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LOSERS !
"JUST MAKING SURE..." Cynthia said, placing her bag on the mattress. "It's fine for me to stay here? I mean, your flatmates—"
"Don't mind," he interrupted. "Seriously, it's fine. It's only for...tonight, right?"
She nodded her head slowly. "Yes. But, Will, are you sure—"
Wilbur sighed and held up a hand. "I said it's fine, and that's that. I checked with Dave and the others, and they're alright with it. Quit being so nervous."
The two made it back to Wilbur's apartment complex and Cynthia was shown to the guest bedroom; a standard room with bare white walls, a small double bed with a grey comforter set, and a bare black desk. Cynthia sat wearily on the bed, Wilbur leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets, and his glasses pushed up against the bridge of his nose.
"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled, waving a hand. "I just didn't think you'd let me stay that easily and—" Cynthia shook her head. "Oh, whatever."
Wilbur raised an eyebrow but asked no further questions. "Are you hungry?" He asked, getting up from his spot on the door frame. "I can order something, if you'd like."
Cynthia merely shook her head. "I could do with a drink," she admitted. "Water or something."
"On it," he bobbed his head and left the room, going to grab a water bottle for Cynthia.
After Wilbur's footsteps faded upstairs, she fell backwards onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Her hand fiddled with the hem of her blue hoodie before her thoughts were interrupted by a ringtone.
She reached into her pockets and pulled out her buzzing phone. Tommy was trying to call her.
"Hello?" Cynthia answered.
Tommy greeted her back and tapped his desk impatiently. "Are you heading home now? I mean, to your place."
"Oh—" She chuckled awkwardly. "I'm staying at Will's for the night. I didn't exactly feel like..." Cynthia hesitated, "I dunno, sitting in the car for another four hours."
Her younger brother gave his phone an odd look but continued on. "Y'know," Tommy started, leaning back into his chair, "you and Wilbur've been hanging out a lot..." he said skeptically. "Are you two...I dunno, up to something? Secretly dating?"
Cynthia choked, a mixture between a laugh and a surprised noise. "Why would you—" She shook her head, sitting up on the bed. "No, we're not secretly together, Tom. Even if we were, I'd be more discrete."
Wilbur made his way downstairs, a cold water bottle in hand. "—ot dating! Tom, I swear to god—" Cynthia's voice came from the room, and a smile cracked onto his face.
