• refrences to an eating disorder
• refrences to depression
• mature language
Georges pov=
Wilburs flight was landing at around 3am.
Normally id be long asleep by then, but I havent been sleeping well the past few weeks, so I think ill be able to stay up.
Id rushed home after he'd texted me, unluckily he could only get a few messages in before he had to board the plane.
So all he had told me is that he'll explain everything when he gets here.
Ive already set up a bed in my room for him. I had nothing else to do, so I thought I might as well get it over and done with.
I dont think he knows how grateful I am that I have him, at least I dont have to spend the weekend alone.
Now im just playing the waiting game. Im laid out on the couch, eating pasta and watching television.
This is normally when the tiredness starts to kick in, but im not feeling it tonight. Im probably just excited about Wilbur.
The lights from the Christmas tree are starting to make me feel dizzy.
Theyre almost blinding, and are always in the corner of my eye no matter where I stand in the room.
I dont want to turn them off though, theyre oddly comforting.
I have to give it to Tommy and Tubbo, theyd done the house up well for Christmas.
I didnt think theyd bother with anything, but the first thing id noticed when I arrived were the decorations.
As im thinking along the lines of Christmas, I start to realize its past midnight.
I lift my phone the right way up and tap on the screen, allowing it to light up, showing me the time and date.
2:30am, December 24th
I stare at the phone, processing what im reading.
The 24th
God, how can it be the 24th already?
Its Christmas Eve and I still feel stuck in my summer mindset.
I snatch up my last few pieces of pasta with my fork and shove them into my mouth before I grab the bowl and slide out from under the blanket.
Im not bothered to pause the television, to be honest I hadnt really been paying that much attention to what had been happening in the show anyways.
The kitchen is spotless, id cleaned it earlier so im able to chill over the weekend.
I wash out the bowl slightly before I put it in the emptied dishwasher.
I pull open the cupboard filled with glasses, choosing whatever ones closest to the front, filling it halfway with water.
When I get back to the couch the first thing I notice is how its started to rain outside.
I can hear the splatter of raindrops hitting the roof and windows.
I drag the blanket back over myself, trying to get comfy again.
The remote control is within my reach, and im glad I dont have to move to get it.
I turn back to whatever episode I can last remember paying attention to, trying to follow along whatevers going on.
Just as I feel settled, the noise of a car coming up the road diverts my attention from the televsion.
At first I try to ignore it, but when I can hear the car door slam outside of the house, I realize who it is.
I jump up, letting the blanket drop from my lap once again.
As im running for the door I can already see him coming up the drive.
I swing open the door, watching him grin from ear to ear as he finally gets to the doorstep.
"Sorry it was such short notice" Wilbur says breathlessly.
His hair is already starting to dampen from standing in the rain.
I let out a relieved laugh, moving out of the doorway allowing him to come inside.
"Thats the first thing you have to say?" I ask him in a playful tone.
"Its the first thing I want to apologize for" he calls after me, slipping off his jacket and shutting the front door.
Im already headed back to the living room, him following close behind me.
"Apologize for?" I frown, throwing myself back down on the couch, "why would you be apologizing for anything else apart from that?"
"The way youre saying it makes it seem like I have terribly drastic news" he laughs.
"Do you?" I question.
"Of course not, if I did it wouldve been the first thing I told you" he tells me, gazing about the room.
"It looks the exact same, you guys really havent changed much" he says with a nostalgic looking smile as he walks around the back of the couch and to the bookshelfs.
"We had no reason to change anything" I say, shrugging even though he cant see me.
I watch him wander about the room for a minute or two, before I remember what he had said.
"Wait, what else do you want to apologize for?" I ask, lifting the blanket from the floor.
"We can talk about that later, dont worry about it" he says, trying to make me forget what he had said.
"Well now im obviously going to worry about it"
"I said you dont have to-"
"Which is exactly why I will" I press.
His eyes land on me, a funny look on his face.
"If theres one thing you're good at, its being stubborn" he tells me.
"Stubborns just another word for annoying" I accuse.
"Then youre definitely stubborn" he responds with a laugh, but quickly stopping and grinning when he sees my glare on him. "Im joking, George"
"Jokes are meant to be funny" I mumble under my breath.
"What room am I staying in?" he asks, missing my comment.
"Mine at the moment, Tubbo has my old room so we're both in the spare room" I inform him.
"I forgot Tubbos staying here too, did you tell them im back?" he asks, leaving the living room and heading down the hall.
I guess he expects me to follow, so I will.
"No, theyre gone this weekend" I say, catching up with him.
"Gone? Like they left you here?" he questions, picking up his bag and walking up the stairs.
"They didnt leave me, I chose to stay" I reply, following close behind him.
"So why didnt you go with them?" he presses.
"Why are you here?" I challenge back.
"Mhm, touché" he responds with a small laugh.
He manages to divert the conversation again as he unpacks his stuff.
Im left bored, asking him dumb questions as im laid out on his blow up bed.
"Hows Niki? And Quackity too?" I ask, watching him pull a blue jumper out of his suitcase.
