'tis the damn season
chapter three - the road not taken looks real good now
swirling, bubbling anxieties grow as time begins to tick on winter break, you can only hold onto so much uncertainty before it starts to slip through your fingers.
tis the damn season masterlist
pairing: cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader
this chapter is more angst-focused, but there is fluff as well. consider it a hurt/comfort
trigger warnings: reader's mother is abusive (not physically) and father is emotionally absent. this will be talked about in extensive detail. alcohol, some suggestive themes, and a lot of anxiety, MAJOR TW FOR PANIC ATTACK
author's note: so listen. a lot of the original plot of the song 'tis the damn season relies on ye-olde miscommunication trope. i hate that trope because we are adults here who talk about our feelings! sometimes it doesnt help though! but we take what we can get! this chapter is a really long one as well because the communication is such a hefty bulk of it
ao3 version is available here!
word count: 11.0k
The next four days remained like this; a calm domestic bliss. You did end up going on Wilbur’s stream, but you ended up being unseen in the background while he played Geoguessr. His chat was really nice though.
“Wilbur, I’m telling you, it’s Luxembourg.”
“I know you think that, but I’m like 99% certain it’s Belgium.” He checked the chat briefly, where everyone was agreeing with you. “Chat, shut up, you led me astray last time.” However, once he’d selected Belgium, he was quickly proven wrong, slamming a hand down on the table before placing his hand over his face. He slowly turned to where you were giving him a knowing look.
“What did I tell you?”
“That it was Luxembourg,” he mumbled meekly.
“And what did you select?”
“Belgium.”
“Mmhm. I told you so.”
He threw his head back with a groan while chat proceeded to make fun of him and praise you.
“I expect a full apology after stream.” You grinned at him, both of you knowing you were just asking for a kiss.
He grinned back at you, turning back to the stream where a few keen eyes noticed the faint flush on his cheeks. Most others in chat just made a comment about him being in trouble.
Every day was a good one with him, though. With your parents knowing that you were with Wilbur, they backed off far more, meaning you and him were able to stay in your little bubble together. You started freaking out by the 5th day though. You had two days - technically three, but you had to get the train to London around 9 pm, so it wasn’t exactly a whole day. You just kept thinking about when you’d get home to your shitty flat and your shitty roommates and that shitty fucking city. You felt yourself missing Wilbur’s arms the more you thought about it, even when he was right next to you. You were up for hours that night, riddled with fears and anxieties about the next weeks. Yes, you and Wilbur had a plan to just see how things go and figure it out as you went, but some part of you just could not accept it. For whatever reason, it actually filled you with more anxiety. Mainly because you know yourself better than Wilbur does now, you know your workload, everything that you do each day, and just how little time you have. If it weren’t for the fact that you knew you’d probably have an assignment due immediately the first week back, you could’ve at least consoled yourself with the idea of going down to visit him in Brighton. But you didn’t even have that.
Part of you wanted to fight with him. You wanted to nitpick and find some tiny detail you could start some stupid fight about. It would be so much easier to go back if he hated you again. You wouldn’t feel the ball of guilt in your chest growing in size every time he brought up the future. It would crush you, but at least then he wouldn’t wait for you. Maybe he could move on if you made him hate you again.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to really do that. As strongly as you refused to admit it, you love him. And maybe it was selfish of you to hold on. Regardless, it did not change how you felt.
The guilt grew in your chest as you continued down the mental rabbit hole. You thought about the first few weeks in London. The ache that lived in you now because of how much you missed him. While you got used to the ache, you knew that it would be bigger now once you returned to London. Even worse, you knew he felt it now too. Originally, you could hide your guilt in the farce that he hated you, but now, knowing the truth, you knew that he would share in that ache, the same ache that led you to accept his proposal of going back to his place two weeks ago.
In your head, you entertained an idea. This idea is that everything would be alright if you didn’t have your obligations in London. He would ask you to stay with him, and you would accept. He wouldn’t have to worry about waiting for you. You’d leave your shitty apartment and the so-called friends to move in with him in Brighton, where you’d be happy because you were with him. He’d introduce you to more of his friends until you were a naturally integrated part of their dynamic. You’d help him and his friends with making videos and writing scripts. And everything would be perfect. You’d be happy. You would’ve taken the road less traveled and it would’ve been just as good as you’d imagined it.
But it wasn’t real. You worked your ass off to get into a good school, and you continued to work your ass off to graduate. You, unfortunately, couldn’t just freely abandon everything you’d worked for just because you found happiness in him once again.
You don’t know when you started crying. Somewhere in the mess of thinking about the future and fearing that you’d lose Wilbur again. You didn’t want him to see you like this, let alone wake up to this. You unraveled yourself from his arms, quickly heading to his bathroom. You sat against the locked door, sobbing softly into your hands. You didn’t want to admit how terrified you were, you wanted to hate him, you wanted something that would make this easier and make the ache lessen. You were overwhelmed by the ball in your chest reminding you of every obligation and responsibility and fear that you had. You felt like you were crashing, but you didn’t know what towards. You felt yourself wishing you never showed up, wishing you never went to the pub that night, never had agreed to go back to his place, never spoken to him, never kissed him in the dark of his room, everything you regretted. Only because as happy as he made you, he made the thought of leaving that much more painful.
You heard footsteps and took a deep, shaky breath, trying to silence your own breakdown.
He knocked on the door, “Babe? You alright?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, scared to use your voice.
But you had to, regardless, “Uhm-“ your voice cracked meekly, “Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.” You very obviously were not, but you didn’t want him to know.
He wouldn’t let it go that easily though, “Can I come in?”
You didn’t give a response. You took another shaky breath, wiping at your eyes. You stood slowly, shaking far more than you’d realized. Your hand lay on the doorknob for a moment. He wouldn’t just walk away, you knew that. You were just hoping you could be more put together when he woke up.
You opened the door slowly, looking up to meet his eyes.
You recognized alarm flashing over his face before he opened his arms for you, “Come here love.”
You went into his arms, fighting the urge to cry even harder now.
“What’s going on?” He asked, speaking softly as if the world would crack.
“I’m just-“ a shaky sob broke your sentence, “I’m overwhelmed.”
He nodded, holding you closer. He wanted to ask more, but instead, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
“Let’s go lay down, you can cry it out, and then we can talk. Does that sound good?”
You didn’t want to talk about it, truthfully, but it was better than sitting on the cold bathroom floor at least. You nodded, and he pulled away to walk both of you back to bed. He laid down first, opening his arms for you once again, and you did not hesitate to pull yourself into him. You tried to hold back from breaking down completely again, but once you were in his arms, everything came back all at once. That overwhelming feeling took over once more, and you cried and sobbed like a child against him. He held you the whole time, which only made you cry harder as you thought of leaving him and this safe haven of his bedroom. If you had it your way, you’d never even leave this bed. Your own felt cold in comparison to his. He rubbed your back to console you, singing softly under his breath. Sobs eventually turned into sighs, and you came out from Will’s arms, rubbing at your eyes.
“‘M sorry. Just had a bad night.”
You sat on your heels in front of him, trying to avoid his eye line.
He placed his hands on your hips, rubbing your sides, “Don’t apologize. What’s on your mind?”
You ran a hand through your hair, “A lot.”
He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, he spoke again, “Do you want to go for a walk? Maybe get some fresh air?”
Honestly, some air sounded fantastic. The cold seemed refreshing after the night you’d had. You nodded.
He rubbed your back and nodded, “Alright. Get dressed in something warmer. I’ll grab us something to snack on.”
You nodded once again. You dressed quickly, then sat on the edge of Wilbur’s bed. Everything felt so out of your control. You barely even noticed his return to the room, until he placed his hand on your back, causing you to jump.
“Sorry, sorry, should’ve said something. You ready?”
You nodded, standing with arms crossed and following him outside. When you stepped outside, the frigid air immediately gave a sense of relief. You took in a deep breath, air coming back out in a soft haze due to the temperature. The walk was quiet. The world seemed to be aware of the tenseness in your throat and matched key, everything around the two of you entranced in an overt stillness.
The silence was cut short by the stopping of feet and a hitch of breath as you stared in front of you at the field where you and Wilbur shared your first kiss. Wilbur didn’t notice you’d stopped at first, content to keep walking along the path. He turned to you.
“Is everything alright?”
You turned your head to look back at him, nodding, before looking back once again. He followed your gaze to the field, making a noise of understanding.
“Do you want to go sit? I brought a blanket.”
He did. You hadn’t even noticed the thing slung along his opposite shoulder until now.
“Yeah,” you nodded after a moment. You cautiously tried to ignore the fact that it was the same blanket he’d brought out here that same night as well. Everything was already overwhelming enough, you couldn’t add more nostalgia to the mess.
Gently taking your hand, he led you over to the field, putting down the blanket. He sat down, motioning for you to do the same. You sat next to him and placed your head against him lightly. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close to him. You two sat there quietly for a few minutes.
As the ball in your chest collapsed further in on itself, you realized that you’d have to talk about it. Communication was key, and if you didn’t get at least some of it out, it would only get worse and more overwhelming. Despite your self-sabotaging tendencies, you didn’t want to ruin this.
“I’m scared,” you spoke timidly.
He looked down at you, almost shocked to hear you opening up, “What about?”
“Us. I… I know you have this plan where we sit it out and see what we can do, but I’m just- I’m scared because I know I won’t have time. I know my workload, I know how little time I have already, I can’t sustain a relationship like that. I want more than anything to be able to be with you, but the more I think, the more I know how implausible it is.”
“Darling, I told you, already, I don’t mind waiting for you.”
“No, Will, you don’t understand. After college, there’s no telling where I’d have to go for work. I can’t just go and work for you because that alone gives me more anxiety about my own work performance and if it would cause stress between us.”
“I know, but when you’re working, you’ll have more time, so again, I don’t mind waiting.”
“Wilbur, I cannot ask that of you.”
“You’re not, I’m offeri-“
“You didn’t ask me to stay.”
He was silent.
You continued. “You didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t offer. I cannot possibly ask you to wait, and I can’t know that you’re waiting without feeling like I’m holding you back. Because everything in my future is so uncertain that I can’t have you waiting without some sort of guarantee that I’d be able to get there eventually, and I do not have that guarantee. You telling me that you’d be willing to wait only makes me feel worse because, in that time, you could meet someone really good for you, who could give you everything I can’t, and I don’t want to hold you back from finding the love that you deserve.”
He was quiet, trying to find the words to respond. “There’s something I never told you.”
You looked at him, curious despite the tears in your eyes.
“After you moved to London, I followed you there. I lived there for… about six months. And I did meet someone, but it didn’t work out. It was hell and it broke my heart, but I knew that it didn’t work out because I was trying to fill a void that only you could fit into. Regardless of whether or not you’ve known it, I’ve been waiting for you since the day we met. What’s a bit longer?”
There was a lot of information to process in his statement. But none of it relieved you or made you feel better.
“So, if I let things continue, you’d wait for me. Til the rest of your life if you had to?”
“Forever.”
That did not relieve you at all. If anything, it worsened the guilt in your chest. There was one way to stop him from waiting for you, and you knew you had to, but it broke your heart. But if breaking your heart meant protecting Wilbur’s in the future, you’d take it.
“Wilbur,” you couldn’t meet his eyes, “we have to end this. Whatever this is, between us, we have to end it. I’m sorry.”
Wilbur was quiet. You went to stand, but he grabbed your wrist.
“What if I say no?”
“What? Will-“
“I don’t care what you say. I know how guilty it makes you feel, I understand that. But I’m willing to put the effort in to make us work. Are you?”
You were. You absolutely were. But you and he both knew your heart wasn’t quite in it - too overtaken by the guilt in your chest.
“I am. But at the risk of sounding drastic, Wilbur, it will crush me. I love you so much that it covers me, and I’d kill to be able to feel that forever. But I know the second I step on that train, I’m going to be filled with so much dread and guilt that it might consume me. I might spend the rest of my life wondering if I ruined yours.”
“So, you want to act like none of this ever happened?”
“No, Wil-“
“No, listen to me now. We have our last two days together. Then, what? We stop talking again? Because that would actually, truthfully, ruin my life. More than waiting ever would. Even staying friends would ruin my life. Because, for fucks sake, I love you too. Far more than you know, and I have for far longer than you know. I’m not giving up on us because your future is uncertain. I moved to London for you in the past, and while I cannot get up and move as freely as I used to, I would make every sacrifice, every dedication, every ounce of my being I’d put into making sure you know just how much I love you and how willing I am to make us work. I just need you to be able to do the same. You said that you’re willing to put in the effort. All I ask is that you actually do it. Don’t shut down again like you did in the past because that would ruin me. Even if all you can give me is a day, I would take that day over never having you in my life again. So, if you can make the dedication, even if it is not as strong as mine, then I know we can do this.”
