𝕻𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖘 - (Wilbur)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎

It had been a month, the pair had made two songs together. The first one was a wonderful song on (what Inka was assuming was) Wilbur with Celeste, moving on from failed relationships and having the urge to stay with her for the rest of their time. A basic movement for a great song. The second was more of Inka feeling ready for a goodbye. The only note Apollyon gave to Inka before never speaking again was that her fate was sealed. Since that point, he offered his hand to waltz and never once spoke. No matter what she said. He also never returned to the corporeal world as anything, he had reverted back to the inner daemon Inka would assume never spoke. There was only one difference; she begged for him to come out one last time for one final moment, and he never responded. But that never meant he declined. He appeared that next morning as his daemon in the evening after her meeting with Wilbur. He never spoke, he only watched her as she realised he was there. She then grinned and offered him a hat. A top hat with a white ribbon at the base, which he wore with humour before vanishing with the new article of clothing.

That night, in her lonesome slumber, she saw him wearing the hat, which he tipped before offering a hand to Inka for the waltz she turned to Amor for.

It was late afternoon, Inka was in the castle, writing about her concepts of death, or the ability to die. Mercury sat by her, interested as someone who was going to become immortal; as did Wilbur, piqued by her literary skills on such broad concepts. She scribbled ideas and scratched out what she disagreed with after finding a better way to say it, concentrated in her craft of retelling stories she was given and making up new ideas. She'd slip in stories of her own and begin writing in the second person for the next person to see. It was such a terrible feeling knowing her life was decided, how she would die without herself even knowing it. It was stressful but also disappointing. Another nymph dying young. She couldn't bear to think of it. And it was surely happening to her.

Wilbur read over her intricate wordings and immaculate thoughts, never had he seen someone so passionate on such an enigmatic ideology. It was hypocritical of her, considering nymphs had greater lifespans.

Mercury gazed at what he knew he'd never understand. There was something strangely educational about reading lines on lines of simple perceptions in what couldn't be achieved. Like an ascribed rich person reading on the experiences of the poor; or an ascribed rich person reading on the fantasies a poor person had on the rich lifestyle.

Tubbo entered the library with a more than awkward expression etched onto the lips of his countenance. Inka looked at him and smiled before finally putting down the quill. The other men looked up and waved before Tubbo went over and scratched the back of his neck, "Kristen is calling you all? Someone's here." He muttered and squeezed Inka's shoulders, "oh and Ranboo came this morning." He added and stepped away as Wilbur pulled Inka up from the shielding seat she sat in.

"Who's Ranboo?" Inka asked and Tubbo looked at her blankly,

"He visited last week. The pair of you spoke then as well. Heck you guys spoke before that as well." Tubbo reminded her, "you know, tall guy, black and white with cool eyes. The prince from up north. Wears the suit and- oh wait you guys ignored each other a lot didn't you?" Tubbo asked which was true. Inka and Ranboo had met, but both had such poor socialisation skills, they nodded at each other and briskly walked in their own paths. Tubbo would laugh as they did and Inka would feel as though she was dying inside; she wasn't sure how the anxious prince felt. She was shocked to find out he was only just older than she was, not that it mattered, they never attempted to maintain a conversation.

They all decided to walk out, Wilbur rested his arm on Inka's head as he grew to do over the month. Inka didn't really care, as she spoke to Tubbo who prodded at her side with the sheer absurdity that she still didn't know Ranboo. He was just as frequent of a visitor as she was. In fact, it was his second time that week visiting. He had visited before to ask Kristen about flower selections for a surprise. They could only assume for Venus who was visiting; Hertha insisted on getting her flowers every time.