The Cube SMP Imagines

Flatmates (Kiingtong)

A/N: This imagine was inspired by a series of tweets Will sent out one night (the first tweet in this is taken directly from his twitter) I have a second part to this one already written, so please leave a vote on this chapter if you want me to post it!! Also, I have a Pokediger1 imagine in the works right now. Requests are always open!! 

You woke up to a loud banging noise from across the flat, accompanied by screaming. You checked the time on your phone, the white numbers reading 2:58. You listened for a moment more, used to being woken up by your best friend's bursts of laughter. You could tell he wasn't talking to his online friends though, so you pulled yourself out of bed and slid your feet into your slippers. You crossed the hallway (your flat wasn't very big) and knocked on his door. You heard the banging again, so you took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Your flat mate wasn't at his desk, like you had assumed he would be. He was actually fast asleep, in a tangle of blankets. You noticed his breathing was heavy, and as you took a step closer he let out another gasping scream.

"Will," you said timidly at first. He didn't acknowledge you were there, but he did thrash around again, kicking his desk at the foot of his bed in the process. You sat down on the edge of his bed, touching his shoulder.

"Will, wake up," you said to him, a bit louder this time, shifting his shoulder slightly. He mumbled something, then sat up with a start, gasping for breath. He brought his hands up and rubbed his eyes, then scratched the back of his neck.

"Hey," he said weakly, the corners of his lips pulling into a forced smile.

"You ok?" you asked, even though you knew he wasn't.

"Yeah (y/n), I'll be fine. Go back to sleep," he said, resting a hand on your knee. You could feel his fingers shaking though.

"Not after that. My adrenalines pumping, and I bet yours is too," you said, taking his hand in your own. His hands were clammy, cold and sweaty. Will just shrugged.

"I'm going to put the kettle on. Go wash your face and then you can join me," you said, squeezing his hand and standing up. Will swung his feet over the side of the bed, standing up but quickly grabbing your shoulder for support and cussing under his breath. You held his elbow, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"My feet," was all he managed to hiss out. You helped him into his bathroom, sitting him down on the closed toilet lid and switching on the light. Will swore again when he saw the long cuts and bruises that littered his pale feet. You pulled open his cabinet, searching for bandages. You tossed him a wad of gauze, then closed the cabinet.

"I can't find anything I need. I'll be right back," you said. You went across the flat to your bathroom, opening your cabinet where everything was perfectly organized, unlike Will's. You grabbed some antiseptic, more gauze, and some bandages. When you got back to Will, he was on Twitter.

@Kiingtong: just had the most intense nightmare I've had in a long time, maybe even ever. I'm still shaking with fear still ._.

You started tending to Will's cuts, pausing only when he'd sharply wince in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you said, doing my best to not hurt him.

@Kiingtong: luckily I have a wonderful flat mate @(y/t/n)

"There you go. Tea?" You asked Will, washing my hands after you finished bandaging his feet. Will glanced at you with tired eyes, then nodded. He stood up, holding onto your arm in the process. He ran a hand through his hair, then hobbled into the living room. You followed him slowly, making sure he was settled into an armchair, before going into the kitchen and putting the kettle on. While you waited for the water to heat up, you scrolled through Twitter yourself.