You took a shaky breath, wiping at your eyes. You wanted to say yes, you really did. Your heart was still holding you back. But you didn’t listen this time.
“Can I think about it? It’s not a no, I just- I need to think.”
He took a breath of relief, parroting his words from a few days ago, “That’s all I ask.”
He pulled you back into his arms, where you fit perfectly. His arms felt like home. No. More aptly, he felt like home.
You buried your face against his chest, sighing softly, “How come every time we have some deep, serious conversation, it's always in this field?”
He laughed, leaning his head against yours. “Dunno. Maybe we should get married here.”
You chuckled, “Already thinking of marriage?”
“Don’t you remember our agreement from middle school? If neither of us are married by 35, we’re getting married.”
You snorted, laughing a bit harder, “Maybe waiting isn’t that much of a problem then, seems we’ve already got a potential wedding date set.”
“Darling, if it was my choice, we would’ve gotten married the moment you kissed me here for the first time.”
You flushed, hiding your face against him quietly. “I love you,” was your only reply.
He smiled giddily, holding you tighter, “I love you too.”
The world felt lighter after the exchanges of “I love you”s. It somehow helped ease the ache in your chest. If nothing else made you feel better, at least that did, despite how it felt like a brand across your chest.
You two still lay there for a while longer, despite the world beginning to move again. At least now, it didn’t feel like you were the only one who was aware you were leaving.
The walk back to his place was quiet, but a far more comfortable silence. While neither of you was perfectly happy with how that conversation had gone, you at least talked. That alone meant more than anything. When you walked back in from the cold, he pulled you in his arms again, holding you tighter.
“I didn’t say it before. But, I hope you know that you’re not the only one scared of losing this. I’m terrified. Not because of what you said, but because I’m scared I might fuck up. I have a busy life too, not as busy as yours I’m sure, but I’m scared of the same things. I’m even more scared because, the whole streamer thing, it makes this harder. Most people are respectful, but it puts you in danger, and I am terrified of you ever being in danger, especially because of me. If you’re willing to hold onto me and make those sacrifices for me, then I am more than willing to make these sacrifices for you. But don’t think for a second that I’m not just as scared as you are.”
You nodded. The foyer felt still around you both. You truthfully hadn’t considered the streamer thing. Or the fact that he might be scared too. You’d been so caught up in your head that you didn’t consider whether or not Wilbur would be feeling the same way. Granted, you didn’t even think he’d understand originally, concerned that you’d sound like a madman to him.
You hummed after a moment, “I dunno. Seems kind of cool to have a secret double life thing going on.”
His face split into a grin, holding your jaw in one hand and kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss.
“I haven’t fully agreed yet. Just think you should know that I’m willing. To make those sacrifices, I mean.”
He nodded, “Of course, right. Are you willing to do anything else?” He asked, rubbing your back gently.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Soot.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“You cheeky motherfucker. At least get me upstairs first,” you joked.
He laughed, picking you up and walking upstairs. You laughed, arms wrapped around him. Yeah, so maybe he can make you feel better.
The rest of the day was spent primarily cuddling and watching movies. You were both a bit emotionally exhausted, so it was nice to just sit there and watch something neither of you cared too much about. You ended up falling asleep a few times, exhausted from the sleepless night before. He didn’t mind though, never minded. He made dinner while you napped, bringing it up for you as well so you could eat in bed. He made sure more than anything that you were comfortable, and truthfully, you couldn’t ask for anything better. You felt as loved as he sought to make you feel.
The next day was New Year’s Eve. You didn’t usually care much for New Year’s, but Wilbur woke up that morning determined to make it a special occasion. Between shared uncertainty and fear, he wanted today to feel like a break from reality. You woke up slowly, one of his arms wrapped around you while the other played with your hair. He was humming softly, staring at the ceiling when you looked up at him.
“Morning,” you spoke groggily.
“Good morning,” he replied, fingertips dancing along the skin of your back, “How’d you sleep?”
“Wonderfully,” you answered, though that was an understatement. It was the best you’d slept in years.
“I’m glad,” he leaned down and pecked your lips. “What’s your plan for today?”
You shrugged, “I need to pack, but other than that, just relaxing. Spending our last moments together.” It almost sounded like you’d be dying, and honestly, you might as well be.
He nodded, brushing your hair back. “Well, I’ll help you pack, but if you do me a favour.”
You chuckled, “Sure, what favour?”
“Be my New Year's kiss?”
You laughed and nodded, “Alright. Done.”
He grinned and went to kiss you again, but you stopped him, “You only said New Year’s. You’ll have to wait.”
Even knowing you were joking, he had the most shocked and kicked-puppy look on his face. He snaked his arms around your waist, whining, “Darling, please, you can’t do this to me.”
“Hm, why should I kiss you early? Give me a good reason.”
“Because I love and adore you so much.”
You hummed, “That grants you a kiss for sure.”
He leaned down, pulling you in for a kiss. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss, clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as possible.
When he finally pulled away, both of your lips were slightly swollen and cheeks dusted in a rose blush.
“Had to make it last,” he chuckled softly.
You smiled, but part of you felt torn apart when he said that. Everything you two did today, you had to make last. It was the last full day before your night train tomorrow. You knew that the morning tomorrow would feel more like a death march, anyway. As usual, though, he saw right through you.
“Hey. It’s fine. Let’s just focus on today, alright?”
You nodded, holding onto him. You sat up, and you went to let go, but he kept your hold on him.
“Will, I need to start packing,” you chuckled.
He hummed, “I know. Just a few more minutes, love.”
You could use a few more minutes yourself, you decided, ultimately swayed by the way Wilbur kept his arms wrapped tightly around you. You got comfortable in his arms again, nodding softly, “Alright. Just a few.”
He grinned and kissed the top of your head, rubbing your back. You didn’t want to get up, honestly. You were incredibly comfortable, yet you knew the faster you got the packing done, the sooner you could get back to relaxing in your little bubble.
