Your Smile - Tommyinnit x Reader

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Edited.

Song of the Day: Your New Boyfriend by Wilbur Soot

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"Come on, y/n. Just one bite?" Wilbur asks, placing another piece of steak into his mouth.

I clench the fork in my hand, hoping it would break. "No."

I sigh, placing the fork down lightly on the table.

Tommy left about an hour ago. Things turned sour from there. I don't feel like talking to anyone and I don't want to do anything but sulk in my bed. It's unhealthy but I don't want to eat, even if I do eat, I think I might throw it up unintentionally. I can't stomach anything right now.

Wilbur sets down his own utensils and looks up at me. "Y/n, I understand that you're hurting but I need you to please eat-"

My fist connects with the table, creating a loud bang. "I said I'm not fucking hungry Wilbur." I stand from my seat and storm off to my room pissed off.

To be honest, I have no reason to be so upset with him, he's anything but mean to me. He made me my favorite meal, steak, and mashed potatoes. He even rented my favorite movie, y/f/m.

I feel bad but I can't take back my anger now. I'll just sit in my room and cry about it. That's what I'm doing now, it has become a regular routine.

Every day somehow I end up in my room or outside in tears. I don't know how I even have more tears left, I honestly thought that they were all gone. But yet here I am laying on my bed with my head in a pillow sobbing.

Sometimes it's for hours or just a minute. I guess it's based on what thoughts are running through my head.

There are instances where past problems entered and I begin to overthink them as if they were happening again. Or I start to think of all the learning defects I have like ADD or short-term memory loss and how that's affecting my life. I like to think about how life would be different without them. Maybe I wouldn't have the challenges I do today with remembering where I placed things or focusing on studying for a driving test.

Tonight I think about fullness. Loneliness to be exact. At this moment there's no one here to hug. I think of calling Tommy but he's probably asleep. Wilbur is most likely annoyed at me and everyone else is asleep too.

I don't want to shut everyone out, and I do want to eat. My mind is telling me not to and gave my stomach the signals like I might throw up. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday but I am racing towards the toilet, afraid vomit may get on the floor.

I clutch the sides of the toilet seat as I dry heave into it but nothing comes up but bile. My tears slow as my stomach calms down from the confusion. I'm not sick, I'm just tired of being hurt and the pain. It's like when you cry so much and you're trying to muffle it that you think you're going to throw up from breathing in too deeply as if your insides would come out. It's scary.

12:34 AM

It's so late, but I'm not tired. I stay next to the bowl of the toilet in case.

It isn't too long until I hear the soft hum of y/f/m from downstairs. Its call is beckoning. I know what's down there. Wilbur. He knows what he's doing and he knows I'll fail to keep my stubborn wall up. He knows I'll cave in.

He knows me too well.

I stand up, my hands still shaking. I steady myself, placing a hand on my forehead to ease the headache from all of the crying and heaving.

Slowly but surely I open the door, turn on the light and step out of the bathroom. The light from the TV reflects off the walls creating a comforting warm glow.

I step down each stair carefully, hoping I don't fall.

Then I reach the hardwood floor, my blanket tags along behind me as my right-hand grips it.

Wilbur sits there on the couch with a bowl of popcorn huddled into the corner of the sofa. The dishes have been cleaned and my dinner that remained untouched is discarded. The counters have been wiped and erased of any notion that a meal was cooked on the surface. The lights no longer burn like an hour ago but have been extinguished from any sort of energy that once crossed through the strings of metal. It looks as if nothing happened.

Wilbur fails to notice my presence, or maybe he ignores it. I choose not to dwell on it. Instead, my feet carry themselves over to the couch and sit a foot away from him. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and grip the corners tightly in my hands to conserve warmth.

Minutes go by and the movie's plot is introduced and the scenes change. Then the tense wall is broken.

Wilbur extends his arm toward me moving his fingers inward persuading a hug.

I don't hesitate to scoot closer and let his arms wrap around my shoulders.

"I know it's hard, y/n. I lost my brother and mom in a fire too. Take your time to heal, I'm here if you need me. I care about you." He says softly to not interrupt the movie.

At his words, I untangle my arms from my blanket and wrap them around him too. "I'm sorry about your brother and mom. Also, I'm sorry about tonight, I didn't mean to be so mean."

"Don't worry about it. I understand what you're going through. You can talk to me if you want. I'm here, y/n."

His words are soft and meaningful, they touch my heart in a different way than anyone else's. It's not fuzzy or heating like Tommy's words or tickling like Alex's and Karl's. It's like air.

Air that gives my lungs the space to breathe and air that is needed to live. I was drowning but I've been given oxygen.

I lean my head on his shoulder and listen to the movie as I slowly drift off into a much-needed sleep.

For the first time in a while, I feel at home.

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AAAAAAAA WILBY FLUFFFFF

Wtaer dirnk.

HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT!!!