It's officially been two days since Wilbur walked back inside the walls of my once lonesome apartment, and to say he'd made himself at home would be an understatement.
"Wilbur! Why don't you clean your hair out of the drain?!" I cry from the bathroom, seeing how when I'd opened my shower door, the mop of disgusting strands was just laying there limp.
Why do I even keep him around at this point?
Actually, never mind, I can answer my own question right now, sadly. I'm scared of letting him go.
Wilbur's my soulmate, and I only get one of those. Throwing him out without offering up a chance to adjust is... well it's just painful to think of for me.
And I'm fully aware there's no romance shared between either of us; but to see him sprawled out on the couch as snores escape from his chest is a great start to the day.
It makes me feel less alone.
"Cause I don't want to, duh," He mutters, popping his head into the bathroom without care for what state I may be in, snarky tone still ever-present.
Obviously, the anger between us hadn't really died, it more-or-less just morphed into some type of childish feud.
We bickered, we yelled, and most importantly, we ignored each other.
But somewhere along the lines, the two of us forgot about the actual anger and frustration that had once been there.
I actually don't even think we understood where the anger came from in the first place; it's not like either of us were necessarily bad when it came to introductions, just annoying.
But that didn't mean we liked each other; no, not even a little. He hated me, and I hated him. That much was obvious.
"How do you think I feel then? That's disgusting," I cringe back, stepping away so Wilbur could squeeze into the small apartments bathroom.
His eyes roll as he goes to grab the nasty clump. "It's not hard to grab it and throw it away, I used to do it for my brother all the time back home."
"Yeah? Well I'm not your brother, and I absolutely will not touch your hair," I finalize, pushing him out once he tosses the clump into the bathrooms trash can. "Don't break anything out there while I'm busy!"
The door slams into his face and you can hear his dismissive laugh echo down the hall as I sigh, relaxing my shoulders before looking at myself in the mirror.
With pajama shorts on, you could see the marking, which didn't offer me any satisfaction or comfort.
Wilbur had been sneaking glances at it while I walked around, proving how obvious it was to the public eye.
Part of me was happy he at least acknowledged it, but at the same time, I was uncomfortable with the fact that it was his words engraved into my skin.
Forever.
Unless I... no, not a single part of me could ever bring myself to do such a painful thing as rip the marking off.
He isn't that bad.
"y/n, I broke the remote!" The sudden yell from the living room makes me sigh, and I ignore him, turning the shower on while getting undressed.
"He's your soulmate, y/n, you'll adjust. No more loneliness," I mutter to myself, getting into the shower with a small breath.
"Does the tv always make static sound?!"
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Small filler for the plot that _0ceanBreeze_ MADE! :)