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((Wil centric))

((ANY PARAGRAPH OR SENTENCE ENTIRELY IN ITALICS IS LIKE A FLASHBACK))



((Warnings: referenced abuse, smoking, terrible self image, and sprinkles of (mostly SA related) trauma))


Wilbur sat curled up into himself on the bed in his room, staring blankly at the drawer on the bedside table. He didn't dare to actually open it, just stared. 

In it, the number of the person who had been on and off of his mind for the last few years. Just the thought of him brought back memories of all sorts. His mind swam with cold nights on tire swings, slow dancing in empty lots, cheap cigarettes, sweet roses, cracked open windows in the early hours of the morning and tussled hair from the wind let in through a rolled down car's squeaky windows. Gravel, wood chips, dried out dead leaves, sandy beaches, the night air and scooting closer together on bus stop benches. 

"Wil? You alright, bun?" He turned to the doorway, the silhouette of Sapnap standing in the shadow just outside of his doorway.  "Lost in thought?"

He nodded, swallowing roughly. Those days weren't coming back, even if he did. All that was left of what they were was broken and lost to time, just as that person he was.

Sapnap sat next to him, offering a hand which he took absent-mindedly. 

"You've been a bit different these past few days, is there anything y-"

"He was at the airport," Wil blurted out. "He was right there, and he- I don't know, I'm just thinking, just.. I miss him Sap, isn't that stupid?"

"Who was..?" Sapnap slowed as he seemed to realize who it must've been. He squeezed Wil's hand, possibly not even knowing it, as he himself went quiet and into thought. 

"Stupid," Wil muttered, shaking his head. He rubbed at his eyes, as if he could scrub out the afterglow of moonlight or the afterimage of infinite ocean waves just off of a rocky shore.

"I wish I could've been there," Sapnap admitted, voice hushed as if he was speaking to himself and to his past regrets as much as he was Wilbur. "He was there when you needed someone, I wish that could've been me. You deserve better than some shitbag."

Wilbur laughed, leaning into him and letting his mind drift to that instead.

What would they have done, had they met back then in person, rather than how they did? Would they have acted like little kids at the playground? Run through hail-streaked streets for cover, tell things to only each other under the cover of midnight?

"Hey, actually," Sapnap stood, turning to him. "You know, nothing's stopping us."

"Oh? From what, exactly?" Wilbur smiled softly, leaning back and raising an eyebrow.

"From making some new memories."

"You're joking."

"Where do we start?"

-

The drive to the old park was shorter than he'd imagined. In his mind it'd been a world away, a place of another time, but here it was, hardly any different than he remembered. The only thing that marked the dirty wood was graffiti, both old and new, familiar and different. The mildewed scent of wood chips after rain greeted him as he stepped cautiously towards the swing.

Stop Calling me That (mcyt + ftm reader) -Book 1/2-Where stories live. Discover now