Go on a date with her, make her blush!

Wait… Wrong genre…

But hey, it still works, right?

Adele, her mind buzzing with a mix of amusement and apprehension, reached Sharon’s side. She had finally figured out why Sharon had betrayed Dorothy in the later chapters of the novel, why she had nearly killed her.

The seeds of that betrayal, that act of desperate defiance, had been sown… in these dreams.

Sharon wasn’t Adele’s original roommate, but she had taken her place, had become a constant presence in Adele’s life, a shadow lurking in the background.

And every night, every naptime, she had immersed herself in these dreams, in these carefully constructed illusions, these… dates, where she could be with Adele, where she could experience a connection that was… impossible in the real world.

While Adele had been navigating the main storyline during the day, interacting with the other antagonists, Sharon had been quietly rewriting the script in her dreams, creating a parallel narrative, a secret love story that only she… remembered.

It was a hidden plotline, a clandestine romance that existed only within the realm of slumber.

Adele, of course, had no recollection of these dreams. And even if she did, it was the dream version of Adele, the one whose subconscious had been manipulated by Sharon, who had fallen for her.

The real Adele barely even acknowledged Sharon’s existence, her impression of her limited to… Dorothy’s lackey. And… someone who was surprisingly kind to her.

She didn’t dislike Sharon, but she certainly didn’t… like her either.

But Adele hadn’t entered the dream. Sharon, the Dream Eater, the master of this realm… she had entered Adele’s dream, and she had refused to leave.

She had fallen in love with the dream version of Adele, had poured her heart and soul into this… illusion, this carefully constructed fantasy, where she could be with Adele, where she could be… loved.

She had made Adele her everything.

But her love… it was a double-edged sword. It had consumed her, blinded her to the truth, to the fragile nature of… dreams.

She had clung to this illusion, had fought to protect it… even when it meant betraying Dorothy, her friend, her protector, the one who had given her a place in this world.

She had nearly killed Dorothy, all for… a dream.

And what had it gotten her?

Nothing.

Her love, her memories… they were all… fake.

The real Adele had no idea, no understanding, of the sacrifices Sharon had made, the pain she had endured.

She didn’t love her.

Sharon had smiled, a sad, wistful smile, and retreated into her dreams, sealing herself away from the harsh realities of the world, seeking solace in a realm where… she could be with Adele.

—”It was the gentlest dream she had ever experienced in her nightmare-filled life. She could finally… sleep peacefully.”

That was Sharon’s ending. A bittersweet resolution to a tragic tale.

………………

It was a beautiful, heartbreaking story. But all Adele could think about was…

How could the author forget to include this in the novel?

Such a crucial plot point, such a significant character arc… it had been completely omitted, leaving Adele to stumble upon the truth through this… unintentional dream encounter.

She hadn’t even realized that her elusive roommate was… Sharon.

Sharon’s gaze, as Adele approached, was fixed on her, her eyes tracing the delicate contours of Adele’s face, her lips curving into a soft, adoring smile. And as Adele reached her side, Sharon, without hesitation, reached out, her fingers intertwining with Adele’s, their touch lingering, their warmth a silent expression of… love?

Adele’s heart skipped a beat, but her body, responding to the dream’s script, the implanted memories, the carefully constructed illusion, offered no resistance.

She understood. In this dream, she was Sharon’s girlfriend. Or… whatever Sharon wanted her to be.

If Sharon had a… unique kink, she could probably even convince Adele’s subconscious that she was… her mother. And Adele, believing it to be true, would call her… “Mommy.”

Because dreams were ruled by the subconscious, by instinct, by… suggestion.

Besides, when she woke up, she wouldn’t remember any of this. At least, the original Adele hadn’t.

Whether this Adele would retain any memories… well, that remained to be seen.

But Sharon… she was just a lonely, insecure girl, craving affection, connection, a love that… eluded her in the real world.

She wanted to play house, to pretend to be in love, to dress up, to… be beautiful.

She had applied makeup, had donned the most beautiful dress she had ever seen – a dress that actually belonged to Dorothy, a dress she had worn to a vampire gala – and had waited patiently in the garden, her heart filled with a shy anticipation, like a young girl waiting for her… prince charming.

Adele, her gaze softening, her lips curving into a gentle smile, leaned in, her lips brushing against Sharon’s forehead, a chaste kiss that made Sharon’s eyes flutter closed, her breath catching in her throat.

It was a gesture of affection, a reward for good behavior. And it was… allowed. Because they were… lovers.

Sharon, her voice a dreamy whisper, her heart overflowing with a joy that was both exhilarating and… terrifying, murmured, “…Adele.”

It was the first time Adele had kissed her, even if it was just a kiss on the forehead. It was a moment to be cherished, to be… hoarded.

Adele, her lips lingering for a moment, then pulling away, looked at Sharon, her eyes shining with a manufactured affection, a carefully constructed illusion of… love.

“I want to… go to your house, Sharon,” she said, her voice soft and persuasive. “We’ve known each other for so long, but… you’ve never invited me over.”

Sharon’s eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing her face.

“To… to my house?”

Adele nodded, her expression innocent, her intentions… hidden.

She wanted to learn more about Sharon, about her past, her present, her… secrets.

Shadows flickered at the edges of her vision, wispy figures that resembled… ghosts? Lost souls?

They drifted past, their voices a jumbled murmur, their words indistinct, their forms… intangible.

They were memories, fragments of Sharon’s past, of Adele’s past, woven into the fabric of the dream. The scenery wasn’t random, but a reflection of their experiences, their shared history.

If Sharon were to take Adele to the rooftop, they might encounter Dorothy. If they went to the infirmary, they would surely run into Celeste.

But Adele didn’t want to reveal her own memories, her own past. She wanted to see… Sharon’s world. Her memories. Her secrets.

“Is that… not allowed?” Adele asked, her voice taking on a wistful tone, her expression a carefully crafted mask of disappointment.

Sharon, flustered, waved her hands, her cheeks flushing.

“N-No… It’s not that… If that’s what you want, Adele…”

Her voice softened, her gaze meeting Adele’s, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and… something else. Something that made her want to… hide.

“Alright,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ll take you there.”

She understood. She couldn’t refuse Adele. Not when she had asked so sweetly, so… innocently.

Besides… as lovers, they both knew what this meant.