Blue pupils shot open, they were surrounded in white. John Egbert stood up, exploring his empty surroundings…nothing.
It was just white.
Something at the back of the windy boys mind was telling him that he was dead…
Deciding to turn around and begin walking forward, John took a step forward, flooding the floor with a blue like colour as it spaced out, curling and winding through the floor and streaking upwards to overpower the white in a cloudy scenery.
Glancing down was grass…with a single young man standing there.
Feeling himself float down due to the floppiness of his trousers hitting his ankles, and his windsock hood fluttering above him, he landed in a nice spot of grass.
A smile crossed his chapped lips at how nice this felt, but looking up drained literally every feeling of that.
Feeling something appear-ify in his hands, his heart beat gained speed.
In front of him was Dave…His best bro…
Yet in some sense this Dave did not look right, he had something strapped to his head pushing his blonde hair back, his outfit was bright red with a matching white tie, cuffs and neck cuff. But the number one thing to mention was…that this Dave was not wearing shades.
His eyes could haunt John's memories for years, they had such depth to them a beautiful red that was surrounded by a hazy black blocking out all hope.
Dave was holding a katana, his freckled knuckles clutching that sharp thing like his life depended on it his mouth opening to speak three words John never wanted to hear come out from those lips.
"Fight Me, Hero"
John suddenly released what had appear-ified in his hands. His Warhammer.
He gulped, eyebrows burrowing down to try and throw a serious look to the Strider, his bottom lip was trembling as he took a step forward. The flowers rooted into the grass jingled a little with the boy's steps.
He swung the hammer over his shoulder, holding it like a golf club about to strike the ball…except in this circumstance it was his best friend.
The red-clothed Dave ran forward, Katana held upwards in a position to go for John's stomach.
And…
John dropped the hammer, it thudded behind him, He could hear the handle smack onto the grass…nothing scared him more than his best bro running full on at him with a sharp blade. He could see his frightened reflection glimmering in the sword… it terrified him.
The thought that Dave had the desire to hurt him broke him up a little inside.
Dave took a small leap, Katana held to the right as he took a swing. Shutting his eyes tightly, causing creases, the pain stopped.
Surprised, he opened his eyes.
"John? John!" a familiar voice filled his hearing range, his vision coming back in small droplets.
Currently he could see the outline of someone above him, the colour of the boy's face and hair soon coming into line.
"John!"
There it was again.
The colours flooded in and hit John like a speeding car.
Dave.
Dave Strider.
"Dave?" his voice squeaked out, triggering a coughing fit soon after.
"Shit"
He felt arms around his waist, filling him with warmth, he stiffened.
"W-Wha…?"
His senses flooded back to him in a matter of minutes, his pupils dilating in realization.
His arms flung around the other, pulling him in for a long embrace, that didn't last as long he the other hoped for.
Dave pulled back, his lips and eyebrows revealing the thought of worry.
"Dude I was so fucking worried about you…you kept writhing in your sleep and-"
John had rooted his hands in his hair, yanking him forward in a harsh manor, their lips touching and moulding together.
Your name is John Egbert.
And you could not be more happier to feel your best bros breath forming with yours…