𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

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𝟏𝟏:𝟏𝟏, 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬


𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚

ping!

that's the first thing i notice; the sound of a discord notification going off. the second thing i notice is the arm wrapped around my stomach, generating an unnecessarily comfortable feeling of warmth. the events of last night flood my memory: meeting will at the pub, singing my set, leaving with him to come here. 

oh god, was this a mistake?

i wriggle out of his grasp, sitting up to look at him. he doesn't wake, just moves his arm to wrap around himself instead. he looks so innocent while asleep, like the world can't reach him in the depths of his slumber. i debate just letting him sleep for a while and wake on his own, but ultimately decide to get him up so we can grab something to eat before the day begins.

"will... hey, beanpole, wake up," i shake his arm gently. he hums an incoherent response, turning to lie flat on his back. the sun's changing position shines light on his face, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut tighter, a hand coming to his face to block out the rays of sunlight.

"wha timeisit," he groans, the words nearly unintelligible. i roll my eyes and rub my hands together as fast as i can, generating heat before placing one hand on either side of his neck.

his eyes shoot open as he sits up straight. "christ, that felt weird," he shakes his head, squinting at the daylight. "you feel weird," i retort maturely. 

"did we seriously sleep out here?" he questions rhetorically. "seems that way, doesn't it?" i answer anyway, starting to get to my feet. i want to get away from this place where we've fallen asleep together, and i want to get away from the feeling settling in my stomach, whatever it is.

"hey-" he starts, taking my wrist. i look down at him questioningly; his touch sends tingles through my arm, not helping this feeling at all. 

"i had a really nice time last night, via" he says admits sheepishly. for a moment, i have no idea how to respond. the feeling i got yesterday when he told me he felt comfortable around me came back, a deep panging in my heart. 

"i..." oh, get a grip, olivia! "i've had a good time with you too, will."

his lips turn up at the corners, creating a smile so deliciously genuine it immediately causes my skin to prickle and my face to heat up. what is happening to me?

"come on, i'm starving," i say as an excuse to extricate myself from the uncomfortable situation. under no circumstances will i allow myself to have these feelings for a man i met yesterday, fluffy hair or no. it's just unnatural! and not to mention completely daft... 

"olivia?"

i shake the thoughts from my mind and look up at the now-standing man in front of me. "can't you see i am conversing with myself?" i say in reply, walking to the exit.

he shakes his head with a laugh. he thinks i'm joking.

i'm picking at the remains of my meal of choice, fish and chips, when will speaks. "i still cannot believe you're having chips at this hour," i glare at him as i take one and wave it in front of his face before shoving it in my mouth obnoxiously. "my body has no sense of time, will simons." i say in response. 

he takes a bite of his eggy bread, chewing aggressively in retaliation. "gross!" i laugh, tossing the uneaten end of a chip at his face. surprisingly, he catches it in his mouth, leaving me shocked and, truthfully, a bit impressed. "good reaction time." 

he inclines his head slightly, "thank you, thank you." i roll my eyes and toss down about £13 for the meal. "oh no, i was going to-" he starts, but i immediately shake my head. "i can pay for the meal," i say. i dislike having people pay for my meals, and i don't know if I want him getting the idea that we're on a date.

"well at least let me get my half," he tries again, but i shake my head again and tug on his sleeve to get him up. he reluctantly gets up to leave the booth with me, promising "i'll pay for the next one."

so there'll be a next time, then?

my already spinning thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice calling my name. it takes a second to place, but when i turn to see who the voice belongs to, my heart drops. 


"carter?"

recreational idiocy | wilbur sootWhere stories live. Discover now