Two weeks later
Adalia was in bed.
She was attempting to sleep, keyword; attempting.
She kept thinking over and over about Wilbur.
She's completely certain she dislikes him - but that's bad. He's moved down on her scale of how much she hates a person.
And he has a slight reason to do with why she can't listen to 50% of the album folklore by Taylor swift.
She groans loudly and stares at her ceiling, her head aching as her eyes scan over the ceiling with a worried expression on her face.
She hates this.
Adalia pushes her self upwards and throws back the covers of the bed, slipping onto the cold wooden floor and getting changed into sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt, putting in headphones as she grabs her keys and leaves the apartment.
She walks through London at 3 am and she's not even scared - she would normally be, but right now her mind is already worrying her enough the thought of getting mugged or kidnapped is far away in the back of her mind.
Almost everywhere is closed and she just finds a bench beside the Thames.
She looks up and it's the same place Wilbur used to record himself playing the guitar and she feels tears well up in her eyes as she glosses over the area.
She sniffles and starts crying, hot tears running down her face as she fidgets with her hands. She stays staring, shaking wnd she can't look away. Just like when she was at Wilbur's band gig.
She does eventually look away, but it takes a good few moments, pain pinging in her chest as she sniffles again - trying to get her cries to settle down.
She's glad she has a day off, she won't have to work while tired.
Adalia Stands up and turns away from the river, putting headphones in and playing folklore by Taylor swift - oh well, she's already crying about Wilbur, even if she relates a bit too hard to the song right where you left me.
Adalia decides to walk to her paint studio - she feels rain start to fall gently onto her hair, she groans in dissatisfaction. Hee brows furrowed together as she walks in the rain without a jacket to cover her.
Her studio - thankfully - isn't too far away.
She walks quickly as she feels the rain come down harsher, and harsher. She shivers underneath the harsh patter of the rain, fumbling with her keys as she makes it to the studio and opens the main front door, shutting it behind her.
The building manager doesn't care what time anyone comes in at, as long as they lock up afterwards.
She climbs the stairs, her shoes squeaking as she holds onto the railing on the steps. She doesn't fancy falling down the stairs and breaking her neck today, maybe on a different day.
She opens the door to the studio and immediately turns on the heater and she climbs onto the window bed she installed. It's really just a big open window sill with a small single ikea bookshelf turned onto its side with a mini foam mattress and a crap ton of blankets.
She kicks off her soaking wet converse that have too many holes in them, and tucks them away.
She changes from her long sleeved t Shirt into a jumper she had left two days before. She just has to deal with damp sweatpants for now.
She climbs onto the 'bed' and snuggles underneath the blankets, finding a pillow to rest her head on as she watched the rain splash down onto the floor below, splashing back up after its impact onto the concrete below.
YOU ARE READING
AS LONG AS YOU CALL ME || W.S
Fanfiction-- WONT BE FINISHED -- It's been four years. Adalia has just been getting over it all and forcing herself head on to her busy painting career while attempting to write on the side, the past four years flew by for her and she forgot Will Gold had eve...
