Chapter Text
If you had to be honest, you despised the holidays. It was always stressful, no matter how prepared you tried to be. But regardless, being in your final year of Uni, it was pretty nice to get a final winter break before graduation. The idea of staying with your parents wasn’t ideal. They’d spent years neglecting you and taking a toll on you emotionally, but in the time you’d been gone, it had seemed like things had improved. You agreed to go home for the holidays under this idea, hoping to have a nice break from everything, despite the heavy feeling in your chest that came from being in your hometown – that you’d proudly left behind – and the general dread of the holidays.
Wilbur wasn’t exactly the opposite. While he didn’t mind the holidays themselves, he hated the social conventions of it all. Particularly the insistence that you must be with family or else the holiday isn’t worth anything. However, Wilbur seemed to luck out this year. His mother and stepfather happened to book a cruise for the holidays, and all they wanted from him was to watch the house while they were gone. It gave him both the convention of helping out family without dealing with the mental decline that he gets from actually being around them, mostly his stepfather. So, he’d spend a month in his old bedroom, in the town he dreaded because the number of good memories he’d had all involved one person that left not long before he did.
When you’d finally arrived, it wasn’t long before your parents were hugging you and peppering kisses on your face, talking about how much they’d missed you, and asking if you were eating alright. It was loving, and you did appreciate it, but you felt uneasy. As your mother hugged you, it felt unfulfilling as you looked around the room, each familiar surrounding bringing up memories of your mother’s yelling. You’d settled down fairly easily, which tended to be a perk of returning to your childhood bedroom. After changing into something much more comfortable, you’d returned to where it seemed your family members had accumulated.
“Y/n, darling, my goodness, you’ve grown so much since I’ve last seen you! What are they feeding you out there in London?” It was your aunt who spoke to you. She was tame enough, save for when she got her hands on enough cosmopolitans to feel the need to share everyone’s gossip.
“It’s nice to see you too. And I cook for myself, in case you were wondering.” You deadpanned. Honestly, you just didn't feel like humoring her advances to pull information out of you. You’d fallen for them as a kid, but now, even with little to hide, you couldn’t quite trust her.
“Of course, you are, my genius. How’s the dating scene been?”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname, brushing it off, “Boring as ever.”
She hummed, taking a sip of her drink. Ah, looks like she may already be ready to gossip, you thought, noticing the soft flush on her cheeks consistent with her drunkness. Your suspicions were confirmed when she continued, “You know, your mum told me she saw that old fling of yours at the shops the other day. What was his name?” She hummed for a moment, “Wilbur! That’s what it is.”
Your chest turned to stone in a matter of seconds, and you forced out a response, “Oh, cool.”
It was not “oh, cool” however, it was very much not cool. You and Wilbur had been friends since the third form, and while you weren’t incredibly close at first, you became much closer as time went on and as social circles grew smaller and smaller. It came to the point where you two were inseparable, the best friend you’d had even until now. Your “fling” couldn't even really be classified as such. Despite how much you loved Wilbur Soot, you and him just never seemed to break that barrier, save for one weekend in your final year of A-lev. You’d planned to go to prom together, neither of you being romantically involved with anyone else, but you never actually made it to prom. You both went and sat in a field outside the back of the school, sharing a bottle of vodka he’d lifted from his stepdad’s stash. It was then that he’d opened up to you about how embarrassed he felt to be leaving school without having ever kissed a girl before. The mixture of his vodka and your love for him ultimately amounted to a few sloppy kisses, a moment’s worth of making out, before the two of you both had to run from a counselor who was looking for any delinquent students. Neither of you ever addressed it again.
The years you two had known each other eventually culminated in the same relationship that you had with most people these days: you leaving him and losing contact. You didn’t mean to leave him behind, but between a full scholarship in London and his insistence on how shitty London is, you had to leave.
You thought about him frequently. There were numerous nights where you’d open up his contact and attempt to draft a message, but it always ended in watching the cursor blink as you struggled to find the words. Honestly, you never thought you’d see him again. You knew nothing about him anymore, what he was like, what he was doing. It was impossible to decide if you dreaded seeing him or would go out of your way to attempt to see him.
