𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲| Wilbur Soot x Reader ✔︎

xxiii

"Oh, so now you wish you'd never even— you know what? Fine, see if I care," Wilbur stormed off to the room they had shared for a few nights, slamming the door behind him.

y/n stays stuck to her spot, staring at the ground with blurry sight as a few loose tears fell. "I'm so fucked..."

In all honesty, the reason emotionally damaging a soulmate was such taboo, is because when soulmates find each other and gain their marks, if they split, both go into large pits of depression.

Hence why y/n was always so regretful of throwing the man out, or making him leave her sights; she was scared.

But when you cut your mark off, getting rid of your connection, the pain is a lot less. It's more often than not dimmed to the feeling of a normal breakup, something a lot of people could handle.

But this was beginning to be too much.

Someone was dead, literally; not just a Minecraft game. No, they were dead.

Just the thought of it was making the h/c haired woman choke on air, the sweet images she held of Wilbur melting into something deranged and grotesque.

She could hear banging and slams coming from inside her room, but y/n ignored it, fully aware that if she interrupted him now, it would only end bad for her.

She's quick to pick up her cellphone and put it to her ear, having clicked on a familiar contact. "Hello?"

"Lea, could I come over tonight?"

The friend gasps a little, hearing the wavering in her friends voice. "Of course! I'll have everything cleaned up by the time you get here; the place is a little dirty."

y/n smiles a little while hanging up, standing from her seat to go grab her keys and purse, slowly putting the bag on with sluggish motions.

Wilbur was still stomping around, so she didn't say anything, just wrote out a small sticky note to slap on the kitchen counter instead.

And with that, she was gone.

☁︎︎

Wilbur hadn't stopped throwing things around, his hands slamming into the bed to avoid making holes in his soulmates walls.

Hangers and shoes tossed about the small space with the bed covers pulled up and askew. "Fucking soulmate bullshit! I did it for her! I didn't kill the fucker! Dammit! Shit!"

After another long slew of curses Wilbur slumps his shoulders, both his head and arms screaming in pain from throwing and punching at everything with past adrenaline.

"I didn't mean it... I— not her. I never meant to hurt her. The people who betrayed me or ignored me... sure, why not. But not y/n. I can't even imagine it."

After taking a few more breaths, he decided he'd go out and apologize, hopefully get some kind words in and make her feel like the amazing woman she is.

That was the plan.

But when Wilbur stepped out to see the apartment empty and a yellow note stuck to the counter, he felt a few emotion changes.

His legs drag him to the note slowly, and he reads it over with precision, making sure to retain all the words.

'I need a break. I'll be back, so don't throw a hissy fit and wreck my house, cause I'll kill you. Just... take some time to think about this; think about us. It's what I'm doing.'

He stands still, before letting his head hit the wall in front of him with a hiss, his multitude of injuries making him want to cry out.

"Fucking dumbass afterlife bullshit— what the fuck!"

☁︎︎

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