𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒 || wilbur soot

50k Special

A/N: does not add to the original plot btw!!

For years have I sought their seclusion; this entire time these concrete walls never failed to provide as my cocoon and do it well. Here was my solace, never failing to provide me with comfort and serenity.

My gaze travels across their smooth surface, their rose color dazzling but earthen. My hands can feel the warmth of the sun, which has been transferred to them but returned with steadfast purpose.

It was never going to be easy to leave home, something I know all to well after experiencing it firsthand already, however this time I chose take these emotions and these memories of warmth and joy with me, the prospect of fresh ones prevents any feelings of regret or anxiety that are usually always destined to torment me.

No offense though, won't miss the neighbors, Old Man Davis was a pain in my ass and that Wilbur Soot guy? Pfft, who is that again?

"Are you all set, love?" From behind me, a towering British voice speaks.

"One more moment," I sniffle, sounding pathetic and gross, although I was really trying not to cry at the time. As I stood in front of my entryway, or what was my entryway, staring at the empty space where I used to call home reminds me of when I moved here for the first time; it was practically identical.

The weirdo British dude that totally isn't Wilbur because that would be gross slowly hugs my waist from behind, he puts his chin above my head and lightly chuckles, "For a person who talks shit on Brighton so much you seem so devastated to leave?"

"I don't hate Brighton, or British people," I say through sniffles, "I just hate you."

"That's not polite is it?" He says as he turns me around by my shoulders, tenderly taking my chin and wiping the single tear that has rolled down my cheek.

I shrug at him before pulling him into a much-needed hug; despite my banter, he still holds me as securely as I hold him.

I'm not sure how he does it, how can someone like him put up with me so easily; I tell him I hate him, insult him, and even mock him, and yet he never gives up on me, he never even gets tired of me.

Instead, he tells me he loves me, he compliments me, and that he considers himself lucky that I had moved to Brighton.

He always makes me feel so utterly special, and I'm ecstatic that I'll be able to maintain this for the remainder of my life in our new home.

Okay maybe I lied, maybe it was Wilbur, but SHUSH he doesn't need to know.

.

"WOAH!" The blond boy screams as he enters the new home, it was spotless in every corner, a tall ceiling and gorgeous tile floors, "You know I was really starting to regret coming because how long the shitty ride was but this is nicee, no cockroaches or nothing!" He quotes.

"Except for that one right there," Ezmae enters behind Tommy with her finger pointed at Wilbur.

"Someone kill it quick!" Elliot screams from behind the door, not even making an attempt to come in and see what they were talking about.

"I was talking about Wilbur you fool." Ezmae grabs Elliot by his collar and drags him inside.

Elliot quickly hides behind her and makes an accusing finger towards Wilbur, "My words still stand."

Wilbur perks an eyebrow, "Oh? What're you gonna do?"

Elliot who was pretending to be scared immediately drops his facade and smiles while putting his head on his sisters shoulder, "I'll deck you."