After catching up with your family for a bit longer, you decided to step out. Honestly, you didn’t know where you were going. It was late, almost midnight, and you just needed the fresh air. After walking into town, you found the one thing that would realistically be open this time of night: the pub. It was mostly empty, save for a few older folks sitting in some booths around the wall. You recognized the bartender, he was a few years above you back in school, but he always made an effort to be kind to everyone. He grinned at you once you sat at the bar.
“Well, if it isn’t Y/n L/n. Shit, I would’ve thought you died," he chuckled, "You visiting for the holidays?”
“Yep. And trust me, I’d quite rather be dead than be around my whole family all day.”
He laughed, “Let me guess, a martini for the sophisticated Londoner?”
You laughed back, “God, no, I haven’t exactly been converted over yet. Just a pint.”
“Still the same as before?”
“Mmhm,” you nodded out, sighing softly. Being here felt a lot less tense than being at home. At least here you didn’t have to deal with the hushed fights and curses whispered between spouses.
Wilbur had been incredibly excited by the idea of being alone when he first arrived at his old house a week before. It wasn’t long before it got old.
“Alright, chat, who should we raid?”
His chat moved rapidly in response to his words. He’d been playing Minecraft with Tommy, not unlike usual, but he’d been live for an hour and a half, which was a long time to hold up a persona for. Once he’d ended, he stayed on call with Tommy through Discord.
“I dunno, man. I like being alone, like having the place to myself, but I’ve never felt so lonely,” Wilbur paused, “This place is way bigger than I remember.”
“So go somewhere,” Tommy offered.
Wilbur groaned, “You do understand that there is nothing to do here. It’s part of the reason I settled on Brighton.”
“Oh, c’mon, there’s gotta be something there for you to do. Don’t you have at least, like, a park or a pub maybe? You could go meet women!”
“Tommy, I know every woman in this town, nobody has moved here or left here since I left,” he sighed, “we do have a pub though. Honestly, that’s not a bad idea. I could go for a drink.”
“See! Just gotta think outside the box. Have a little optimism, man. Maybe you’ll see that person you knew in school.”
“Tommy, don’t.” Wilbur genuinely considered leaving the call, his heart sinking at the mention of his old friend, “They haven’t been back since they left, alright?”
“Yeah, but you never know! Have you thought about what you’d say to them if you did see them?”
“No,” he groaned, “I don’t know why I’m humoring this, but if I saw them, I’d probably be nice. As much as it hurts, I miss them, and it’s not like I reached out much either, so.”
Tommy hummed, “Wilbur the Wise, you are. At least maybe if you do see them, you’ll be much less bored.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Wilbur sighed, pulling an old beanie on. “Alright, I’m going to head out, talk to you later, man.”
“Have fun!”
Wilbur hung up the call after a moment, sighing a bit as he stretched. While he didn’t actually want to go to the pub, it was a better idea than staying in another night. Plus, at least he could get to walk his old path and try and see some of the cats he always used to stop for.
His walk did end up taking quite a while. He only spotted two cats on the way, but he’d given them as much attention and love as they’d allow. But that wasn’t really what took up so much of his time. He kept going back to what Tommy had asked. Honestly, he did not even consider he’d see you here. For a long time after you’d left for school, he thought that one day he’d see you walking to the shops and he’d go up to you, and just by saying hello, everything would feel like it used to. After a while, he’d lost hope that he’d ever see you again. He’d tried to find you online, some scrap to see how you had been and to see if you were okay, but he knew he couldn’t exactly just follow you without the risk of questions. He cursed himself for a long while over his pettiness in never reaching out. He thought about that prom night often. Part of him couldn’t make peace with the idea that his best friend, someone who he’d fallen in love with the second they’d spoken to him, was now just a stranger to him. It didn’t make sense to him, but what made even less sense was when Wilbur opened the door to the pub to find you sitting alone at the bar.
Wilbur’s breathing went full stop when he saw you. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but whether that was from the cold or the shock he felt seeing you, he couldn’t tell. Once he could feel his body again, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He’d have to make a choice right now, and he’d have to make one he wouldn’t eventually regret, but-
“Wilbur! Mate, close the door, would you, you’re lettin' in a draft!”
You felt frozen in your seat when you heard the bartender– whose name, you were kindly reminded, was Liam– yell to Wilbur. You didn’t know if you wanted to look up at him or look anywhere but him. Eventually, curiosity got the best of you, and you looked up directly into his eyes as he stood in the doorway. He seemed to come back to life after a second, turning to walk towards the bar.
“Uh, right, sorry, man. Could I get a pint?”
He sat across the corner of the bar, close but still seemingly holding you at a distance.
After Liam walked away, he turned back to you, and for a moment, you both stared, trying to find words. He’d grown quite fit since the last time you’d seen him. He was still tall, but not quite as lanky. His shoulders have filled out nicely.
You decided to start, stuttering a bit as you began, “Hi, Wilbur.”
He seemed to think for a moment before the look faded from his face and something kinder replaced it, “Hi.”
“How- um,” you contemplated even asking, but you’d rather ask than be sitting here in awkward silence with the boy you’ve loved for years, “How have you been?”
“I’ve been…” He took in a breath, a moment to compose himself, before responding, “I’ve been good, actually. How about you?”
You considered lying. “I’m okay, could be better but…”
“But?”
“Well, I’m still doing the whole uni thing, so still just living in London. Not many developments.”
“Right. How is London?”
You thought back to your apartment. Your shitty apartment and your three roommates who you never spoke to, the leaks in the ceilings, the constant noise, the crowds, the grey fogs that would weigh down on your lungs, the deaths on the tube, the harassment just from walking to campus, everything. “It sucks. The city is horrible,” you sighed, “The school is alright, though. The people are standoffish and don’t talk, but the education is good.”
Wilbur looked as though he was fighting off a smile, taking a sip from the beer he’d been given. “I’m sorry to hear that. Glad the school is good. It may not be my place exactly, but do you mind if I say something?”
Dread filled your chest. “Well, you have to now.”
A smile crossed his face, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “I told you so.”
A moment of processing passed before you burst into laughter. Of course, after all the years you knew Wilbur Soot, you probably could have predicted that would be the first thing he’d want to say to you.
“Okay, okay, I can admit. Maybe you were a little right. I’ve got my regrets, but despite the city, I don’t hate my choice,” you took a sip from your pint, “what about you? How’s life been?”
He shrugged a bit, “I’d say good. I did some schooling online and graduated a bit ago. Been doing some work, uh, online, so yeah. It’s been good.”
“Oh, that sounds cool. Anything I’d know?”
“Uh, maybe…” He went quiet for a moment before continuing, “I work for Twitch if you know that company.”
You shrugged, “I know of them. That’s cool though, I’m glad you found something you enjoy.”
He smiled a bit, “Yeah, it’s been nice. I’ve made quite a few friends.”
“Really?” That was a bit of a surprise, “Shy little Wilby is making work friends?”
He seemed to flush a bit, chuckling, “I’ve gotten better about the shyness.”
“That’s good. You seem to be doing better in that department than I have. I haven’t changed much at all, I think.”
He hummed, pondering. He stared for a moment, and you almost felt shy under his gaze. Finally, after what felt like ages, he spoke up, “You do your hair differently. You used to part it to the side.”
You laughed, surprised by the unexpected statement, instinctively reaching up to fix some stray hairs. It brought a blush up to your cheeks, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone had noticed such a small detail as that. You bit your lip for a moment before responding, “Yeah, I- I guess so. Though, to be fair, we kind of had the whole edginess thing going on back then. Had to look the part.”
“Very true,” He snorted a bit, “I still listen to the same music for the most part though.”
“Oh, let me guess. Favorite band is still Los Campesinos! ?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, “though I play a bit of my music now too.”
“Oh?” that was a major development. Wilbur spent a significant amount of time in school talking about how much he wanted to play music, always humming some tune to himself, “Will, that’s fantastic. You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“I could show you now, if you’d like. I’m just watching the house for my parents, so I brought some of my music equipment with me.”
You don’t know what made you so willing to say yes. Maybe it was the fact that you’d finished your pint. Maybe it was just the way that being here and talking to Wilbur made the heaviness in your chest finally lighten up since you first realized you’d have to go home. Either way, before you knew it, you and Wilbur were walking back to his place, chatting lightly the whole way there.
