Unpredictable | Wilbur Soot Angst

Relax

TW: Panic attack, abuse

A/N: HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK U SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING!!!  This chapter is purely platonic, and (in my opinion) has a good mixture of fluff and angst :) (I like smiley faces in case you can't tell)

 Will's was terrified. He was coming for him, it was his fault. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have done that. Wait, what did he do? It didn't matter. Get away. Don't move. Stay there. You deserve this. Run. Get help. Stay. It's your punishment. Don't make it worse. All of the conflicting messages kept him frozen in place. Everything seemed muffled, muffled but amplified ten fold. Something caught his eye, movement. It was coming towards him. Somehow a warning got to his head and he recoiled. Moving back into what he assumed was a corner.

"Please..." He whispered, and braced for the worst. The blows came from everywhere. Each hit harder than the last. Hands grasped him and he started to flail, but they wouldn't let go. His breathing quickened, but that's when Will realized, the blows had stopped.

Slowly he regained his senses, a hand was resting on his back, moving in slow calming circles. Whispering in his ear, telling him it was gonna be OK, that they would get through this. That it wasn't his fault. That no one would hurt him. Gradually, his heart stopped pounding, his breathing became even.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Hey, look at me, mate." hesitantly, Willbur met Phil's eyes. "I am not mad, I am not going to hurt you. It is not your fault. Yeah?" He nodded shakily, and Phil smiled. It was a small gesture, but it meant so much.

-

It had been a couple hours since the incident that morning, and since then Phil had gone out of his way to make sure all of the alcohol in the house was outside in the trash (the expensive wines were given to family and friends). The guitar he had ordered earlier was set to arrive sometime within the next week, and things were looking... up? Wilbur had calmed down significantly, and was now chilling on the couch. They both were.

Eventually, Phil found it in himself to get up and prepare lunch, "Do you want anything in particular?" Wilbur shook his head, so he went into the kitchen and grabbed some meat, cheese, and bread. After the meal was made, Philza brought it over to the couch, not caring about the unspoken rule not to. Handing the younger male his plate, they ate silently, Will only managing to eat half of his.

Afterwards, Phil reached for the remote, "Have any favorites?" Wilbur simply shrugged, so he put one of Tommy's older videos: "Minecraft's Lava Ravine Mod is actually funny..." Will chuckled lightly, but didn't comment.

After the video was over (Phil was proud to say he got Wilbur laughing and smiling several times), they selected another, and another. Before they knew it, it was dinner time. Phil grabbed some leftovers from a previous night and stuck it in the microwave. After they ate they both settled down on the couch, and slowly drifted off.

Completely random, but I have been wondering what makes people comment more vs less. Like some stories have like hundreds of comments, and other stories (with the same amount of views) have like, five. Anyways, thank u for reading, have a nice day :)