hypnotic- wilbur soot

𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝-𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝

waking up the next morning and going to my job at the café seemed easier than ever.

the possibility of wilbur entering the café while i was on shift filled me up with an anxious warmth.

i navigated down the rainy street, my headlights shining through the heavy downpour and dark road.

i had decided to open the café up quite early that morning. the clock on my dash read 4:10 am and i sigh, turning the volume up to allow "pyjama pants" by cavetown to flow through the speakers of my warm car.

the lyrics began to fully occupy my brain as my car glided across the pavement. i smile, reciting them quietly.

"wanna make you feel.. " i begin, my whispers holding a softness i didn't know i could even express. "gentler then silk, stronger than steel." i tap my hands on the steering wheel along with the tempo of the song, and i sigh when i realized i was reminded of the tall brunette in the lyrics. "show them how to be calm, wrap him 'round my arm" i lean my head back slightly, my body covered in a warm- euphoria.

"remind each other what's a lie and what is real.." i finish, as i pull into the lot of the café.

i exit my car, pulling my small backpack with me. i put the bag over my head, locking my car as i sprint through the rain toward the locked door of the dark café.

the cold atmosphere of the empty building makes me shiver as i step inside. i flick on the light switches by the door and watch the room fill with a golden light. i begin to walk around the room, pulling chairs off the tops of tables and making sure the salt and pepper shakers were full.

i connect my phone to the bluetooth speaker system in the café, and decide that i'm in the cavetown mood.

i start the "this is cavetown" playlist that spotify recommended to me and get to work cleaning the coffee machines.

i do my usual tasks behind the counter as the soft music plays in the background.

i pop some of our baked goods into the oven before turning around to check my outfit out in the mirror we kept across the café, in the reading nook area. i adjust my necklaces slightly and pull gently on my sweater sleeves. i find my way out of the behind-the-counter area and step into the nook, flopping down onto the bean-bag.

i lean my head back for a moment, before i hear the bell ring. it was still only around 4:40, so nobody should be coming in yet.

i sit up gently, leaning to see who was at the door.

"we are still closed, i'm so sor-" i begin, before catching sight of the tall brunette.

"wilbur!!" i exclaim, gesturing for him to come join me in the reading nook.

his smile widens from across the café, and he wanders over.

i notice his outfit change. he's wearing a light blue sweater now, with a similar pair of light wash jeans, and his black converse. he had no beanie on today, allowing his curls to lay freely on his head. he's got a gentle shine around his neck, and i notice he'd found a way to attach the rose quartz i gave him to a necklace.

i smile, and the boy pulls a large black case off of his back and flops down on the beanbag opposite of mine.

"hello jamie!" he says, giving me a breathtaking grin.

"hello wilbur!!" i return, the excitement in my voice evident. "i like your necklace." i add, and he flushes slightly.

he opens the black case and pulls out a guitar. i expect him to pull it into his lap but instead he sets it down, reaching further into the case.

i watch the boy pull out a similar silver chain, with an opal attached to it. he comes closer, wrapping the chain around my neck and clipping it gently.

my cheeks flare as his face gets dangerously close to mine, and i sigh gently as he pulls away.

"it's opal," he begins, pulling on the stone around my neck slightly. "it apparently stimulates creativity and originality. it can also help you find your true self, and release anger and claim self worth. at least that's what the woman who sold me it told me." he explains, his smile soft, but noticeable.

"thank you wilbur.." i say, smiling. "opal is my favorite." i add, pulling my legs up and crossing them, criss-cross applesauce style.

he nods, pulling back and returning to his bean bag.

"can i play for you?" he asks, and i nod, plug-in the music that rang through the café and watching as he fiddled with the tuning pegs for a moment before strumming out a tune i almost immediately recognized as "knee socks" by arctic monkeys, slightly altered to fit his acoustic guitar, but nevertheless recognizable.

he sings along to the song he was producing out of his guitar, and i sing too, smiling gently as we harmonized.

——

cute little chapter for yall mwah kisses. stay safe and hydrated! much love. -honk