Y/N POV
I sit across from Wilbur, both of us were sat on wooden chairs but are separated by a fancy looking table. He brought me to a restaurant that was so fancy and expensive that I couldn't even understand the name. He sat (and looked) like a gentleman, his hands were placed on his lap, he wore a freshly ironed black suit jacket along with a silky white dress shirt. He looked like an awkward school boy with the way he kept nervously glancing around. "Woah.. Y/N, they have a mirror on the ceiling" His tone wasn't worried, more like awe, amazed by how fancy this place was.
"Do you wanna move tables?" I ask, knowing of his fear. He shakes his head and purses his lips, placing his hands on the table.
"No, it's alright. I can't see myself" He smiles at me. "Thank you for remembering something about me" He turns his hand to bring his palm to face upwards, I take the hint and place my hand in his. "Every bit of you looks so much prettier than usual today" He compliments me. I smile. "Your smile is still the same though, beautiful as always.." He whispers.
"I would say the same to you but you'll just brush it off and compliment me more" I grin, he puckers his lips and shamefully looks down at the table, knowing I was right.
"I won't. Promise" He looks back at me, bringing his other hand onto the table (palm up). I place my other hand in his and glance up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking of a compliment I could give him.
"I see you actually styled your hair today" I comment, he kisses his lips, biting back a smile. "And you're also more handsome than usual" I grin, watching as his grip on my hands falter for a second before adjusting his hold and grasping my hands again. He gets red in the face, he takes his hands away from mine and places them neatly back onto his lap, then adverts his gaze from me. "I can't tell if you're enjoying the compliments or embarrassed that someone loves you this much" I nudge his foot with mine, I cross my arms and lean onto the table.
"Both-- I-I don't get compliments much, you know that.." He mutters, staring down at the floor. "It's nice and their unique, just like the words 'I love you'-- can I say something that's been on my mind for a while?" He cuts himself off with a question. I immediately nod. "If we say 'I love you' to each other to much I'm worried it'll lose its importance and uniqueness" He admits to me. "So.. can we say it a bit less--? N-Not that I don't.. like.. not feel that way towards you or anything, I'm just.. I'm worried.." He trails off, trying to save himself from the hole he keeps digging deeper.
"It's fine Wil, I understand" I chuckle, he places a hand on his forehead and closes his mouth, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "I love you"
"I love you, too" He breathes out, lowering his hand back to his lap. "Will our food arrive soon? I'm getting a bit hungry.." He looks over his shoulder, trying to see if a waiter was walking around.
I glance at the bouquet that was carefully set on the left side of the table, out of the way. It was made up of twelve red roses. Earlier, we met at the front of the building we live in (because he was out at a shop) and I saw him walking over with a bouquet in his hands. It was as if he watched a YouTube video titled 'how to go on a date'. I smile at the flowers before looking around too. "Maybe it will arrive soon-- and why are the tables around us empty?" I take note of the empty tables surrounding us, the place wasn't empty but the tables near us were.
"I might have made a few reservations just in case you needed to change the time we meet.." He murmurs, a guilty look on his face. "I was being paranoid, I'll admit that" He nods. I laugh and he embarrassingly stares at the table. "Oh.. and, before I forget," He gets my attention again. "Lou told me he was moving to America, he seemed really happy about it so I wouldn't worry much. But I saw him at a Tesco and he told me, he really is a good guy" He sadly smiles at me, seemingly knowing I saw Lou as a good person in my life.
"That's upsetting but I'm glad he's happy.." I smile back. I look past Wilbur and see a waiter walking out with food on a tray. Wilbur finds my gaze and sighs in relief, glad we wouldn't need to make small talk anymore. The waiter gives us our food and we thank them before they walk back to the kitchen. "Have you ever eaten at this place?" I ask Wil, unwrapping my utensils from a napkin.
"No, but James brags about it a lot. He says that 'it's so hard to make a reservation' when I've literally just made six of them" He points out, rolling his eyes at the mention of his friend. He perks his head up, looking down and taking his phone out of his pocket. "Speak of the devil-- sorry, I should've had my phone on silent" He apologizes, clicking decline and going to pocket his phone but it buzzes again, he glances down. "He's complaining about snow" He tells me, pocketing his phone and lifting his eyes to stare at the large window behind me.
I look over my shoulder and see it had started snowing. "It's gonna be a pain to get home, isn't it?" I huff, turning back to Wil.
"The universe must love us" He happily smiles and grabs his fork, ready to eat. "The universe made it snow so I have to give you my jacket" He makes up a lie (that he might actually believe).
