𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 | William Afton x Reader

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚

William's POV

   She was still and serene.

   I wasn't usually so nervous to approach Y/N, but she'd been so far away lately. I didn't want to scare her off.

   Apparently I hadn't. Not yet.

   Y/N was laying with her back to me; I was propped up on one arm. I wasn't tired then, so I decided just to watch her. The rhythmic rise and fall of her form was soothing, and though I knew she was still awake, I wanted to reach out and touch her - just to make sure she was real. She often makes me feel as if I'm dreaming.

   It was the first time in a while that I'd felt this conflicted. I was usually so sure of myself, confident in my decisions, but... God, what was I supposed to do around Y/N? She was the one person I couldn't truly read.

   "Um... Vincent?" A whisper.

   "Hm?"

   "Could you...?" She sounded hesitant, and when she got the words out, they were mumbled. "Could you maybe come a little closer?"

   I almost chuckled and made some sort of comment, but didn't get the chance to, anyway. Y/N quickly forced out the words:

   "It's cold as hell, so..."

   It wasn't, and she was buried in quite a hefty heap of blankets that I got almost no share of, but I decided not to say anything.

Y/N's POV

   On edge, you tensed when Vincent gently brought himself closer to you. You could feel his warm breathing on your neck when he did, and he carefully wrapped his arms around your waist.

   You tried to be subtle about inching back to press against him.

   It was weird how the world worked, you realized. You had been distant with Vincent for easily months, and then one night changed everything. Maybe the two of you had been missing each other subconsiously for all the time that you hadn't been talking.

   Whatever it was, you didn't care. You were tired, and wanted just to sleep in the comfort of his arms. Maybe the both of you would be weird again tomorrow. Maybe you'd forget about the whole thing. But right now was perfect.

   Almost suddenly, Vincent grasped your hand, which was resting on your thigh. You twitched in response, starting to get way too hot under the covers. He rubbed circles softly on your knuckles with his thumb, breathing evenly.

   "Y/N?" He asked in nothing more than a whisper.

   "Mhm...?"

   "Call me cheesy if you'd like, but..." He trailed off, almost as if he was choosing his next words as carefully as possible. "I think you're the most special person on this earth. I definitely don't deserve you."

   You paused, frozen. You were certain nobody had ever said anything before that made you feel the way that sentence did - like you were precious. Like you mattered. Quietly, to avoid embarrassment, you said:

   "That is really fucking cheesy," But then added: "What makes you think you don't deserve me?"

   "Seriously, love? Have you met me?"

   You chuckled quietly, but furrowed your eyebrows. I mean, sure, he's... he's done some terrible shit, but... Vincent shifted and pulled you closer. There's a good, sane person in there. Sometimes I forget about the other side of him.

   He had never let go of your hand, and seemingly didn't plan to. You were pretty sure you'd never seen him more at ease.

   Does he really deserve to feel bad about himself?