Honey For your Wounds||rewritten

4||w a n k e r

Wednesday, December 16th

"you two should just leave now, wouldn't want you gettin' hurt," he spoke, giving them mercy.

Schlatt stepped onto the bus, looking over the mostly empty seats. it was almost eery. there was never this few people, but as the ram passed by the seats, he was able to count seven.

seven?

his eyes scanned the area, landing on a hand that shot up and waved quickly, gesturing for him to sit down. he immediately recognized it as Wil, seeing as the sleeve fell down to nearly the boy's elbow. the ram rushed to the back of the bus where Wilbur was, his hand lowering as he travelled to the back, sitting down.

"hi, Schlatt," Wil grinned. "hey, Wilbur. how was your night? do anything interesting?" he asked, recalling his own night which he spent on a discord call with his friends. "I learned a new song on the guitar, actually, its called 'Waste' by this cool as hell band called Crywank," he explained. "it was a lot easier to learn than I thought it'd be."

Schlatt nodded. "I was just on call with my friends," he spoke casually. Wil nodded, glancing back out the window at the now moving objects. 

"hey, Wilbur? do you wanna hang out this weekend? I don't feel like being home," he told truthfully. "yeah, sure. my mum won't care," he told turning his full attention to the ram.

"are you sure?" he asked.

"Schlatt, I've been on this earth for fifteen years. I know how my mum is. she'll say yes," he assured, smiling a bit. "alright. you know her more than I do,"

"yes, I do,"

 🐝

the pig signed off the beautifully written paper with '-johnathan' near the bottom, looking it over it and folding it up. this was perfect-- paying attention in English class was paying off. he was stood out in the hall during passing time with Kit and Phil. he turned to Phil, grinning, bottom canines sticking out. "Phil, be a dear and put this in Wil's locker," before he could respond, he was shoving the letter at Phil, making him grab it. he let out a defeated sigh and nodded.

Phil made his way down the hall where he had seen Wilbur's locker was from the past, stomach twisting. he had to listen, so he did. he slipped the note through the holes of the fellow brit's locker, returning back to the people he called his friends.

 🐝

Wilbur opened his locker, a grey envelope fluttering to the ground. "what in the hell?" he muttered, picking it up and opening it with all disregard for the envelope. the brit undid the note inside of it, and read what it said. his eyes widened as he read over it again. it seemed like some stupid secret admirer letter, but every time his eyes just fell on the '-johnathan' at the bottom. there was no way that this was from him. they've known each other for about two weeks-

he was able to pin-point the boy, approaching him. "Schlatt?" he asked, his face dusted pink. "yeah? what's wrong?" 

"well, uh, I got your letter!" he paused, looking down to where it lay folded in his pocket. "I really had, uh, no idea you felt like that," he said, laughing a bit. "hold the fuck on, Wilbur. what letter?"

Wilburs brows raised. "the one in my locker that was signed from you-" he pulled out the paper from his pocket, showing it to him. Schlatt grabbed the paper, reading it. his face became more surprised as he read, reddening. "wow. okay. that wasn't me," he told, folding it over and returning it. "none of my friends would do this, I don't think. maybe Connor-"

he was cut off when he received a gentle slap to the back of his head. "what about me?" his friend had asked, standing next to the pair.

"Connor, you didn't happen to forge a love letter to Wilbur from me, did you?" he asked, receiving another small slap. "I just met this guy, dumbass. have you ever considered Techno? I bet it's him,"