“Will,” you started. “What do you want to do more than anything right now?”
He looked down at you, thinking for a quiet moment, “Truthfully? Give you a proper date while I can.”
“Oh, yeah? What would we do?”
“Well, that ruins the surprise now, doesn’t it?”
You laughed, “What, are you planning to do it today or something?”
He grinned, pecking your lips, “I might have a plan.”
“And when were you going to tell me?”
“My original plan was to put on a nature documentary and wait for you to fall asleep so I could set everything up.”
“Mm, that definitely would work. But now, I’ll know what you’re trying to do.”
“I can think of other ways to distract you.”
You lightly smacked him and laughed, “You have been so… raunchy lately, what is up with you?”
“Just excited. You love me!” He grinned wider than you’d honestly ever seen from him before.
“Yes, I do!” You laughed, holding onto him tighter.
“That’s amazing! That’s wonderful, I mean, really, that… there are not enough words to describe how wonderful that is and how happy it makes me. And I love you too! We love each other!”
“Yes! We do!”
“That’s amazing!”
“It is!” You two grinned at each other like you were kids again, sixteen and wild without a care in the world. He pulled you forward, kissing you hard. Your hands went to the back of his neck, your fingers reaching up to brush through his hair. He kept a tight hold on your waist, trying to keep you as physically close to him as possible. Your kiss devolved into making out, and you found your motivation to leave the bed being whittled away slowly. Wilbur’s arms around you and his lips on your lips put you in a haze every time, and you’d give nothing more than to stay in it. But he always did a good job of grounding you, in a sense.
He eventually pulled away to stare at you lovingly.
“If we could just lay here forever, we’d inevitably die from many possible reasons, but it would be entirely worth it to be able to spend my last moments with you.”
You flushed, burying your face against him, “You can’t just say things like that, you poet.”
“Just wait until I show you some of the songs I’ve written about you.”
You were stunned, “You’ve written songs about me?”
“Enough to fill an entire discography. I’ve been writing them since I could.”
“Why’d you never show me?”
“How could I show you a million love songs about you when I thought you never wanted to see me again and didn’t know otherwise until a few days ago?”
“Touché.” You chuckled softly, pecking his lips gently.
He smiled, “We should probably go pack. We’ll have more time for better things the sooner we finish.”
You groaned, nodding, “I know.” You paused for a moment, trying to cherish the saccharine serenity for one last moment, before sitting up. He sat up with you, moving his arm from your shoulders to reach out and help you up, which you gladly accepted. Once you were both up, he pulled you into his arms, kissing you lovingly once again. You returned it, pulling away to grin at him. He looked overjoyed. For the first time in two weeks, it genuinely felt like you weren’t worried about… everything. Even if you weren’t happy with the way things went, at least for today, you were plainly happy.
You grabbed one of his jumpers to pull on, and he watched you for a moment.
“What is it?” You asked, chuckling lightly.
He flushed, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he grinned wider, “Just… you’re beautiful, especially in my clothes. You should take that one, actually.”
Your cheeks reddened to match his, “Really? You wear this one a lot though,” it was true. You’d grabbed one of his Los Campesinos! Jumpers, the maroon one.
He nodded, “Yeah, it looks far better on you.” He seemed to pause, processing your sentence in full now, “Wait, how did you know I wear it often?”
The blush on your face increased tenfold. “I- I just,” you immediately stuttered, unwilling to tell him just how many VODs and clips of him you’d seen, “it’s your favorite band. I-I figured you wear it often,” you lied, quite obviously.
He saw right through you, but he moved on, for your own embarrassment's sake, but he kept a grin like he knew a secret the whole time he continued, “Well, it is one of my favourites. But that’s exactly why I want you to keep it. Means more that way.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am sure. One condition, though.”
“Which is?”
“You text me every time you wear it.”
You looked up at him, and because of your years of learning how to read Wilbur Soot, you could see the sadness that shone in his eyes. He never gave much indication that he felt upset, most likely for your sake, but it was getting harder for him to hide it, it seemed. In a passing thought, it reminded you of grief.
You nodded, “I accept those terms,” and you both moved on. You finished getting dressed, and the two of you started the slow march to your place. You walked slower than usual, as if it would keep the time from passing. You wanted to ask him questions, to talk to him more, to listen to him, but your mouth couldn’t quite form the words.
He kept a warm grip on your hand, but he didn’t speak either.
Thankfully, since it was earlier in the day, it was just your parents at home. You opened the door, and Wilbur dropped your hand for a moment to close the door behind you both. You ushered Wilbur to your room while you went into the living room to speak to your parents.
“So, my train is at 9 P.M. tomorrow. Will’s gonna help me pack, and I think he was planning on taking me tomorrow night, so you lot won’t have to drive at night.”
“Were you going to allow us to see you before you leave?”
“Well, once I finish packing, you can say bye to me then. Will has something planned for us for New Year’s tonight, and I imagine we’ll be preoccupied before the train cleaning up since his family is returning soon. So, yes, today will be the last day you see me for this trip.”
“So, what? You show up here, reconnect with your friend, and what? We just never get to see our child again?”
You sighed, “Mum, seriously, can we not have this conversation?”
“No, we should have this conversation. Ever since you’ve come home, you-”
“Dad, can you please stop her?”
Your father didn’t so much as look at you or your mother, staying out of this as he did everything.
Your mother continued her rant about your behavior, and you groaned into your hands, “I can’t fucking stand this, mum! Every fucking time I’m home, you find some niche reason to think I am the worst. Two weeks ago you were complaining that I hadn’t found anyone, and now what, you’re mad that I may have found someone?” You were angry now, but tearfully angry, the type of angry where your tears felt like lava burning red roads into cheeks. “You have spent my entire life picking apart everything I’ve done, while you sit there and act like you’re not a walking contradiction who always acts far worse than I ever have! I can’t stand constantly hearing you tell me I’m the worst!”
You went to continue, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. You turned, and Wilbur was standing there behind you looking nothing but supportive. He pulled you into his side, starting to walk you back to your room. Your mother went to speak again, some snarky comment, no doubt, but Wilbur stopped her immediately.
“Respectfully, there is not a single thing you could say right now that would be beneficial. Now, if you’ll excuse us,” and he ushered you fully back into your room.
