Not a Fan (Wilbur Soot)

Do-Overs

Wilbur pulled his head away from her door, retreating back into the solitude of his empty flat. The echo of her sleepy voice haunted the air, reminding him of moments that would be a faded romanticized memory in due time. 

The thought of what her soft lips would feel like against his own was something that hadn't left the back of his mind since their eyes first met in the store. How he could tilt her jaw to the sky, her soft features resting peacefully while he leaned in. 

He had imagined every detail of what it would be like. And there she was, practically follow the script verbatim. So why, why couldn't he follow through? 

Wilbur crash landed into his bed, his ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. Here he was, yet again, staying up late into the night overanalyzing all of his choices. How could someone he barely knew hold such power over him? He shifted underneath the heavy duvet, trying his best to fall asleep. 

The weight of the blanket reminded him of her hands, gracefully pressed to his chest. He kicked away the blanket in a desperate attempt to put his mind to rest. The cool air of the room, the pattering rain against his window, the stagnant smell of rose petals he was fairly certain he was just imagining at this point.

Wilbur woke to his phone ringing, Tommy's contact lighting his home screen. His apartment was still dark, thundering rain beating against the glass of his living room windows. Wilbur declined the call, pulling the duvet he had once discarded around him. His phone began ringing again, Tommy trying effortlessly to talk to him. 

Wilbur begrudgingly grabbed his phone, pulling it underneath the covers with him. 

"What is it Tom." Wilbur said flatly. 

"You alright?" Tommy's voice was quiet, like he somehow already had knowledge of Wilbur's shortcoming.

"Yeah, just fine. What could you possibly need at.. Nine in the morning?" Wilbur groaned, checking the hour for the first time. Rori didn't leave until after two and he didn't even want to know how long he spent tossing and turning, reimagining her disappointed face. 

"I'm streaming soon, you said you'd join?" Tommy didn't sound offended that Wilbur had clearly forgotten their plans, more so just concerned he'd forgotten at all. Wilbur had always been the punctual and responsible one. 

"I'm sorry mate, I'm really not feeling up to being live today. I'll catch the next one." Wilbur said flatly, sighing as he rubbed his forehead. He wished to retreat back to sleep. A sleep that brought dreams of him kissing Rori, picking her up and carrying her upstairs, feeling nothing but bliss as they spent the rest of the night together under warm sheets with soft smiles. 

"Wilbur, hop on discord and talk to me." Tommy urged. 

"Not today Tom. I'll catch up with you later." Wilbur brushed off Tommy's concern, hanging up the phone. He could handle this on his own, when he was ready. That time hadn't come yet. He still wanted a few more hours to wallow in self-pity before he started his day. 

Cold blankets, rain beating relentlessly against the windows, half dead phone battery, and her contact pulled up on his screen- nothing to say coming to mind. This was Wilbur's personal hell. He only ever got this far, half-romances that fizzled out before anything could happen. Perhaps it was better this way. 

"Right, probably for the best." Her defeated words rang in his ears like a reminder, a warning even. They had more to consider after all. There was Niki, the fact they're neighbors, how both of them could probably use a friend more than anything else right now. Maybe it was for the best that nothing happened. 

If that was true, why couldn't he get out of his head? Why was he confined to his sheets like restraints were holding him in place. His only free movement was his thumbing sliding across his phone's screen, searching for any clip he hadn't seen of her yet. He had already rewatched the entirety of Niki's stream with her, memorizing every word to the song she performed.