“Wow, this place hasn’t changed.”
You took off your coat as you and Wilbur entered his front door.
“My parent’s haven’t made much of an effort to change things. They think the nineties are still in.” He joked lightly as he locked the door behind you both.
You chuckled, “Yeah, I can see that.” You followed him up the stairs, “So, you said you were just watching the place for them. I take it you don’t live here anymore?”
“Nope, I’ve been living in Brighton, actually. I think you’d really like it. It’s still England, so it’s not great, but the ocean is gorgeous.”
“I’ve been meaning to go down there, actually. It’s only about an hour's train from me, so sometimes my roommates go down there for long weekends. I just haven’t had the time.”
He hummed, “Well, whenever you do have the time, let me know. I’ve got a pretty nice spare room. Plus, I could introduce you to my mates.”
You smiled softly, mostly to yourself, “Yeah. That would be nice.”
He sat down on his bed, reaching behind him and grabbing his guitar. You took a moment to look around the room. The same posters were still hung up, the dents in the wall from you and him goofing off and throwing things, even the scuffs on the floorboards from when you and him rearranged all his furniture. In the years of separation, you expected more of a difference. The only actual difference was that the room was cleaned for once. You hesitated before sitting next to him as you made your observations. He noticed.
“What’s up?”
I shrugged, “It’s weird. Being back here, I mean. I haven’t sat here since A-levels.”
He nodded, thinking it over for a moment. “Yeah. It is a bit weird. Doesn’t it kind of seem like nothing’s changed though?” He chuckled, “I mean, despite the time gap, you always did say being here made you feel safe.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “the feeling is still there. I just feel… weird. I’m used to missing you and all of our memories, but I’m not used to being here again after everything that has changed.”
He smiled slightly, “you missed me?”
I chuckled, “Obviously, man. I missed you every day. Missed having a best friend to bully.”
He snorted, “Hey, all of our bullying was friendly. Unlike some of the other wankers at our school.”
You laughed, throwing your head back, “Oh god, yeah. Bloody hell, man, I feel bad for their kids. Marshall’s going into medicine, and my god, I pray I never end up as his patient. I feel like his negligence alone would kill me.”
Wilbur laughed, leaning into you a bit. “God, that is not a man who should have a medical license,” he sighed softly. “Don’t fret, though. I missed you a lot too. I missed having someone yell at me to go outside or cut my hair.”
You laughed, “Yeah, my yelling comes from a good place, though.”
He hummed, “True. It did help me not go stir-crazy for a while there.” He paused for a moment, turning towards you slightly. “Wait, if you missed me, then… why didn’t you ever call?”
You took a deep breath, sighing softly. “Honestly, at first… I thought you might be mad at me for leaving. We did kind of have a whole argument about it, and I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me. And then, once some time had passed, I considered it. I considered looking you up and trying to talk to you, or even just texting you, but I just felt like it might’ve been weird for me to just text you out of the blue. I didn’t want you to think I was just contacting you because I needed something or something stupid like that. I got busy, and more time passed, and reaching out just felt weirder and weirder each time I considered it.”
He nodded softly. He didn’t make eye contact as he listened and thought. “If I’m being honest as well, I didn’t want to hear from you at first. I was pretty upset. But after a while, I just missed my best friend. And I was going to text you, but I thought you’d be upset with how we left things. I wanted you to reach out because if I had hurt you, I couldn’t handle reaching out only to get anger, or even worse, just silence,” He sighed, “but if I knew you were thinking the same, I would have dedicated as much effort as I have to keep you in my life.”
You flushed a bit, “I would have too.” You made eye contact with him and everything felt warm for a moment, as if his gaze was sunlight peering through dark clouds.
“Now that I know, though,” he started, “I am going to annoy the fuck out of you.”
You laughed loudly at that, grinning up at him, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ve got a few years to make up for after all.”
He grinned softly, looking down for a moment. He pulled his guitar up a bit, smiling, “Well, now that that’s settled. Let me play you something.”
Wilbur’s music was beautiful. He played for an hour before he decided to stop, something about not wanting to play anything he hadn’t quite finished yet.
“Always the perfectionist, you are,” you commented as he placed his guitar down.