You were immediately in his arms, face buried against his chest as you sobbed. He rubbed your back, kissing the top of your head. He leaned his head down to whisper in your ear.
“Take a deep breath for me, love. You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” He started taking deep breaths, taking one of your hands and placing it on his chest, so you could feel the pattern of his breathing. You followed his breathing, slowly getting in control of yourself once again. You pulled away, wiping at your eyes, and he smiled down at you.
“You’re okay,” he nodded, and you nodded back, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Did you hear it?”
It took him a moment to respond, but eventually, he nodded.
You shook your head, “Nothing to talk about then. I just can’t deal with this anymore.”
He brushed your hair back gently, a soft smile covering his face, “Well, let’s get packing then. The sooner we get that done, the faster we can get out of here and go watch movies in bed.”
You let out a shaky laugh, nodding and grinning, “Okay, yeah,” you pulled away, grabbing your suitcase. From there on, the two of you made careful work of packing up all your things. You hadn’t brought much in the first place, just enough to sustain you over the two-week trip. Wilbur was insistent on packing the items in your bag for you while you grabbed and folded items, and it worked well. You still had to account for the small pile of clothes that slowly was growing in his room, but aside from that, packing truthfully didn’t take long. Or maybe it just didn’t seem as long because Wilbur was with you the entire time.
The final item was cautiously packed away, and we moved to sit on your childhood bed, staring at a carved out version of your childhood room, and knowing that, regardless of whether or not you and he stayed together, you would never be those kids again. Something would always be different, now. He wrapped an arm around your waist, loosely holding you against his chest. It wouldn’t necessarily be bad, that things were different. He took your hand gently. Things would just be different, for better or for worse. He squeezed your hand three times. You squeezed his hand three times back.
“You know I’ll stick with you, no matter what. I don’t care how long the road is, I’ll be there,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
You nodded softly, “I know.”
“We’re not becoming strangers again. I won’t let it happen.”
You nodded again, leaning your head further into his chest, “I will try to silence every self-sabotaging voice and urge,” you chuckled softly, “just for you.”
“That’s major. Imagine telling school you that you just said that,” he laughed lightheartedly.
“Yeah, yeah. School me wouldn’t even want to admit to having self-sabotaging tendencies. At least now I’m far more self-aware.”
He nodded, “True, but neither of us were very self-aware back then,” he took a deep breath, sighing out slowly, “Genuinely, though, it does mean a lot. Just knowing that you’ll be trying.”
You nodded, pressing a kiss to his shoulder gently, “I want things to work. I do love you, after all. Even with my uncertainties, I am at least not uncertain about the love I feel for you.”
“I love you so much, darling. I hope you are serious about the amount of love you share for me, because trust me, I am going to be such a nuisance. The moment you get on that train, I won’t leave you alone. You may have to get a second phone because I’ll be constantly vying for your attention,” he shook with laughter, pulling you in.
“Oh, I hope for nothing more. However, I may just need to block you while I’m studying. I think asking you to stop while I study may be far too cruel.”
“If you block me, you won’t get to see all the texts once you’re done.”
“And what would I need to see so badly in those texts?”
“How proud I am of you.”
You chuckled, “What? Why that?”
“Because you’d be studying. I want you to feel encouraged because studying is hard, so you deserve the praise.”
“Thank you, darling,” you both shared a fond look, feeling some sense, somewhere, that you were on the same page for the future.
You were able to leave the house with no issues. Wilbur took your bag outside while you managed a stiff goodbye to your parents. You didn’t plan on coming back next holiday. With a quick hug and a few words that choked you just to say, you escaped out into the fresh air where Wilbur was waiting for you. He gave you a grin that warmed you despite the cold around you both, a small kindling fire placed in your chest every time he gave you that look so full of understanding. You walked right forward into him, colder hands touching cold cheeks but kissing him to spread the warmth from your chest. He chuckled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist but holding you loosely. He knew you weren’t going anywhere right now, he didn’t need to hold you tight. He wasn’t afraid. You were aware of nothing else but him and his lips. Eventually, you both had to let the metaphorical smoke out of your lungs.
“You always seemed happier when you’d leave.” He said it simply as if it didn’t feel like a world-shattering admission. You knew he’d only meant leaving your parents, but in some way, it felt like understanding, understanding why you had to leave town, leave him behind.
And you replied simply, as if, again, you hadn’t felt incredibly taken in his words,
“I guess so.”
You walked back to Wilbur’s slowly, despite the snow starting to trickle around you faster and faster. You exchanged jokes as you walked, ranging from dad jokes to the dirtiest jokes you could imagine. It was peaceful. He opened the door for you, helping bring your things to his room.
“You know what we should do?” He hummed, kissing your cheeks all over.
You laughed, arms wrapped around him, “What?”
“I think we should play more Minecraft.”
You burst out laughing, “You could’ve suggested anything, but of course, Minecraft.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“No, nothing, I’m not complaining. Just think it’s funny. Most guys would’ve suggested sex or something lewd, but you went straight to gaming, and I… appreciate that more, I guess.”
“Well, darling, you should know by now I’m not like most guys. I am a gamer, it’s worse,” you both laughed at that, and you grabbed his hands, nodding.
“Alright, then. Let’s play.”
You both got set up to play together, hopping on the server and playing. You guys goofed around mostly, but after about twenty minutes, Tommy ended up joining the server.
Upon joining, he spammed in chat “VC” over and over again.
“Do you mind joining the VC?” Wilbur asked, “My mic isn’t working right now.”
You nodded, a bit nervous, but joining the voice channel in the Discord server Wilbur had added you to.
“Tommy?”
All you got was a yell as a response before Tommy started divulging some explanation of why he needed you to come to his base with “as much andesite you could find”.
You looked up at Wilbur, clearly confused. He shrugged, mouthing to you ‘Just go with it.’
“Alright, Tommy, I’ll help, but it’ll probably take a while to get the andesite.”
“That’s fine! I’ll help get it! I just need it incredibly badly!”
You chuckled softly. Tommy stayed on VC, chatting with you and Wilbur a bit while you went to help Tommy collect materials. After a few minutes, Wilbur stood, walking over to you.
He kissed your head, “I’m going to step downstairs for a moment, alright?”
You nodded, “Okay, yeah.”
“Do not worry, Wilbur! I will keep them much company!” Tommy’s voice came through grainy on your laptop.
