c!wilbur soot x reader
𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 | (𝐧.) 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦.
"As good as liberty may be, it is dangerous."
A girl who wants freedom, and a boy who offers it to h...
ECCEDENTESIAST - noun, someone who hides pain behind a smile.
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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It wasn't very long after Dream left that Eret had found Y/n and had offered for her to join him— though it was less of an offer and more a demand. He wasn't specifically very calm when she'd decline his offers. It would get very ugly, very quickly.
And, of course, now, the girl was practically forced to plaster on a fake smile and make small talk. It was pitiful, but she did her very best to pretend that she was truly enjoying her time, that spending long hours with Eret filled her with a sense of euphoria.
It wasn't until days later that Y/n found herself alone in the library, though she found that it wasn't uncommon for people to join her when she was alone, especially in the garden (even if she didn't want them to). Solitude was growing more scarce by the day.
Thunder rumbled outside the window, threatening to strike. Y/n placed down her book down for a moment on the table beside her to admire the outside. She basked in the glow of the moonlight that beamed through the glass. It reminded her of the last night that she and Wilbur had spoken.
Right. Wilbur.
Y/n felt her heart ache as she was reminded of him. So often did she find herself longing for his presence, for his warm touch. She closed her eyes as she envisioned the two of them together, her hands combing his messy brown curls and their breaths mingling together. The girl felt a faint blush grow on her cheeks.
Yes, that was who she wanted. Wilbur. She longed for him, not some prince who didn't care for her at all.
And then, the constant reminder that there was a large chance that Wilbur did not feel the same about her pierced through Y/n's heart as if it were mere butter.
"It's better," she'd mutter to herself, "If he loved me as I loved him, I fear what would become of us, what would become of me. I must stay strong for my family, for my father, for Clay."
Still, Y/n's tough exterior was crumbling, bit by bit and day by day. She knew it wasn't healthy for one person to try to remain strong for so long, and yet, she persisted.
She just didn't know how much longer she could persist.
Y/n's eyes wandered over to her book, and she stared at it with a certain envy. She often wished that her life was as simple of the characters in her book. She knew that they'd have a happy ending, but her? There were no guarantees.
The end of her story was uncertain.
Y/n gently ran a hand through her hair, letting out a shaky breath. No, she wouldn't cry— she couldn't. Her facade was something that she had to keep up, even if it meant lying to herself.
And yet, the girl couldn't stop herself as a soft sob escaped her lips, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She placed her face on her hands as she felt whimpers left her lips and her cheeks grew wet.
You're so weak.
Y/n wiped her eyes in an attempt to stop her tears, but they continued flowing.
Gather yourself. You don't have time for this.
Y/n didn't listen to the little voice in her head as sobs raptured through her body.
"Why a-am I like th-this?" The girl's words were almost indecipherable due to the crying as she stuttered them out. The female shut her eyes in anguish as she opened her mouth to catch her breath, a loud heart wrenching gasp leaving her mouth.
It was almost funny, in strange way. After years of wishing for love, Y/n was getting married to a boy that she hated.
It broke her heart and scattered the pieces.
And so, Y/n continued to cry. Oh, how she cried. Her tears were now rivers. She had to move her book away from her to ensure she did not get it wet.
When her cries had finally dissipated, Y/n wiped the wet from her eyes and took in deep, labored breaths.
The girl rubbed her eyes, and closed them to let out a shaky sigh.
"Calm down, you can do this," she muttered to herself.
She left the library as quickly as she could and retreated to her bedroom. Once she had finally reached it, she walked quietly into her bathroom and leaned over the counter.
She stared at the mirror before her, and almost couldn't believe her eyes. The girl who stared back at Y/n wasn't her— she was a hollow and empty version of herself. A placeholder. She was not the same girl she once was.
Y/n's heart sinked in her chest as she cast her eyes to her bathroom floor. She could feel her eyes growing glossy, but she would not allow herself to cry. Not again.
Instead, the girl placed on a mask. A smile. She forced a smile onto her face.
This, she would tell herself, was better.
The female kept on the smile until her face started to hurt. Y/n then crept up into her bed and pulled her covers over herself. Her smile soon fell as she drifted into a slumber.