“Not always, I’ve gotten better about it. But I want to impress you mostly.”
“Really?” He sat back down on the bed next to you, “You wanted to impress me?”
He nodded, humming out a soft ‘mmhm’.
“If I knew we were trying to impress each other, I would’ve made my life sound much cooler.”
“Oh, really, how so?”
“I dunno, would’ve made it sound like I have some millionaire boyfriend who takes me to Spain for a casual date.”
He hesitated, his teeth taking his bottom lip in thought. “Do you have one?”
“A millionaire boyfriend?” You laughed out, “No, Wilbur, I d-“
“No, I just meant like, a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” You frowned a bit, “No. I don’t. Haven’t exactly gotten to know many people there. Plus, all the men are quite shit.”
He nodded, “Just like everything else in London?”
“Pretty much,” You chuckled softly, “What about you though? A handsome guy like you in Brighton, I’m sure you’ve gotten yourself, someone, by now.”
He shrugged, “Tried it out for a while, but I just didn’t have much luck.” He stopped as he processed your response in full, “Hold on, handsome? You think I’m handsome?” He teased.
You lightly blushed, rolling your eyes, “Obviously, man. You’ve always been quite fit. Especially with that haircut rather than that straight line cut you used to have.”
He laughed, “God, that was horrendous. Well, wait, how about now,” he took his hands and pushed his hair back, revealing his forehead.
You burst out laughing, “Somehow, yes, even if your forehead takes up half your face.”
He laughed, moving his hands and shaking his head to get his hair to fall back into place. “I can safely say, I find myself quite flattered. Especially coming from an incredibly pretty person such as yourself.”
You flushed a soft pink, “You think?”
“No, I don’t think, I just know facts.”
You blushed darker, chuckling. “Well, thanks.” You lightly nudged him with your side.
He repeated the action, albeit slightly harder. You two did this for a moment, each going slightly harder until he’d accidentally gone a bit too hard, knocking both of you down.
You both laughed, him laying his head against your side for a moment, before pulling himself up and holding himself up by his arm above you.
“You’re still as goofy, Mr. Soot.”
“Only with you.”
“Oh?”
“Actually, no. But this kind of goofy, yes.”
“And what kind is that?”
He just stared down at you for a moment. You felt yourself flush a bit under his gaze, and you stared back up at him. The light from his room gave him a soft halo glow around his head that made him look completely angelic. You’d always thought him attractive, but fuck he was ethereal like this.
“The kind I do to make pretty people laugh.”
Your breath hitched, but you were quiet otherwise. You couldn’t remember a time when your best friend was ever so… bold . Maybe part of you was reading into the tension, but the most gorgeous man you’d ever know just called you pretty. That plus his position above you was enough to make your heartbeat faster. You wanted to kiss him. Something in you felt so strongly the urge to wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him. For some reason you couldn’t quite fathom, though, you didn’t.
“Well, feels nice being special, then.”
He laid down next to you, the both of you just staring at the ceiling for a few quiet moments as the tension diffused.
He turned to you. “I can’t tell if I still know almost everything about you or if I know nothing anymore.”
“I can’t tell either.” You turned back to him, sighing, “Honestly, you probably still know more about me than I do.”
“You think?”
You nodded.
He thought to himself, “Still play Minecraft?”
“God, no,” You laughed, “I wish. I just don’t have the time for anything like that. I’ve just been studying constantly.”
“Unfortunate. If you ever need a break from studying, we could always play together.” He hummed, “ They’ve added a lot of cool things to the game.”
“You still play?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I play a lot. It’s a fantastic narrative tool, in fact.”
“Oh, really?”
“If you have enough people willing to work out a story and act it out, it makes for a cool platform to tell stories.”
You smiled, despite it being only for Wilbur’s sake. Honestly, you were sad that you didn’t know what he was talking about.
“What’s up?”
“Hm?” You questioned softly.
“Something’s wrong. I still know one of your fake smiles when I see them.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, “no, it’s just… I missed you. I’m a bit bummed that I can’t see the cool stuff you’ve done since.”
“Well,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck, “actually, you can.”
You gave him a confused look as he continued.
“You know how I mentioned I worked for Twitch?” You nodded, “Well, when I say that, I mean that I stream, actually, so playing live for people and that includes all my stories.”