“Maybe I should stay,” Wilbur joked, which led to Tommy spluttering loudly in annoyance.
Eventually, Wilbur did walk out of the room, leaving you and Tommy alone. After a few minutes of joking around, you and Tommy both mining in-game, he spoke up, sounding a bit more serious this time.
“Wilbur’s my brother, you know. Did he tell you that?”
You chuckled, “He didn’t mention it. Can’t say I remember you when he and I were in school together, but I’d take your word for it.”
“Good. You should always take my word for things. I am a great person to believe.”
You chuckled softly, “I will try to, as long as you tell the truth.”
“I make my own truth, so I am always telling the truth.” He chuckled himself. He spoke again after a brief pause, more serious this time, “Seriously, though. I care about Wilbur a lot, and I know how much he cares about you. He’s told me a bit about you, so I trust that you do love him like you say just… please, don’t give me a reason to break that trust, alright? You seem good to him. I want you to be good for him.”
You were quiet after his admission for a few moments. You wanted that too. You wanted to be good for Wilbur, and you wanted Tommy to be able to trust you. You wanted all the things that came with love, the struggles, the fights, the working through it all, everything. “I won’t,” you spoke softly, “I won’t give you a reason to break that trust. I don’t know exactly what he’s told you, but he really matters to me. I don’t want to lose him.”
“Good. ‘Cause I know he feels the same,” Tommy said, “So, when are you going to come to Brighton?”
“Truthfully, I’m not sure. I have my spring classes starting in a few days, and I won’t have a real break up until the summer. I may try to come around then, but it depends on if I have an internship or some classes, but-” you paused, letting out a breath, “Yeah, just… not sure, yet. Hopefully, I’ll have a free weekend, assuming I’m not working or studying.”
Tommy was silent for a moment, but when he spoke, his words came out quickly, “God! I would hate being that busy! How can you stand it? It must get frustrating, I’m busy a lot as well, but not that kind of busy, so it’s not like that I guess, but my god! I just- that sounds like so much! Do you ever-”
“Jesus, Tommy, you’re going to make them pass out, slow down, man,” Wilbur came back in, walking over to you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, kissing the top of your head.
“Sorry, sorry, just, wow! You sound so busy, must’ve been a nice break being back there.”
“It was really nice, yeah,” you smiled, looking up at Wilbur.
“Right, well, Tommy, we’ve actually got to go.”
“We do?”
“Yep! Talk to you later, Tommy, thanks for the help.”
“No problem, Wilbur! Have a good night, you two!”
You spluttered a bit, feeling like the past two minutes took place in 20 seconds, feeling incredibly displaced.
Wilbur hung up the call on your laptop, logging you out of the game as well.
“Will, what’s going on?”
“Just, trust me, will you? I want to show you something.” He took your hand, pulling you up.
You followed him downstairs. You knew he had his New Year’s surprise, but you didn’t suspect it to be this early (granted it was around 5 P.M. at this point), hence why you were so taken aback. However, once he’d gotten you downstairs, you knew that’s exactly what it was.
“Did you enlist Tommy to distract me because you knew I’d be suspicious of you?”
“Yep!” He admitted proudly.
The place looked beautiful. He’d hung string lights up all over the place, each light twinkling in the dark of the room (he’d kept all the big lights off - it was only the string lights and the lamp in the corner. He knew how you hated overhead lights). He put gold stars across the walls, and even scattered a few on the table as well. The best part, however, was the kitchen table. It’d been covered with a midnight blue tablecloth. There were two plates set out, and you couldn’t quite see what was on them from where you stood. What you could see however was the bottle of champagne on ice in the center of the table, along with the candles on either side.
“Will, this is incredible. How did you do all of this so fast?”
“I had everything ready, it was just a matter of putting it up. As for the food, what meal is more fitting than the first thing you taught me how to make?” With a flourish, Wilbur gestured to the dishes on the table, “Cheap ramen.”
You laughed, nodding, “That explains a lot. Did you make it fancy like I taught you, too?”
“Of course. I remember exactly how you made it.”
“Even the miso paste?”
“Especially the miso paste. I always keep some in the house since you taught me.”
“Really?”
“Of course. It’s become a big comfort meal for me.”
You smiled up at him, “Well, I’m glad. It seems a bit early for a New Year's celebration, though.”
“Yes, but we have to eat first. Plus, I’ve decided since you don’t really love New Year's, we’re toasting something else first tonight.”
“Oh, yeah? What?”
“Us. Being together again.”
“Cliche, but I’ll allow it,” you joked, and he pulled you over to the kitchen table.
“You love it, you’ve just always hated admitting how much you like cliches.”
“That is not true.”
“Oh yeah? How many times did you watch 10 Things I Hate About You when you were sad in school?”
“Hey, Americans know how to revisit Shakespeare in the modern audience well, okay?”
“I know, and you adore the cliches in that movie, and it is so full of them.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile never left your face. You held his hand, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.
“Thank you,” you murmured, “I just about think this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“For now it is. I’ll make sure something tops it.” He smiled, pulling out your chair for you. That combined with the warm look on his face sent a feeling akin to the flush of cheap whine across your chest. You smiled at him, reaching out to take his hand. You couldn’t speak — couldn’t find the words to reflect the love you felt for him. He took your hand, squeezing it gently. He spoke for you.
“For as shitty as your parents are, I’m glad you still decided to come this winter.”
You chuckled softly, and he continued. “I’m serious. I almost didn’t come this winter either. At the last minute, I said, why not, maybe it’ll be nice. And while I don’t believe much in fate, or the stars aligning, I think that something special happened to make you and I both, for whatever reason, think maybe something would be different. Because when you think about it, we both came here expecting something different, but it’s never been more similar. My parents are gone, yours are being shitheads, and we’re still confiding in each other. So I don’t know what it was, but I wish I did so I knew just exactly what force I had to thank for bringing us together again.
“We’ve spent so much time together here talking about what didn’t happen, you know. The fight, the four years we spent not talking, the missed time. But it would’ve continued, if neither of us made the choice to come here, or if neither of us decided to go to the pub that night. So while I don’t believe in fate, or the universe making our choices for us, every choice we made for the past four years would’ve always led us right back to each other.”
