hold my hand [w.s]

help me forget [006]

-=-=-

The way his hands trembled and shook with every letter he typed into his phone made a stab of frustration splatter into his gut. It certainly didn't help that he was walking as he frantically texted, nor did it help that his vision was blurred with unshed tears.

Wilbur felt pain throughout his entire body, but it wasn't a dangerous pain per se. It was more so just a tug at the lower half of his lungs, or a thick feeling in his stomach - things he knew wouldn't warrant a doctor's appointment but still made him question his own health.

Though, he supposed, feeling as though he was just some heavy storm cloud filled with way too much water was an acceptable response to being dumped.

Oh, now that his brain had drifted away from typing and back to the actual situation, the blurriness in his eyes seemed to increase alongside his quivering body. God, this fucking sucked. None of this was fair, why did it have to be him?

Though Wilbur was quite certainly not at fault, and though the breakup was more or less mutual, he still wanted all of the blame put on him to avoid his partner feeling bad. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he cared too much for people, maybe taking on all of the hard parts in relationships instead of sharing them was taking too much of a toll on his mental health.

Or maybe he was just some stupid kid who didn't deserve what he was given. Because god, he didn't deserve her. Niki. Niki, Niki, Niki. She was so wonderful and sweet - like the strawberries atop vanilla icing on pastel cakes. Like the chocolate drizzled along deserts or the cream added to a recipe. Wilbur couldn't help but find himself admiring her from afar - and, eventually, admiring her close-up.

Though, now, as he collapsed on a bus stop seat beside a deserted road at 1:27am, he started to doubt himself.

What a horrible thing that was. Doubt. It always seemed to creep into his mind with every decision, looming under his eyelids with every word. Especially when he was alone to his thoughts, and especially in the dreary hours of the night where the breeze bit too hard and the streetlights seemed too surreal.

Wilbur had to force himself to avert his attention back to his phone, the message he'd typed out still half written and unsent. With a small sniff, trying to pull himself together, he finished the message.

WilburSoot

Hey, don't mean to bother you this late at night, but I didn't know who else to message. Can I come over for a bit? I need distraction

The thick drip of that doubt ran down his back as he watched the screen, anxiety seeping through his blood stream and staining his flesh. What were the chances he'd even get a response? What if he'd gone to sleep? What if- oh, he replied.

jschlatt

yeah, 'course. what happened?

Wilbur hummed to himself, already knowing he would get a similar text but becoming uncomfortable by it anyway. He stood, tapping his foot as he glanced around before continuing his walk.

There wasn't a lot of distance left because he was already halfway to Schlatt's house when he realized he should probably text before showing up. As he went he rubbed his eyes, typing back a reply with one hand.

WilburSoot

I'll tell you when I get there

His mind kept going back to her. Fuck, it'd barely been any time and he was already missing her so, so much.

A mutual breakup.

That's what he had to keep reminding himself. It was mutual, he didn't like her like that anymore. They'd both fallen out of love, and it was mutual.