My Dream Companion is Mr. Billionaire

d into at the club, pointed an accusing finger. His voice, a mixture of shock and disbelief, e

obscured by the same white fog that seemed to shroud my own face. The booming voic

d up inside me. "Huh," I mused aloud, "a truly un

ened his mouth to speak, but his words were cut short by a sudden crack of thunder. A blinding flash of lig

there are some forbidden rules here," Ash stated, his voice, a low baritone that sent a delicious shiver down my

and businesslike. I sighed, the frustration evident in my

nod of agreement. "Evene," I announced, extending

s. This time, however, the jolt was accompanied by a surge of euphoria that left

a warmth within me that clashed with the coldness that usually encas

rush overwhelming me. Ash seemed to realize his reaction

and regaining his composure with impressive sp

I pointed out, a hint of frustration creeping into my voice. Ash scanned the endless ex

whisper of the wind. After a moment, I sighed. "L

him steal glances at me, or at least, where my face should be. A small giggle escaped my l

ed, the thought bringing a smile to my fa

onous cycle. The lack of progress was starting to grate on my nerv

ctedly gentle. "But as long as we're to

ion I felt towards him? Despite the unusual circumstances, a flicker of hope ignited with

le to lift my spirits. Suddenly, a break in the monotony caught my eye. "Look!" I

white fog swirled around the object, revealing the outline of a simple wooden chair. A smal

sual stoicism. "Maybe getting to know each other would

st the thick fog, provided a soothing background melody. I closed my eyes, letting the soft breeze play with a l

esting question," I purred, a playful smile dancing on my lips. "Well, right now," I continued, allowing my mind to wander, "I'm absolut

ted response, the subtle hint that I was

are beautiful, but I think an emerald might suit you even better."

n't playing the usual game. "Oh," I stammered, a tou

The rich green of an emerald would complement your eyes

a genuine compliment had touched me, not one laced with ulterior motives. "Thank you," I whisper

cussing everything and nothing. He asked me about my life, but unlike the others, he wasn't interested in the ext

He described the way music made him feel, the emotions it evoked within him. His voice softened as he spoke of cap

elaxed, replaced by a sense of camaraderie. He wasn't the easiest person to crack, but the

d Eyes," I began, a playful glint in my eyes, "you seem to have a good eye for prec

ing question, Evene," he replied, his tone cool and collected. "However, I'm

ere isn't something in this bizarre dreamscape that catches your fancy. M

the only thing captivating about this pla

dream, can't she? Maybe there's a hidden treasure chest filled with emeralds just

plied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips for the briefest of moments before it vanished. "But something tells me the rea

girl can still dream of sparkling emeralds and the way they catch the ligh

le white void. "Perhaps," he conceded. "But wouldn't the thrill of th

t sounds intriguing. Are you suggesting we turn this whole situation into a game, As

ce. "A game implies there are rules," he finally said. "And in this place, devoid o

ilsport! We can make up our own rules as we go. Besides, wouldn't a littl

ession back into its usual stoicism. "Entertaining," he repeated, the word seemingly fo

can't have a little fun while we're at it? After all, who

felt like he was trying to see through the swirling fog that obscured m

game, then so be it. But let the record show that I fi

. "Illogical? Maybe," I admitted, wiping a tear from my eye.

of his lips suggested a grudging acceptance. With a

ground rules for this little game of ours. Rule number one: w

d, a hint of curiosity fl

whisper, "whoever figures out the first clue or discovers the first hi

ntriguing," he admitted. "And what would con

ortal. But maybe a little... refreshment wouldn't hurt. Like, imagine a table laden with the most exquisite

An interesting proposition, Evene. But wouldn't true satisfaction come

n't tell me you wouldn't enjoy a slice of your favor

lgence wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," he conceded. "Very w

ther. "Now, with the ground rules established, s

hint of amusement flickered in his gaze. "As

. Deciding to playfully push my luck, I brushed against him, the contact sending a delightful jolt – entirely unrelated to the d

ured most of our faces, a perfect excuse for playful intimacy

his... dreamscape seems rather devoid of escape routes," he r

e reason to work together, wouldn't you agree?" I brushed my fingers against his arm,

intensity of his stare made my breath hitch. "Perhaps," he conceded, his voic

circle on his arm. "Clues? Hidden doors? Maybe even a cr

humor but sending a thrill down my spine non

ging on a chaise longue. It was a man, impossibly handsome with flowing white hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wore a shimmering robe t

nd of amusement and theatricality. "Lost, are we? Or perhaps...

r masking any surprise he might hav

hough, service comes at a price, of course." He held out a hand, adorned with a massive ruby ring, and wig

attery. "Well, Zylor," I purred, stepping forward, "we find ourselves in a bit of a predicament. You see,

ing. "Ah, a predicament of love, perhaps? Or perha

ial curtain. "Maybe a little of both, Zylor. But wouldn't you ag

ling, you say? My dear Evene, you have a way with words! Very well, I'm intrigued. Tell me, wh

possessiveness. "Evene doesn't need to offer anything o

defend his damsel. Charming, but unnecessary, my dear Ash. This bargain is between Evene and me." H

w about this. We'll complete a task for you, something that requires a little... teamwork, shall we say? If we succeed, you grant us freedom from this dreamscape and

amusement. "A task, you say? And what kind of

aking a deep breath, I continued, "We don't know the specifics yet, Zylor. But trust me, it will requi

on? You humans are far more interesting than most of the dreams I weave. Very well, Evene. I accept

. "But remember, dreams can be fickle things. Success is never gua

deeper into the swirling fog. Ash remained by my side, his silence a stark

immered, solidifying into a chaise longue and its lounging occupant. The man, impossibly hands