You don’t know at what point in his admission you started crying. He gave you a look of concern, and he was about to ask if you were alright. Before he could, you stood, and he did the same, meeting you in a tight embrace. You buried your face into his shoulder, and your grip was tight enough to turn your knuckles white. You sniffled quietly, voice quivering as you spoke.
“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, laughing into his shoulder. “Two weeks ago, I never would’ve thought we’d see each other again. When I’d agreed to come here, I thought there might be a chance, but I didn’t let myself think about it, I- I couldn’t tell if the idea made me nervous or excited. But now, it feels like I can’t get rid of you,” I chuckled, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s like a little thread keeping us together.”
He smiled, kissing the top of your hair. “Good, because you truly will never get rid of me after this.” He pulled away to wipe the tears from your eyes.
You took a soft, shaky breath as you smiled up at him, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You both sat back down after that, eating quickly. The meal felt like home. As you and Wilbur finished eating, he stood once more to open the champagne. He popped the cork, thankfully not causing too much of a mess as he quickly poured the champagne into our two flute glasses. He picked his glass up, holding it up in a toast. You grabbed yours and did the same, smiling up at him as he spoke.
“To my best friend, my fire, and my lover. Here’s to reuniting and being allowed to find a home in each other.”
You grinned, lightly tapping your flute against his before taking a sip. He took a sip of his own drink, taking your hand and pulling you up. He turned on some music, and he pulled you into another embrace. He started swaying, and you joined him, neither one of you speaking as you held each other close. Even if the world ended at this moment, the room caught fire or even flooded, neither of you would leave this embrace. It essentially was the end of one world, you thought to yourself sardonically. You pushed those thoughts away, determined to have a good night with him. He pulled away to give you a warm smile, gently cupping your cheek,
“Get out of your head,” he chuckled softly, and you flushed.
“How can you always tell?”
“I’m not sure how to explain it exactly, but I know you. I know when you get that distant look in your eyes that you’re stressed out about something and trying to hide it. Or that when your breathing quickens just a bit it's because you thought of something you didn’t like. I told you, I’m memorizing you, and each tiny piece is important.”
You leaned your head against him gently. “You don’t know how nice that is,” You whispered. No one else ever notices
He wrapped his arms around you once more before pulling you over to the couch. You thought he was going to put on a movie or something, but instead, he just turned to you.
“Just, stay here a moment, alright?”
You nodded, and he returned within a moment, holding his guitar. He sat back down next to you, starting to strum a few chords. He didn’t say anything as the chords turned into a soft pattern. He started playing a song quietly, something soft and sweet, but he sang no words.
“I don’t know the words, yet,” he said softly, “But I know this is another one for you.”
You smiled up at him, watching him play. He looked gorgeous while he played, so clearly in his element. It was a funny contrast to two weeks ago. Two weeks ago you didn’t know where you and him stood as friends, and now, you were closer than before. It almost made you anxious to contrast those two points. Fast-moving things often crashed.
“It sounds beautiful.”
He nodded before speaking again, “I didn’t want you to go back without hearing it first, even though it’s not done.”
“Why?” You asked quietly.
He smiled. “Giving you something to wait for. To hold onto. Can’t ignore me if you know you’re waiting for something.”
“You think I’d ignore you?”
“Not on purpose. I think I understand how important your future is, though, and how wrapped up you get in it. So I think you’ve been ignoring the world because you’ve forgotten it exists. But it’s harder to forget when you know you’re waiting on something out there.”
You gave a sad smile, looking away. “I guess you’re right. This’ll help though, definitely.”
He smiled, placing his guitar down. “I’m glad. Plus, I’ve still got a bunch of other songs about you that I can show you. But those can wait for the future, too.”
You took a sip of your champagne, just about downing the thing before setting your glass down.
You and Wilbur sat and talked for a long time, getting drunker as you did. Meaningless stories, sharing experiences you’d wished he’d been there for, and vice versa.
“I remember there was this guy in my English Lit class, and my god, Will, you would’ve hated him. I remember coming to class every day and thinking ‘if only Wilbur were here. He’d at least understand’ because every person in class acted like he was this genius! In reality, he was pulling his ‘ideas’ straight from other people, and no one said anything because his father paid for the class textbooks. It was infuriating!”
“God, was he a tory? He sounds like one.”
“Yes! He was a huge tory! I remember we read The Scarlet Letter and he went on this long rant about how he’d never be satisfied with a woman like Hester, completely missed the point of the book, and the majority of the class went ‘That’s a fantastic observation’ like, motherfuckers, no it is not! He’s just a dick!”
Wilbur laughed, leaning his head into the crux of his elbow. “God, I can just imagine. He sounds like a fucking dickhead, genuinely.”
“He was. Even worse, he’s dating my flatmate, so I can barely escape the asshole. I walk into the living room, and he’ll just be there,” You groaned, and Wilbur chuckled.
“You haven’t spoken much about your flatmates.”
You shrugged softly, “I’m not particularly close with any of them. We all grouped together for a project once, and we got close enough to trust that none of us would steal from or kill the other. I needed a better place to live because the school facilities just weren’t working for me anymore. They’re nice enough, but I don’t know if they actually like me or just like my convenience.”
“Your convenience?”
You nodded softly, “Yeah. I’m quiet, I don’t take up much space, and I keep to myself for the most part. I’m convenient.”
He scoffed, “That is not you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. Convenient? You’re a person, not a placeholder. You’ve always loved being loud and being more of an extrovert than you’d grant yourself.”
“Maybe you just bring out that side of me. Back there, I’m different.”
He hummed, his fingertips running along your back, “Guess I’ll have to change that once I visit.”
You chuckled, your increasing drunkenness making a red flush come up to your cheeks. “Wilbur, I’d rather not get kicked out of my place.”
“You deserve to feel like a person.”
“I do!”
“But not you. You’re being what they want you to be,” He sighed, “But don’t worry when you move to Brighton, I’ll make sure you always feel like you.”
“Oh?” You hummed, “When I move to Brighton?”
He chuckled, clearly just as affected by the champagne as you had been. “Let me fantasize a bit, alright?”
You grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder, “Tell me about it. Your fantasy.”