"Theyre both great, Nikis got a new job alongside the band and Quackity drove me to the airport" he tells me mindlessly, continuing to hang up his clothes.
"Good for her, I miss them" I tell him, wishing I could talk to them.
"They miss you too, Quackity was talking to me about you and Tommy a few days before I got here"
"All good stuff I hope?" I grin.
"Yeah, they want you to come back and see them next summer" he says, still not paying attention to me.
I dont respond to that, thinking about the fact that if I do go back, chances are ill have to see him too.
"And, what about Ranboo?" I ask quietly, trying to sound normal.
He freezes for only a fraction of a second, but I still pick up on it.
"Yeah, Ranboos good" he says, putting a small bit of emphasis on 'Ranboo'.
After that we fall into an uncomfortable silence, both avoiding the one person that I havent asked about.
I tear my eyes away from him, afraid hes going to look at me.
I want to ask, but I dont want him to think im intrigued.
I want to know, but I dont at the same time.
"What about Tubbo?" Wilbur asks me, breaking the awkward tension, "how is he?"
"Hes fine, Tommys fine too" I tell him, refocusing my look on him.
"Thats good, whatve you been up to since you got here?" he asks, moving away from the subject of friends.
"Not alot" I admit, "does binging tv shows count as being productive?"
"Ill allow it" he tells me with a laugh.
"In my defence the weathers been shit" I complain, trying to sound convincing.
I know thats only half true though.
He doesnt respond, yet again looking like hes paying more attention to whatevers going on in his head then me.
"Whats going on with the band?" I ask him.
He doesnt stop unpacking, but he doesnt respond either. I dont get how this is a controversial question.
I honestly think hes about to ignore me until he breaks his weird silence.
"Well, what about the band?" he says, avoiding my question.
"How are they meant to perform if one of the lead singers is in England?" I explain.
I thought the question made perfect sense, but apparently not.
Wilbur never normally avoids conversations, but hes avoiding this pretty hard.
"We havent performed in a while" he admits, not turning to look at me.
"Why not? Is it hard to get venues?" I ask, confused.
He falls silent for another minute or two, but im letting him take his time.
If hes avoiding talking about this then I know its within good reason.
"No, getting venues is fine" he sighs.
"Im confused" I tell him, sitting up. "Whats the problem then?"
He continues on unpacking until he finally caves, coming to sit on the edge of my bed, his head in his hands.
I stare at him in disbelief, what had I said?
I climb up from his blow up bed and sit beside him.
"Did I say somethi-"
"No, no you didnt say anything" he whispers.
I try to figure out whats wrong, but I genuienly have no idea whats making him like this.
"Whats happened?" I ask him.
He doesnt reply, and now im even more worried than I had been before.
"This isnt your fault, and I dont want you blaming yourself or getting angry, okay?" he says, lifting his head to look at me.
"Youre scaring me, it cant be that bad" I say in a small voice.
"Just promise me you wont be pissed" he says, not diverting his gaze.
I stare at his face, and he looks dead serious.
"I promise"
He turns his head after I do as he says, staring at the wall in front of us.
Im starting to get impatient but I dont want to tell him that.
"Look, Dreams not doing great right now" he finally says.
Well thats the last thing id been expecting.
I thought we were avoiding him, but thats out the window now.
"Is he sick?" I ask in a cold voice.
I dont know why im putting on this uncaring act. I do care, I care alot.
"No, no hes not sick" he says, turning to peer at me.
I feel a tug in my chest when he speaks, would he just tell me whatevers wrong already?
"So whats wrong with him?" I ask, trying to sound unbothered.
Wilbur stands up and starts to pace the room.
"Can you just te-"
"He hasnt been well since you left" he says, stopping his dumb pacing. "Youve been gone nearly three weeks now and hes showing zero signs of getting better"
"Getting better?" I ask. "And what do you mean, 'hes not well?'" I continue pressing.
"I mean hes not well" Wilbur says, putting emphasis on his words. "He doesnt go anywhere, he doesnt talk to people, hes not even eating properly George" Wilbur starts of what im guessing is a big rant.
"And no matter what we try its useless, he'll only talk to Ranboo, and even when hes talking to Ranboo its barely an actual conversation" he tells me. "Ive called and messaged him about 100 times and I havent heard a thing back-"
"Wait, and you think this is all because of me?" I say, interrupting him.
"George, why else would he be acting like this? And dont make it sound like an accusation, I told you its not your fault" he tries reasoning.
"But it is, its all my fault according to your logic" I accuse.
"You didnt want to be around him at the time , and yes, I completely understand and agree with that, im just here to tell you whats happened and to try c-" he starts before immediately stopping himself.
"No, finish your sentence"
"George hear me-"
"Finish your sentence" I interrupt, refusing to let him slip past that one.
"You promised you woul-"
"If you dont tell me what you were going to say then im not talking to you anymore" I say, trying to sound final.
He stares at me from where hes stood near the windows.
I think he knows im not going to change my mind on this one.
"Im here to convince you to come back and listen to what Dream has to say" he bursts out.
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authors note
• 33k, thank you all so much!💗