For Our Own Sake

5. Almosts, Assumptions, and Intentions

A//N: AHH this is late, here you go. sorry lol. Comments and votes are greatly appreciated

The two of them, over the past week, had set out some goals for themselves.

Wilbur, after the day he spent with the bedroom door locked, had to admit that he knew he got off easy. He barely said anything of an answer before the two were talking about something completely different. And he knew it wasn't a great 'friend thing' to do. So with the unease of awkward guilt he felt, he set a goal to open up, even if only a little bit. Quackity talked about his life and other slightly more personal experiences a lot of the time. Surely Wilbur could do the same.

Quackity's goal however, was indirectly being made a bit more difficult due to Wilbur's. Quackity was trying to keep the warmth from flooding his chest again, he just knew it was getting unnecessary. Whether the pink on his cheeks was a result of something Wilbur said or Wilbur did, he tried to instantly get rid of it. There was simply no need to be this focused on his friend- even if the guy was suddenly a lot more talkative about things Quackity never thought he would (you see, seeing Wilbur possibly trusting Quackity more sent his mind into a mushy spiral of achievement, an appreciative giddiness, and... maybe even something like adoration?).

Of course, Wilbur has no idea of Quackity's goal, obviously Quackity wasn't ridiculous enough to say such a thing out loud. Wilbur didn't outwardly state his either, but Quackity could tell something had convinced Wilbur to open up.

So now here they are, both attempting to get closer and closer to their secret goals.

Quackity was trying his hardest to ignore the way Wilbur looks under the moon's light, brown fluffy hair and a white streak tinted almost a light blue do to the night sky and the florescent light that somehow still managed to stay on out on the patio.

But that was rather hard, seeing as they were both seated side by side on a small wooden bench that was more a rusty wooden stool that went up to your knees, probably on the verge of breaking and pushed up against the wall so the two had a surface to lean on.

Wilbur was the one who suggested this idea, so it was of course also him who suggested they grab a blanket to keep warm. Quackity nodded, about to grab one for himself and another for Wilbur when the guy so casually stated only one was needed. Quackity of course, played dumb and asked Wilbur "What about your blanket?" to which Wilbur simply took the blanket out of Quackity's hold saying, "It'll be our blanket, that good?"

And Quackity said yes, yes it was good and that's how they ended up pressed into eachother's sides (for maintaining warmth) while gazing up at the admittedly, really pretty night sky under that flickering patio light.

"You know something about the sky," Wilbur starts with a low and thoughtful mumble, breaking the comfortable silence seeing as they were finally situated on the small bench. Quackity hums as a response, curious as to what dances behind Wilbur's eyes as he looks up at the stars scattered across grey and blue.

"Despite how things have changed drastically, no matter how many zombies walk the streets- despite everything," Wilbur says, a calmer passion sinking deep in his tone as he eyes the empty ground below them before returning his gaze upwards. "The sky stays the same."

Quackity identifies the look in his eyes, comfort and contentment- for the one thing that remains at the end of the world.

Quackity glances up, this time with more meaning than just the view. He thinks he understands.

"Cause no matter what, it looks just like it did before. When it's sunny, the sky is blue and it's bright out. When there's heavy grey clouds it rains just like it always has. And when it's the end of the day, night comes, it's constant." Wilbur carries on, voice lowering in volume as he finishes, glancing over at Quackity with wandering and attentive eyes, probably seeing if he sees things similarly.