“Wilbur, that’s amazing.”
“I know,” he laughed, “I’m still shocked people are interested in what I write and create.”
“If they’re anything like your DnD campaigns, I’m not shocked at all.”
He laughed again, throwing his head back, “Oh, man, I loved making those as convoluted as possible though, you were the one who made the stories make sense. These are more streamlined since we have to deal with so many different schedules and coordinate stuff.”
“God, that sounds stressful. I can barely coordinate plans with one person.”
He shrugged, “It’s easier since streaming is all of our jobs. It’s more like assigning work shifts.”
You hummed, “That makes sense.”
“Yeah, I can send you some stuff from it. Though, be warned, without your aid, some pieces of lore are wildly convoluted.”
You chuckled, “I expect nothing less.”
You and Wilbur continued to talk for hours, just catching each other up on life and new habits, and every detail missed between the cracks of time you two were separated from each other. You couldn’t be sure when you or Will fell asleep, but you woke up feeling safer than you’d had in a long time. When you’d briefly woken up to the morning light coming through the blinds, and you noticed his lanky arm wrapped around you, you gently reached down and held his hand in yours before falling back into the kind arms of rest.
You woke up again about two hours later. You were facing him now, both of your legs wrapped between each other, and his arm was still lightly cupping your back. You opened your eyes to see him still sleeping, a soft and peaceful expression on his face. You gently reached a hand up to brush some of his hair away from his eyes. You were so busy staring at his soft features that you barely noticed his eyes open.
“Good morning to you too, then,” he spoke, his voice laced with sleep.
Your hand jumped back, a blush immediately rising to your cheeks, “Sorry.”
“‘s alright. Felt quite nice, actually.” He blinked the sleep out of his eyes after a moment, and he flushed himself, going to move his hand off your waist, “Oh, sorr-“
“No.” You stopped him, his arm halting midair, “It’s okay. It felt quite nice,” you said, mimicking his words from a moment ago.
He blushed, cautiously lowering his arm back onto your side.
“Did you sleep well?” He asked.
“Yeah. Your room feels more familiar than mine, honestly.”
He chuckled, his laughter slightly gruff from the early morning, “You probably spent more time here than at your own place, so I can’t say I’m shocked.”
You laughed, “Oh, almost definitely. What about you, did you sleep well?”
He smiled at you, nodding, “Best I’ve slept since I got here. I felt much less lonely.”
“I know what you mean. My room kind of just feels cold. Not temperature-wise, but just like,” you sighed, “you know what I mean.”
“Luckily, I do.” He smiled, “You’re welcome to stay here again, if you like.”
You hummed, “I might consider it. Though I would like to stop home to put on something clean.”
He nodded, “Right, of course, yeah. I actually have to stream today, too, so, if anything, just,” he trailed off, “text me around eight?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “That sounds good. I can bring some food from home too, given that I know you have probably just been eating takeout or, god forbid, have been trying to cook by yourself.”
“Hey, I’m much better at cooking than I used to be,” he laughed. “You’re right about the takeout, though.”
You snorted, “I know you well, Mr. Soot.”
He smiled fondly, “You sure do.”
The two of you just lay there quietly, basking in the early air and light. After a few minutes, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest quietly.
“Is everything alright?” He whispered.
You nodded against him, burying your face deeper against him while he wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt emotional all of a sudden as you held onto him: Your best friend, who you’d secretly loved for years. And now, you thought about what held you back in the past. The main thing you were afraid of was losing him, but in the end, that ended up happening anyway. Love confession or not, you lost him, and now, you were given another chance by whatever fateful creature may exist out there. And as insistent as you were to not lose this chance, your logic stopped you. This trip was just that: a trip. In two weeks, you’d be back to your place in London and he would be back in Brighton. But yet there was an ache in your chest, consistent with longing and want but entirely unattainable.
“Stop thinking so much,” he spoke softly, placing his chin on top of your head.
“Wilbur, you know that is entirely impossible for me.”
“Okay,” he trailed off, “then do you want to talk about it, so it can at least be out of your head?”
