Assassin || Tommyinnit

chapter xxii

⊱⊱ ── {◆✧◦ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦✧◆} ── ⊰⊰

Tommy had two conditions when it came to sleeping.

1, he treasured his sleep.

And 2, he was a light sleeper.

Even the smallest noises could wake him up, so he wasn't exactly the happiest when there was a knock on his door at 11:43 am, pulling him out of a pretty good rest.

Tommy sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes. Looking out the window, and glaring at the bright moon and stars in the sky, he fell back onto the bed, hoping to go to sleep.

But then there was another knock. 

With a loud groan, he sat up from bed fully, hopping onto the cold wooden floor and walking up to the door.

He pulled the door open groggily, looking up to see who was at the door.

Wilbur.

He rubbed away the sleepiness from his eyes again, staring at Wilbur incredulously.

"Are you aware that it's literally midnight right now?" Tommy asked, with a half pout, too tired to muster an entire glare.

Wilbur stared at him matter-of-factly, nodding. "Actually, it's eleven forty-three, and keep your voice down."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, but lowered his voice anyway. "So if you are aware it's sleeping time, why are you knocking on my door, fully dressed to go out?"

Wilbur was not wearing his usual suit, instead, he was dressed in a yellow sweater, black sweatpants.

He had a black jacket over the sweater, the hood pulled up and over his head, and his hair was practically covering his eyes.

And not to mention, he had a bag that looked long enough to fit possibly a dead body.

"Did you kill someone?" Tommy whisper screamed, pointing at the bag.

Wilbur shushed him. "Just... do you want to come with me or not?"

"Go where?" Tommy asked, any last bit of sleep gone from his face.

"Out to the village, come on, we have to get there before twelve," Wilbur lightly pulled Tommy's arm.

"Um, sure, let me go grab my jacket, yeah?"

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. "Do you even have one? The one you came here wearing is probably being washed right now or something."

Tommy thought about it, before frowning and nodding. "I guess I don't have a jacket to grab, lets go then."

Wilbur shook his head, reaching into the "probably a dead body bag" and pulled out a sweatshirt.

"Nonsense! You can't go out now without a jacket, it's freezing. Here, I came prepared."

Tommy hesitantly grabbed the sweatshirt, opting to tie it around his waist instead of wearing it.

Wilbur's face slightly fell, but he shook it off. "Ready to go?"

Tommy eyed the bag Wilbur was holding once again, and wondered if that bag was to put his dead body in after Wilbur killed him or something.

Tommy grabbed a small pocket knife —just in case —before following Wilbur out of his room.

Wilbur led him to the back of the castle, discreetly, and in the shadows, avoiding the cameras.