"I think you just want to give me your jacket" I stifle back a laugh as he shrugs and defends himself.
"Either/or!"
We both laugh, which causes a struggle with unlocking my door, eventually, I slide my card over the scanner and it unlocks. I open the door and me and Wilbur both walk inside. I brush the snow off his jacket I wore. We were both laughing from something that happened on our way home, we saw a man kick some snow only for a pigeon to fly out of the pile and scare him, I didn't find it that funny but Wil was crying laughing over it, he must be tipsy from the wine we had. And I couldn't help but laugh with him, because his laughter was contagious.
"A-And he fell down!" Wilbur yells, winding up again and laughing louder. I close the front door and shake my head at him. "The pigeon did that purpose!" He exclaims, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"I'm sure it did" I nod my head in agreement. We both take our shoes off (he takes longer because he starts laughing again).
He drops his shoe onto the floor, placing a hand on his chest and taking in a deep breath. His laughter slowly turns into giggles. "Y/N, you wanna know whats even funnier?" He points a finger at me, he doesn't let me respond, he hastily grasps my face in his hands and stares me in the eyes with a large smile on his face. "I'm a murderer!" He laughs again, my smile stays on my face but I look at him with confused eyes. He's definitely tipsy.
"What..?" I whisper, bringing my head back slightly. "That's.. it's not really funny?" I admit to not getting the joke.
"N-No! No Y/N I'm being serious!" He takes a hand off my face, lifting it into the air. "I've killed a man!" He places the hand on his chest, tapping his heart. "Five, actually!"
I place my hand on his (the one that held my face) and slowly take it off my face, I shamefully hold his hand. "A-Are you joking?" I ask him. He stops laughing and just stares at me for a moment, his eyes were wide, full of insanity. His big smile was still on his face, but it shrinks with every going second.
"No?" He smiles again. "I-- no! No I'm not fucking joking!" His smile falls again. He grips the hand I held his with. "Y/N, I'm not joking" He glares at me.
I was sure he wasn't. I was terrified now. We just come back from a date and now I'm gonna get murdered? I step back, trying to tug my hand out of his grip. "Let me go" I try to keep my tone flat, but it was shaky. I take a deep breath and glare at him. "Wilbur, let me go" I try my best to calm myself, his grip goes loose and I tug my hand away. He doesn't break eye contact with me, so I do. I turn my back to him, storming into the kitchen.
"I thought you'd understand
Y/N!" He shouts at me, his happiness gone and replaced with betrayal. "I thought you'd laugh it off with me!" He scoffs. I go over to my knife block, grabbing the handle of the largest knife and sliding it out from its holder, I turn back to Wilbur and point the knife at him, both my hands grasp the handle, my feet were slightly separated from each other, I was just standing my ground and defending myself. He raises his hands to his chest. "Y/N.. put the knife down, darling--"
"Don't fucking call me that" I yell at him. "All these months.. y-you murdered people-- Danny?! Did you murder Danny and then lie and tell me you didn't?! You cried and I felt guilty!" I seethe, my hands shake out of fear, and he could see. "You don't like being called a monster but you are!"
He hesitantly lifts his own shaky hand, he brings his hand around the blade-- not enough to cut his palm though, he just gently held it. If I were to move the blade, then he would be cut. I don't move though, my whole body tenses. "Y/N.. you don't want to hurt me.." He whispers, pointing out a fact that I wouldn't want to admit.
I tear up, I let out a well needed breath. "Of course I don't, Wil!" I shout at him, trying my best not to move the knife. "Why the fuck would I want to hurt you?! You've done nothing bad to me but apparently you've murdered people!" I sob, he lifts his hand, going to hug me but I shake my head. "Don't.. don't touch me"
"I've only murdered the people that hurt you Y/N--! I killed your mother for you!" He says it as if it would make me feel better.
I drop the knife, it grazes his hand and he hisses, grasping his wrist and bringing his hand to his chest. "You killed my mum?! What the fuck, Wilbur?!" I slide my hands into my hair, gripping onto it and non-painfully tugging. "Oh my god, oh my fucking god, you killed me mum! Not some drunk man-- it was you!" I place my hand on his chest, trying to shove him but I only nudge him back slightly.
He hides his cut hand from me. "Y/N she was a bad person.."
"That doesn't mean fucking kill her, Wilbur! That doesn't mean shit! I don't care if she mistreated me! I-I don't care if she didn't love me-- she didn't deserve that! She was my mother!" I scream at him. It was my first week living here and I was sure I'd have a noise complaint by tomorrow.