You did. You wanted to talk about it all, in its entirety, if only just to know if the ache present in your chest matched an ache in him. But you couldn’t. If that ache wasn’t present in him, who would you be to share it with him? The solution seemed to lie in half-truths.
“I’m just thinking about how I go home in two weeks and how much I’m dreading it. I don’t want to go back to schoolwork.”
He hummed, nodding, “It’s probably not helpful to say, but if you dwell on that the whole time you’re here, then it will come twice as fast. You’ve got to slow your brain down a bit. Try and just be in the moment.”
You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you.”
He chuckled, “Hey, my anxiety might take over sometimes, but it really does help to try and just focus on what’s happening, you know. You’re safe here,” he lightly kissed the top of your head, “so just focus on being here.”
You sighed, “I’ll try.” You shifted your focus to the soft sound of his heartbeat against your ear, the feeling of his arms wrapped around your back. Every detail was comprised of him.
You eventually did have to go home, after receiving a frantic call from your mum about how you “couldn’t just sneak off every time you got bored” which, granted, you disagreed with; you knew this town like the back of your hand, and you’re an adult so it’s not like she can dictate your every move. When you made it home, you went to your room to change and shower, but your thoughts immediately drifted back to Will. You never really noticed just how many minute details you had memorized, like the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the way he would tilt his head back when something that caught him off-guard made him really laugh. You thought about the way he would hiccup in between laughter so strong it made his ribs hurt. The sly smile he would give you when you made eye contact but neither of you had anything to say. Your thoughts were entirely consumed by him.
By the time it was dinner, you had done almost extensive research into Wilbur’s online persona. You watched as many videos as you could, some of his, some of them fan-made. It was a weird concept, your best friend having fans. You’d gone onto the online space briefly before backing away. You didn’t exactly want to intrude on fan debates given how much you knew about Wilbur really. It was odd watching him talk to his chat and everything. It was so different. He didn’t seem like the shy, almost moody, boy you knew. He was much more confident and comfortable. It did warm your heart to see him being so strong in himself. Your mind wonderer over this new information, how different he was from the person you knew, as you ate. You almost didn’t hear your mum speaking to you.
“Dear, are you listening?”
You brought yourself out of your thoughts, grimacing. She hated when you weren’t listening, “Oh, sorry. No, uhm, what’s up?”
She frowned, giving you a cold stare, “I asked if you’ve found any jobs lined up yet. For after graduation?”
You sighed, “Not yet, Mum.”
“Because my old work friend, Charles, he could use the extra folks there. They’re looking into expanding into America.” She never actually cared much about what you wanted to do, always trying to push you into the field she wanted you to pursue.
“I’ll be fine. I can find a job myself. And Charles doesn’t even work in the same field my degree is in.”
“Just trying to help,” she tutted, tucking her arms defensively in front of her. “What’s on your mind these days?”
You shrugged tensely, “School and work. I haven’t had time for much else.”
She cooed, almost mocking, “You really should be looking into a relationship, dearie. You don’t want all the good ones taken, right?”
“God, mum, stop that. I’m fine on my own.”
“But are you happy?” She laughed, as if taunting you.
“I resent the implication that I cannot be perfectly fine and happy on my own without the presence of another person to fulfill me.” You spat.
“I’m not saying that specifically, I’m just saying, you really ought to try harder. I’m sure most people don’t find your constant sweatpants that attractive.”
You groaned, standing. “I can’t be here for this anymore.”
She did this every year. Constantly reminding you of your own loneliness under the guise of being thoughtful and caring, rather than just understanding that you are your own person who’d rather be alone before feeling like someone’s personal doll.
You strode to the kitchen, filling a container with some leftovers for Wilbur as your mother tried helplessly to justify her own points. You waved her off, grabbing your bag before walking out the door.
You let out a sigh once you headed out. You walked to the end of the street and sat on the curb, pulling out your phone to text Wilbur. Once you got confirmation that you could come, you stood and walked the short distance to his place.
He opened the door, and you walked in casually.
“You look annoyed about something,” he noted.
“I would like you to take a wild guess,” you hummed, handing him the leftovers.
He murmured a quick ‘thank you’ before responding, “Your mum?”
“Still as bad as before, she is.”
He sighed, “At least you’ve got mine to hide out at. Want to watch a movie or something?”