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WILBURPOV
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I sleepily lie my head against the cold window of Y/N's car's passenger side door. Joe was already fast asleep, the seven donuts left in the box on his lap were close to falling out. Y/N was silently driving as I watched her in the reflection of the window, but soon my eyes unfocused on her and instead focused on my face. I quickly jump up in my seat, Y/N glances at me before continuing to stare at the road.
I rub my eyes with my palms, turning my head away from the window and instead staring at my lap. "You okay?" Y/N asks, I couldn't hear the concern in her voice. But I wouldn't be concerned for someone who had been disrespecting me for the past thirty minutes either.
I cross my arms, still avoiding her eyes. "I.. I'm scared of mirrors.. just-- my reflection in general.." I hesitantly admit.
"You're scared of a pretty face?" She chuckles, I lift my head and stare at her confused, either I really just didn't understand or I was still pretty drunk, I mean.. Joe did pay me a good amount to down a vodka. "I'm calling you pretty, Wilbur.." she explains for me.
"Oh" I bluntly reply. "Well.. no, if I was afraid of pretty faces I wouldn't even be able to look your way" I grin, a yawn ruining my smugness immediately after. I stretch, my forearms hitting the ceiling of the car, showing how tall I (or how small the car) really was.
She glances at me again, this time for longer. "Why are you afraid of mirrors..?" She brings up the topic again. I look over my shoulder at Joe, checking to see if he's asleep. "Or are you to scared to tell me?" She adds, stopping at a red light even though no one was around.
"How so?" I rest back in my seat, leaning my shoulder against the window and turning my body towards her.
Y/N shrugs. "I'm just asking, are you to scared to tell someone about your biggest fear and why you developed it?" She starts driving again when the light turns green.
I take in a deep breath. "I was always called weedy and frail-- I was bullied a lot too. That didn't make me scared of mirrors that just made me hate how I looked" I admit, maybe I was still drunk, I knew that if I was sober I would never tell Y/N about how I really felt-- how my life really is.
