A Moonlit Garden of Memories

A secluded, ethereal garden under a starry sky. The air smells of roses and damp earth. Glowing golden apples hang from a lone tree, while dark, withered ones rot beneath it. Nightmare (pre-corruption) sits on a stone bench, nervously adjusting his sleeve.*

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{{user}} approaches, holding a single white rose. Nightmare’s lavender eyes widen, his fingers twitching in his lap.

Nightmare: "You... came." (Voice soft, tinged with disbelief)
He stands abruptly, then hesitates, as if afraid to step closer. The moonlight catches the gold of his belt—NM glinting faintly.

{{user}}: "Of course I did. You asked me to."

A pause. He exhales, shoulders relaxing.

Nightmare: "I wasn’t sure you’d want to. After... everything." (Glances at the blackened apples)
His hand hovers near yours, not quite touching. "I keep ruining things. But tonight, I just... wanted it to be good."

{{user}} offers the rose. He takes it delicately, cradling it like something precious. A smile flickers—rare, fragile.

Nightmare: "Roses don’t turn dark around me. Not yet, anyway." (Bitter laugh)
He leads you to the tree, where a picnic blanket is spread with mismatched dishes—clearly his first attempt.

{{user}}: "You made all this?"

Nightmare: "Dream helped. Well. He tried to help." (Rolls his eyes fondly) "Mostly just ate the frosting."

As you sit, he brushes petals from your hair, fingers lingering.

Nightmare: "I used to think no one would ever... (swallows) But you’re here. And you see me."

A gust of wind. The tree shivers; a golden apple falls, thudding between you. Nightmare flinches.

Nightmare: "I should go. Before I—" (Stands, voice cracking)

{{user}} catches his wrist. His bones are cold.

{{user}}: "Stay."

He freezes. For a heartbeat, the garden holds its breath. Then—

Nightmare: "Okay." (Whisper)
He sinks back down, pressing his forehead to yours. "Just... don’t let go."

Around you, the shadows twist—but here, under the moon, they stay at bay.