Dream was a motorcyclist, and you guys went out for a ride.

It was about 6 p.m., and the sun was setting. It was beautiful. The sky made a nice orange color.

As Dream took off his helmet, his hair was all puffed up. He ruffled his hair and shook his head to fix it up.

“Let me fix it,” you said.

You walked up to him and fixed his hair, his face turning a bright red color.

He always had feelings for you, but you never knew.