\/ Suddenly: MCYT Preferences, Imagines And Oneshots \/

|> ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ, ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ <|Pt. 1 ❤

"Oh! Sorry, uh," He mistook my staring for irritation, moving to outside and holding the door open for me. "Here." I gathered myself fairly quickly, my heart screaming as I acknowledged the fact that this was probably the man playing the guitar every night. "Thanks," I murmured, moving forward. Ask him if he's the one playing guitar, dumba$$!! Right before I passed through I snapped my head back. "Actually, uhm, you're the one always playing guitar out here at sunset, right?" I was surprised I had gotten the courage to ask, so I knew then and there I had to pay attention to what he was saying in order not to sound like a fool. "Ah, yes; is it bothering you?" His eyes wandered around as his free hand rubbed against his neck. "Oh, no, not at all! Much rather I enjoy it. Er, I came out here to listen to you play, but it seems I came too early." I had turned my body at this point, beginning to feel guilty for having him hold the door open for so long. The man shuffled on his feet, prying the door further open. It was obvious he'd been expecting a more harsh answer, not such a kind one. "Well then, would you like to join me?"

I blinked at him, a bit of shock filtering into my blood stream and making me question why he had invited me. I doubted he could tell I was having a bad day, so why had he invited me to his practicing? "Sure!" Yet I found myself agreeing with a little smile, joy filling my heart to know I wouks finally get to hear his talent without the muffling of the door. I walked back onto the gravel, following him as he sat in the same stop I had been moments ago. As he sat, back to the sunset, laying his case on the ground and gingerly taking out his guitar, he coughed. "I must admit something myself; I saw you out here and was trying to get the courage to talk to you, but it was taking little longer than I had hoped." The brunette awkwardly plucked at his strings, mindlessly tuning his guitar as I chuckled. "That's fine. I'll be honest too- I usually listen to you play from the stairway, because I've been too scared to bother you while you play." "Oh you'd hardly be a bother, it's gets a little lonely out here when I'm singing all to myself." His words reassured me as much as his smile, and such a warm smile it was. "Well there must be a name that goes with the voice, right?" I asked this timidly, and he responded, "The name's Wilbur, and yours?" "Y/N." "It's lovely to make your acquaintance, Y/N." Wilbur stuck out a hand. His gingerbread eyes met mine, and I could've sworn ny heart sped up when we shook hands. "And you, Wilbur."

As he tuned his guitar, I asked some questions. Which I hoped he'd think were normal, since I was sitting out there with him. "How long have you been playing guitar?" "Ever since I was a teenager. It's always been something I've enjoyed." A fond smile made its way onto his face. "Oh? How old are you now, if you don't mind me asking?" "I don't mind- I'm 25 years currently. How old are you?" I found his way of speaking to be polite, delicate. Like he making sure he didn't say anything rude or out of his place. I glanced towards the sunset, admiring the clouds as I muttered, "I turned 23 not too long ago." "Oh, was your.. birthday, earlier this month?" His little pauses made my heart skip a beat but uncertainty was tying knots in my guts. I practically led myself into this conversation- crap. "It's today- my birthday, I mean." It went a little silent, and when I looked back at him he was searching my face, which took me by surprise. "Is there something on my face?" "No, no, nothing. Do you, uh, celebrate your birthday?" "Usually. I was, going to celebrate with some friends but, hah, they were too busy." I was starting to regret sitting with him, but I couldn't back out now. I still wanted to hear him sing, no matter how sad I was.

"I see. . ." Wilburs voice went soft, and as he began to pluck the strings of his guitar I eat he'd his fingers wind into a lovely melody I'd heard before. "This is chicken tendies by Clinton Kane, is it not?" I scooched closer to him, enjoying the beat my feet created to go along with the intro. Wilbur looked up a little, seeing my foot as it tapped along. "It is indeed." I went silent, preparing myself, knowing what was to come.

I saw someone who looks just like you
In the back seat, with her hand out the sunroof,
I swear it was the dress that I gave you
And I wonder, is your favorite color still blue?