Delicate

Chapter 4

You guys thought I wouldn't update again today hehe. Don't forget to comment❤.

Lmfaoo the heart is sideways. It's fucking sideways. Please tell me I'm not the only one seeing this. OMFG I CAN'T BREATHE.🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 LMFAO THEY ARE ALL SIDEWAYS

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William's P.O.V

I shake my hips side to side as I hold up one of my shirts in front of me. I'd positioned two lamps to perfectly to shine on them at this angle so I could see their prints. I smile widely when I see the blurred yellow symbol, my mind filling in the rest to identify one of my favourites.

I throw the shirt into the keep pile before picking up the next. I was leaving in a couple days and managed to get everything sorted but my clothes, the shirts being the last to be tackled.

Like with the rest of my clothes when packing, there was a leave pile and a keep pile. The task was almost a complete waste of time, seeing as the leave pile had less than twenty shirts.

So I like to hoard shit, sue me.

"When there's nothing to lose and nothing to prove," I sing as I move my feet in rhythm with the song, "and I'm dancing with my with myself."

I glance across at Sassy who I find sleeping in a ball on my bed, she fell asleep when the first shirt hit the floor. I didn't really blame her, seeing as the house was deadly quiet at the time.

Mother left, as she did every night, to be with father in the apartment he was staying in. All the house staff had left besides Francis who refused to leave me alone in the large house at night.

I made sure to thank him constantly for staying without me having to beg him to do so. He was one of the nice ones, I knew I should trust him, he was a great person. But I couldn't. So my bedroom door remained locked with him in a room of his own and a knife tucked beneath my pillow.

It was so quiet. Too quiet, too still. It let me think about things I didn't want to and back to moments I didn't need to.

That's why I started playing some music, saving me from the black hole of fear I was being dragged into. I was at least enjoying the task of packing more than I ought to, so that was something.

My job was simply to gather everything I wanted to take with me, mother demanded that I did nothing further. She'd arranged for one of the gardeners to box it all up tomorrow, which left me here, reeling the night before to pack everything.

Yes, she did tell me about it over a week ago, but I was a professional procrastinator.

Procrastinator and hoarder, sue me twice if you like, cause I'm the full package.

At the end of it, I was leaving. Leaving my parent's home and making a start somewhere else, all on my own. The thought sounded misplaced in my mind as if it was incomprehensible, but it was my new reality.

A few months ago, before my life took a deep dive, my parents would never have allowed me to leave the city, let alone the state, alone. Now, getting me out of the house and away from any watchful eyes seemed to be their greatest priority, father's in particular.

He'd basically pumped my account with more money that I knew what to do with so that I would just go and live somewhere else.

"I just want him out of my house." He'd said to mother through the phone, she didn't realise I heard. I doubt it would've made a difference if she had, her biggest priority was pleasing father and his biggest priority was putting his 'faggot of a son' somewhere he wouldn't have to see him.