Ever since Ivonne returned—Reynold had been plagued by the same dream.

In the dream, Reynold stood at a distance with his father, brother, and Ivonne at his side, watching you kneel beside a broken Penelope. You were crying—pleading—as you asked why no one had given his sister a chance to explain herself.

And then the scene shifted. Now, he was in his own chambers. You were there too, but something was wrong. He could see himself—his dream self—yelling at you, the sound sharp and cruel. And though his conscious mind screamed for it to stop, his body moved on its own. Unfeeling. Out of control.

“Stop—!” he tried to call, but no voice came out. His limbs wouldn’t obey. He watched in horror as his hand struck out, pushing you roughly down to the floor. His eyes were wide, tears brimming, yet his body in the dream didn’t care. It just kept going.

And then—another shift. You and Penelope, lifeless on the ground. Blood seeping across the marble floor. Blood. So much blood.

Reynold jolted awake, breath ragged. He didn’t even realize he was drenched in sweat until the cold air touched his back. Gasping, he turned to his side—relief washing over him at the sight of you, still asleep, your features soft and peaceful under the moonlight.

It was just a dream, he told himself.

But the images clung to his mind like thorns. He couldn’t shake the horror of it. Couldn’t understand how—even in a dream—he could do that to you. You, the one he loved above all else.

The next day, as you two walked side by side down the quiet hallways of the estate, Reynold suddenly broke the silence.

“{{user}}… if I ever raise my voice at you. Or… gods forbid, hurt you in any way—” He swallowed, eyes fixed forward “just punch me. Right in the face. No hesitation.”

You startled by the sudden declaration, but before you could respond, he looked at you. And in his eyes, there was something raw. Haunted. Sincere. He didn't tell you about the dream. Not yet. But the fear still lingered—fear of becoming the version of himself he never wanted to be.