Darkstache Mini-Stories

Story One

Alright nerds, here's the first thing I'm posting on this godforsaken website after literally four years of not making any content. This first story is set in the time before the other egos existed, and Dark and Wilford were on their own in an apartment.
The sound of the door closing was enough to startle Dark awake, they rolled over to glance at the clock on their bedside table, and saw the time scrawled across. 3:27 in the morning. Who the hell would be out so late?
Wilford Warfstache was who. He stumbled into their shared kitchen and placed the grocery bag on the counter, fumbling around for a spoon, and when he turned, he didn't expect to see Dark standing in the doorway. Which, of course, made him jump.
"Jesus, Dark. You can't just startle me like that." They couldn't help but smile at his reaction, cracking their neck with a sigh. Wil pulled a container of vanilla ice cream out of the bag and placed it on the counter, continuing his search.
"God, I swear, I can never find anything in this house." Dark decided to help their friend, walk behind him and pull open the drawer closest to the sink, where all the silverware was neatly sorted. "Are you alright?" They raised an eyebrow, looking at him with confusion.
He sighed as he pulled out what he needed, turning to the other. "I wanted ice cream." That was quite obvious from the container on the counter, which made Dark laugh to themself. "Wilford, it's three in the morning."
"When has that ever stopped me?" They tried to think of a time when late hours did ever stop him...And they couldn't. Wilford was more of a night owl, stay up and go out to parties, but Dark was the opposite. Stay home, sleep, make fun of the terrible programs on television.
"Point made." Wil had taken the lack of response as a win on his part, and he picked up his ice cream with a triumphant look as he made his way over to the couch. "...Can I have some?" They didn't know what spurred them to ask, maybe it was how happy he had looked, maybe they knew they wouldn't get back to sleep anyway.
Whatever the reason, Wilford turned to them with a small smile and pat the seat beside him. "Grab a spoon." So they did just that before they made their way to the couch and sat beside the man, who set the container between them and leaned back against the pillows.
"I don't think people care about me." It was a sentence that made their chest burn, where did this come from? "Why on earth would you think that, Wil?" He sighed as he took a spoonful of ice cream, as if to avoid the question, but they knew Wilford wasn't one to keep secrets.
"I...Don't know. It's just a feeling, I guess. It doesn't make any sense, I mean...I have you, don't I?" He turned to them with what seemed to be pleading eyes, and Dark couldn't help but smile and nod in agreement, which made Wil smile back. They took a spoonful of liquid sugar too. "The more time I spend with you, the less I feel like a monster."
If this was going to be a mini therapy session, they may as well share some things too. They had another spoonful before Wilford could ask any questions. "You aren't a monster." They snorted at the response, as if it were some kind of sick joke, which made the other sit up in his seat.
"I mean it, Dark, you aren't a monster." All they could do was shrug in response as Wilford looked over their face with a mask of concern. "Damn well feels like it." He frowned at that, moving the container out of the way as he laid across their lap, which was startling, but not unwelcome.
"You wanna talk?" A sigh, and then a gentle nod yes, as Dark laid their spoon on the table next to the melting ice cream. "Sure, why not."
~
A gentle knock on the door was all it took to pull Wilford from his rest, and he knew there was only one person in this chaotic house who cared enough to knock before coming in. "Yeah?" His voice was soft, and yet he knew it was enough of an "okay" for Dark to enter.
"I made dinner." Wil had been facing away from them, curled up in a ball on his bed and wrapped up in a bundle of blankets. "I'm not hungry." There was a sigh in response as the other man heard the bed creek, and he knew Dark had sat down, but he shrugged away the cold hand they had placed on his shoulder.
"Please, Wilford, I haven't seen you all day. You didn't even send me a message, I just want to know what's wrong..." He heard the rustling of a bag, which made him turn to face them, and watched as they pulled out a container of vanilla ice cream, placing it on the bed and putting a plastic spoon on top of it.
They knew if he were to refuse ice cream, something was really wrong. But he didn't, he sat up, blanket draped around his shoulders, and put the cold container in his lap. The lack of response to their question still made Dark frown.
They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the faint ringing that always echoed around them, and watching as Wil ate his ice cream. When Dark couldn't stand to sit still anymore, they made their way to the door, plastic bag in hand, but just as they were about to leave-
"Wait..."
-A faint voice called them back. "There's a lot of things wrong..." Despite the sentence, Dark smiled softly as they turned and sat on the bed, patting their lap. "You wanna talk about it?" The call back to a night so many years ago was enough to make Wilford laugh, and he laid down with the container beside him.
"Sure, why not."