He smiled, wrapping an arm around you. “Alright. In my fantasy, you’ve moved to Brighton. We have plans to live together, but we haven’t moved in together yet because we’re still trying to find a good place with three rooms. One room for us, an office, and a guest room or music room, depending on if we have guests or not. You’re working with my band to edit some of our lyrics and just things that we write. We go to the beach at night and have a good time, swimming or just goofing around. When I go on tour, you join me. Eventually, we move in together, and we take a year just traveling the world, going everywhere we can think, and then maybe choosing one of those places to settle down in. Then, we just live happily together, not worried about trivial things. Then, every decision, we make together from then on, as a pair.”
You smiled, hiding your face against his shoulder. It sounded lovely, though likely unviable, as much as you wished the opposite. “That sounds nice.”
He nodded softly, not saying more. He just held you close.
Neither of you spoke for a long while. His phone chimed after a while, and he stood, grabbing your hands and pulling you up.
“It’s almost midnight.” He smiled, and he walked you both outside. You were immediately met with the freezing cold, and he wrapped his arms around you to try and combat the frigid air. You leaned into his embrace, looking up at the stars.
He kissed your cheek gently, staring up with you, “Penny for your thoughts?”
You smiled softly, “I feel small. In the last two weeks, every tiny problem has felt overwhelming. But now, compared to everything, it feels insignificant. I feel insignificant. And not in a bad way, just more in a way that… I don’t know, maybe I should try and just live a little more.”
He hummed softly, “It is kind of a nice feeling. There’s an entire world around us that doesn’t care about a single thing we say or do. The way I see it, we should just do everything that makes us happy. None of it might matter, but at least we’ll be happy. That makes it matter.”
You nodded, “Yeah. That’s true. I suppose we have to find reasons to make this shit matter. In the philosophical sense, at least, life is meaningless until we choose what has meaning.”
“So what gives it meaning for you?”
You thought for a long moment. “A few things. Getting my degree. Finally feeling free,” you sighed. “Truthfully, a lot of them lead back to you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I look forward to my future now, more than I ever have, because I know I’ll have my best friend with me. I look forward to moving on the off chance that we’ll be close to each other. Things that used to stress me out, you find a way to calm them. Like finding a job. Even if I don’t love the idea now of potentially working for you, maybe I will later on, and just knowing that I’d have a potential choice brings me hope. It’s choice, I think, that guides a lot of my meanings back to you. Before you walked back into my life, I didn’t feel like I had a choice for any of my future decisions. I was still pleased with the idea of working in English and such, but I just figured that I’d be forced to take the first job I found, relocate where they told me to, and spend the rest of my life living under the guise of another. But you’ve brought the idea of choice back to me. And that puts so much more meaning into life, and especially the future, even if I am still scared to death of it.”
As if on queue, the sky lit up with fireworks, shining over the overgrown backyard, casting your own private spotlight.
“Happy New Year’s, darling,” he whispered, turning to face you. He placed a hand on your cheek, gently pulling you in for a long, loving kiss that made your body match the fireworks in the sky. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and when you finally pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his gently. Your breath and his mixed in frosted puffs, but you felt warm despite the cold around you. Your nose and ears were tinged pink, your fingertips even paler at their home on Wilbur’s cheeks. You both pulled away to stare at the fireworks as they cascaded over the midnight stars.
Once the fireworks had ended, leaving a haze of smoke over the stars, Wilbur took your hand. He pulled you in for another kiss, shorter this time. You smiled into the kiss, knowing even as the cold set into your bones, that you’d be content to stay in this moment forever. He chuckled when he pulled away from the kiss, taking your hand and tugging you inside.
“C’mon. Let’s head up.”
You followed him inside, and while you went to go clean up, he kept your hand in his, not letting you move into the kitchen.
“It’s tomorrow’s problem. Seriously. Although, there is one more thing we should do.”
You rolled your eyes at him with a fond smile, “What is that?”
“Give me a second, don’t move!” He ran out of the room, returning quickly with a Polaroid.
You chuckled softly when you saw the polaroid, turning towards him. He came to stand next to you again, pulling you into his side. He held the camera up, and you smiled up into the viewfinder. He waited for a moment, and right when you thought he was going to take the photo, he leaned over and kissed your cheek, snapping the photo the moment it happened. Your smile lit up when he kissed you, and you turned to him.
“What was that for?” You chuckled softly.
He smiled, grabbing the photo as it came out of the Polaroid. “Wanted to make sure it was the real you smiling.”
You flushed, looking down out of shyness for a moment. He shook the photo for a moment before setting it down to give it time to develop. He put his camera back away, came back, and picked up the photo. He smiled fondly at it, before turning the photo to you.
“I think it’s the best photo I’ve ever seen.” When he showed you the photo, it was like a gear turned. You finally saw what he meant when he spoke about your smile because you looked genuinely happy, a foreign thing for you to see.
“I agree,” you spoke softly, smiling up at him. “Can I take a photo of it?”
He nodded, and you took out your phone to take a photo of the Polaroid. “I’d let you keep it, but honestly, I’m feeling a bit selfish towards it. Plus, you get my jumpers, I get this. Even exchange.”
You laughed softly, giving him a quick kiss, grinning, and speaking through it, “I would say so.”
He chuckled, happily kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled away, resting his hand against the small of your back as you both walked back upstairs. You both changed into pajamas, and you started packing up the rest of your clothes. You started pulling out your clothes for the next day when Wilbur came and wrapped his arms around your back.
“Will, what are you up to?” You chuckled softly.
He smiled, kissing the top of your head, “Nothing. Just reminding you how comfortable my arms are, and how nice it would be to leave this for tomorrow and head to bed.”
You smiled fondly, leaning back in his arms, “You feeling cuddly or something?”
He pulled you in tighter, chuckling, “Maybe. Now, c’mon. It’s late, and I know you’re tired.”
With a sigh, you relinquished. “Okay. We’ll have the time tomorrow anyway.”
He pulled away, but only so he could turn you around and pull you into bed with him. You moved into his arms, relaxing against him quietly. He smiled, leaning down to kiss you languidly. The kiss elevated to multiple, going into a full-on makeout, but it wasn’t fiery and fast, it was calm and loving. Each second made you yearn more and more for some timeline where you weren’t leaving tomorrow.
You pulled away after some time, and his hand met your cheek, thumb slowly rubbing over your skin in a soothing manner. You smiled in return, gently playing with his hair. He made a pleased noise when you did so, and you leaned forward to peck his lips gently.
“Goodnight, Wilbur.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
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