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Summary
Will found himself paused in front of the bedroom door, his index finger circling around the silver sphere. Biting his lip, he let himself turn the handle, not wanting to get caught up while he was in the middle of something this important.
Everything was so much more intense once he walked in, the wonderfully overwhelming nature of it all completely distracting him from his earlier sadness. It all smelt like him… him and that chemical flowery scent of Sarah’s perfume. He could easily live without the latter. His eyes flowed around the messy, barely decorated room. Looking over the cd’s piled on his desk, the guitar laying in the middle of the room, the occasional sock or shoe randomly scattered. Then, oh then, his breath caught in his throat once his eyes fell to the bed, fell to him.
Wilbur.
Series
- Part 6 of sootcest fics