He looks down at me, his gaze cold and unloving, not like it usually was. "I was protecting you.." He glares, his tone menacing. "What about Evan?"
"What?" I look at him confused.
"I killed him-- so what about Evan? Your old neighbor?"
"You fucking killed Evan?!" I begin to pace, now knowing he wouldn't hurt me but I still wanted to stay away from him.
"He was catcalling you!" He huffs. "I-I don't get it, Y/N.. I really don't. You-- you complain about all these problems, all these people.. then when someone does something about it you complain more? You run from the person who helped you?" He stares at me, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed together. "What am I supposed to do then? Let you get kidnapped and cry yourself to sleep every night? Let you suffer alone?" He throws his hands around, I stop pacing and look at him, he picks up the knife and walks over to me. "If you think I'm a monster then kill me-- Y/N, kill me" He waves the knife towards me.
I hesitate, taking a step back only for the heel of my foot to hit the wall. "N-No, no Wilbur, I'm not going to.." I refuse.
"Why not?!"
"Because I'm not going to be like you! I'm not going to result to fucking murder!" I use all my force, pushing him back, he trips on his own foot, stumbling back but still landing on his feet.
"It's not murder if it's an animal, Y/N. So maybe I could be an animal? A bug? What am I to you?!" He shouts, gripping the knife tighter and stepping closer again. I angrily stare at him.
"I hate you!"
He drops the knife.
I lower my tensed shoulders, I look at the knife before slowly looking up at Wilbur, he stares back, his feet hesitant as they move him over to me. "Y/N.." He stands tall in front of me, he raises his hands and I harshly flinch, raising my hands to defend myself but he just stays still. I lower my hands as he raises his own, grabbing onto my neck, he tightens his grip for a moment before loosening it. I feel the dripping blood on his palm. I'm sick. He doesn't break eye contact with me. I swallow, tears dropping from my eyes.
"Don't kill me, Wil.." I plead.
Wilbur begins to cry himself. "I did it to protect you.. I didn't kill the people you surrounded yourself with, I killed the people that made you terrified of living" He doesn't let go, his fingers begin to dig into my skin. "My pretty girl.." He sobs. "You're gonna leave me.. aren't you?"
He was a murderer. A monster. Why can't I move? Why won't I talk? Tell him to leave? Why don't I report him to the police? Why don't I stab him, listen to what he told me to do? He hates himself, so is that putting him out of his misery? God, why was I thinking on this?! No, obviously! He killed my mother! He killed Evan-- people! He's a murderer! I could only watch as he sobbed, his hands ever so slightly suffocating me, not enough to kill me. He falls against me, placing his head on my shoulder, his tears soaking into his suit jacket I wore. He was right, I hated him for killing bad people.. people that hurt me. And I complained about them, I told him my problems and then when he resolves them I'm terrified of him? He did it out of love didn't he? Even if he did, it was wrong. So why should I not report him? I can stab him right now, just go over, grab the knife, and boom. But everything is holding me back, his hands, my heart, these months I've known him. I can't do it.
"No.." I reply in a more questioning tone than I had hoped. "Don't kill me.. please" I repeat, begging.
He fully loosens his grip on my neck, but still holds onto me. He lifts his head and stares into my teary eyes while I stare into his. "I'm sorry.. I'm so, so sorry.. all-- all this guilt has been eating me away. I-I've been constantly suffering, retching, hurting because I haven't told you I've killed people. The only reason I told you is because I couldn't let you love me, someone who has killed people" He sadly rambles through his cries. "You don't need to love me anymore.. but please forgive me.. and please, please.. don't hate me.." He shakes his head, lowering his hands from my neck and placing them firmly on my shoulders.
I obviously shouldn't forgive him. But it feels like he's my life support, and I can't see him go. I can't see him dissappear from my life.
"I.." I hesitate. "I forgive you.."
He slowly lifts his hands again, grabbing my face, I shiver at the feeling of more blood touching my skin, I get a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach as I feel it drip down my cheek. He leans forward, softly kissing me, knowing after this, I'd never be comfortable with him again. The kiss breaks apart with a sob, he tries to kiss me again but can't, his cries stop him. He places his head back on my shoulder, he sobs louder, his hands wrap around me and he squeezes me apologetically, almost lovingly, but regret took that over.
"I'm sorry"
Froggie speaks!
STOPPP THIS CHAPTERS ACTUALLY GOOD 😍 I LOVE IT SMMM 🤭 ALSO LOSER JUST EXPOSED HIMSELF, HE COULD'VE LIVED A HAPPY LIFE BUT REALLY RUINED IT