Chapter 8 The Best Christmas

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Quick A/N: If it isn't noticeable within the story, my intentions were to make the reader be able to emotionally connect with y/n and to really relate to them, displaying insecurities, fears and even how an individual responds to trauma, as it gives y/n a more "real" feel. Eventually, I want to make the readers reel away from it as y/n eventually becomes their own person, meaning the readers would no longer want to associate themselves with y/n after the things they've done. Here's an example. Let's say you're playing a game and someone offers you a potato. The player typically says "aw they're giving ME a potato!" until the character you play as kills the character offering them a potato, the player usually responds with "Why did YOU do that".

Part I

December 14th was the day I actually applied for a job. After all, I wanted to stop relying on William for everything despite him encouraging me to. I didn't want to make him feel as if I was draining him of his energy, and I didn't want to ruin his mental health either. Despite all of that, I needed to develop more responsibility anyway. I can't just rely on one person for all of my problems and struggles. I applied for a job as a mixologist, since making drinks had always been a secret knack of mine, since hiding alcohol from my parents meant that it had to be used; Meaning that if they found empty bottles, they would've thought they were the ones who drank it.

My parents were always extremely strict, and I thank them for that. As odd as that sounds, they've taught me things only a mastermind or a genius could teach. The art of invisible strength; The art of debate and manipulation.

On December 17th, I awoke, my body residing beside William within his bed. I turned to face his sleeping body. He looked at peace and at ease. I admired his broad shoulders and his strong arms. I got closer to him and rested my head against his chest, before feeling him unconsciously wrap an arm around me. His natural body temperature was always oddly cold; At times I thought he was anaemic. As much as I wanted to stay by William's side for the rest of my life, I knew I couldn't. He has a job, I do as well. Sometimes, it feels as if the only cure to my suffering was him. He had been the only person who dragged me out of that living nightmare I suffered, trapped within for so long. He was the one who freed me of my emotional prison I resided in for days and weeks, as those weeks led into years. I used to describe people who have a "colourful" perspective on the world as "ignorant". Despite that, I now have a more colourful view on the world, rather than a monotonous one. Because I was truly happy. With William, I'd been indulging into some kind of addiction.We'd been developing codependency.

Loving him had been the most magnificent form of self destruction; Feeling myself untangle to his words as he rewired my brain so I could fit into what he wanted; A puppet.

That ideology didn't bother me. What matters to me, is whether he loves me or not. Since I saw him vulnerable that one day, I'm certain that answered my question. He does; He just doesn't know how to properly express his love; And neither do I.

I began to feel tired within his grasp, barely clinging to consciousness as William quietly groaned before fluttering open his eyes.

"Goodmorning, my love" William murmured, pausing for a moment in an attempt to wake up more.

"Goodmorning, William" I hummed before looking up at him and smiling.

The man grew a smirk on his face without saying a word.

"Why're you smiling? Do I look funny?" I questioned as William smiled and shook his head. I felt his hands gently trail upon my body, before wiggling his fingers. I shot up and laughed in reaction to the man tickling me; his hands travelling all over my body. Throughout this, William had ended up residing on top of me, planting kisses upon my body as he continued to tickle me. He had me pinned down (somehow) while still using his hands to continue tickling me. In an attempt to protest, I tickled the side of his waist. He laughed and collapsed on top of me in reaction. The tickling stopped as he'd been resting on me. I felt his hands search around the bed before finding mine. He held my hand and looked up at me and smiled.

Catharsis of the lilies (William Afton x Reader)حيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن