Endless loop of madness - William afton X reader

35 - Lying around the firepit

(Y/n) sat by herself on the grass watching the fire, while me and Henry sat close to each other, opposite William and Clare, who seemed so happy together. Clare had her arm around his, resting her head on his shoulder with droopy eyes. William seemed invested enough in the conversation with Henry to even notice her drifting off to sleep. I doubt he cared about her, as the state she was in was horrible. She was skinny to the bone and bruised his arms and legs, but yet, sh stuck to him like glue.

I looked up at the colourful sky with bright oranges and burning reds as the sun had only started setting. I smiled, watching the colours as I cuddled into Henry with a sense of worry. I knew not to be, as it wasn't my place to speak and shame someone's activities, but from what I heard, I wondered if (y/n) had ever attempted to be flirty with Henry. She lived with him, and I saw her cling to him like a childish idiot wanting attention. Her attitude towards him was very disrespectful and arrogant. The only times I really spoke to her were around others, either Henry or Clare. She was at least friendly and welcoming around Henry, but boundaries didn't seem to be a thing for her. Often in uncomfortable clothing in the house. I found her special in her own little way. I don't care that she lives differently from me; it was what I heard that made me sick with her. She had no boundaries in people's relationships. She had no goals and was a freeloader. She clearly never saw true hardship in her life; she was only a spoiled, childish brat with a way to present herself to others.

"Clare is drifting to sleep." (Y/n) pointed out, never seeming to be talking to anyone in particular with her eyes glued to the fire as it danced and waved within the night.

"Honey, are you okay?" William looked at Clare softly, slightly disrupting her sleep by moving his arm. She jumped awake, yawning as she nodded.

"Sorry," she yawned, stretching her arms out. "Today was so fun that it tired me out."

"Everyday does." Clare only hit William on the arm lightly, William murmured. "I'm not wrong, but if you're that tired, we can go home." I disliked how he spoke to her; it had hints of mockery but was over all hidden within a soft, cold voice. He seemed to have his issues, but according to Henry, he's not much of a people person and likes his privacy. Henry had weird friends, and even then I felt like the odd one out, trying to understand what was normal for these people. Henry seemed so normal, but he must have suspected something was off with his friends. Right? He wasn't that clueless to not notice how his friends acted. Offhand comments, cheeky remarks, and even the tension between Y/N and William Has it always been this way? To the point that Henry has never thought anything about it? Maybe with what I overheard—the moans and giggles—I might have a different context than what Henry may have.

Then again, I don't know them like Henry did. He understood the normal and seemed fine with how they went on.

"I'm sorry." Clare sighed, getting up to stretch.

"It's barely 8." William glanced up at her, seeming confused about how she could be so tired already.

"Yes, nearly 8. We had this conversation, and we leave when I'm tired. You agreed."

"I'm not arguing with you; I'm only telling you the time. I'm only confused, that's all. "How are you tired this early?" William got defensive, looking up at her. "You are never this tired this early."

"Clare, darling, are you having sleeping issues?" I asked, concerned as well, only knowing she went to bed around 11ish, but I didn't think much of it as that was a reasonable time to go to bed. Though I knew she did nothing all day every day with responsibilities or interests to do to make her tired, She sat there, being force fed by (Y/n), who sat and ate half of what she couldn't eat, but (Y/n) overfed her.

"This is what happens to you. I told you, but you never listen to me." (Y/n) shook her head in disapproval, disappointed in Clare's choices. Shaming her.