the blue fabric of your hood, taking the end between two fingers and carefully flying forward so your face and hand are right beside his head. You fight giggles, lowering your hand carefully near his cheek. You wait a moment, listening to a particularly loud snore before tickling his cheek with the bright blue fabric of his scarf.
The response is instantaneous, though not what you were expecting; instead of coming up to meet his cheek, Dave's hand collides with yours, pulling your face to his and kissing you gently.
You're too shocked to kiss him back, your jaw dropping so low you're surprised it doesn't hit the wooden deck below you!
He pulls away a second later, a small but genuine smile on his face. You reach up and wipe the shaving cream off of your face with the back of your hand dumbly, just staring at him.
"Nice try, Egderp." he says, amusement plain in his voice. "You can't prank a Strider. Man, you should know that by now."
"You.. were awake the whole time?"
"Nawh, man. As soon as you started doing that stupid fucking oh-I'm-gonna-prank-Dave-so-hard-but-he-can-hear-me-so-I'll-snicker-instead-of-guffaw thing, I was up. You can hear that shit from a mile away." he smiles a little more, reaching up to cup your face again. You'll have to try harder next time, you think as he leans in to kiss you again.
A few moments later, you start to feel heat on your body, like sunlight only super-concentrated. Your eyes are closed, so you don't see the flashing lights coming towards you. Your senses are all Dave, so you don't hear Lord English landing on the rock not all too far away.
You don't feel anything except Dave.
You'll have to try harder next time, you're thinking.
You'll be able to prank him sometime, you're thinking. You'll have forever on this bubble to get him.
You're so caught up in Dave, Dave, Dave, that you don't even know to scream before you're destroyed.