sorry, don't really care because my life's running on acoustic.

Chapter Seven - Rainwater

Phil had decided to stay for a few days.

It was currently day two of him staying over, and Tommy eventually warmed up to him.

Phil was less and less threatened by the banshee's presence, and Wilbur swore he was thinking of adopting the little shit.

Tommy decided it would be a good fucking idea to steal his beanie and wear it, and when Wilbur tried to snatch it off him he simply returned to his more ghost-like form, meaning his hand just phased through him.

The fucker was extremely hard to catch, and when he finally fucking managed to regain his beanie, he stole his favourite sweater he had preciously stored in his closet.

At this point Wilbur lost all hope and just slunched tiredly on the couch, Phil laughing at the scene.

The old fucker never did anything to help.

He simply sat and watched amusedly, as if it were some show.

One day Tommy managed to pull off stealing both his beanie and his sweater, and with extreme stealth he managed to snatch his thin-wired glasses.

Wilbur lost all means of anger when he saw Tommy wearing his things, and simply melted at the sight.

"Aww, you look like a mini version of me!" Wilbur cooed, engulfing Tommy in a hug.

He was able to wrap his arms around the boy as he wasn't in his more phantom form, and he tried to break out of it by struggling.

"Fucking- let me go!" Tommy screeched, being the unholy demon he is.

Well, Banshee.

Wilbur simply hugged him slightly tighter, Tommy still kicking, attempting to get out of his grasp.

Phil chuckled in the background.

"Phil- help me!" Tommy whined, trying to push the brunette away.

Wilbur knew that deep down he was enjoying this because he didn't bother to phase away.

"Tommy, if you want to get out of my hug so much then why don't you simply phase through me? I mean, you're a ghost, and it seems like you're enjoying my-"

"Shut up." Tommy groaned, cheeks now a bright red.

Wilbur chuckled, loosening his grasp on the blonde as he hugged him back.

Phil grabbed his phone, and it's camera flashed.

"Phil, are you fucking taking photos?" Wilbur said, shooting a look at a 'confused Philza', who raised his hands in defence.

"Nope, definitely not." He grinned, popping the 'p'.

Wilbur sighed, releasing Tommy who immediately vanished.

Suddenly, Philza's phone was flying in the air.

"What the fuck?" Phil shrieked.

Tommy hummed, reappearing with his phone in his hands.

"Some interesting shit you got here, Phil." He grinned, tapping on one of the photos Phil took of them.

"Tommy, be a good gremlin and fucking delete those." Wilbur smiled, as Tommy countered with a cheeky grin.

"Tommy if you don't delete those I'll take you somewhere you want to go." Phil tried to offer.

Tommy hummed.

"Mm.. Nah."

He then proceeded to delete the photos, resulting in Phil amusedly placing a palm against his forehead /gently/ and Wilbur praising the blonde.

Life has gotten slightly more vibrant and brighter ever since Wilbur had met Tommy.

He was like a little ray of sunshine, with his bright attitude overtaking the cold atmosphere emitting from his hollow body.

He would give the world for him.

No matter who stands in their way.

꧁꧂

The water from the rain was battling the windows of the cottage, and Wilbur had never seen Tommy so afraid in his life.

Well, since after Technoblade's visit.

He simply shook and winced at every movement, especially during the thunderstorm.

He whimpered at the sound of the lightning crashing down onto the soil, and was curled up into a corner.

"Tommy?" Wilbur called.

He didn't answer.

When he stepped towards the boy, he flinched backwards, curling slightly further.

Wilbur exhaled softly.

Philza was somehow fucking sleeping soundly, undeterred by the loud claps of thunder.

The man had a way with sleeping during loud moments willingly.

"Tommy? Are you afraid?" Wilbur asked, bow sitting cross-legged infront the scared creature.

Tommy finally snapped back into existence, looking into Wilbur's eyes.

" 'M afraid. Bad memories." He muttered.

Wilbur softened his eyes, pondering in thought as to what he was remembering.

"Oh, Tommy. You don't have to be afraid." Wilbur whispered, laying a gentle hand against Tommy's shoulder.

He continued trembling however, and he looked on the verge of tears.

"I don't wanna see him again." his voice cracked.

Wilbur sighed under his breath, encasing the fearful boy into a hug as he rubbed circles on his back.

Tommy gripped onto him as he wept, and he wept throughout the storm.

He cried until he was knocked unconscious by fatigue, curled against Wilbur's chest.

He was sleeping soundly contrasted to the hiccuped that broke through his tears.

A soft smile grew on Wilbur's lips as he carried the sleeping ghost towards his room, covering him in blankets and disappearing down the stairs once more.

Tommy had most definitely become a little brother figure to him.

Wilbur's happiness was then knocked down by awareness.

He was getting attached.

He didn't want to, as the ghost would feel so much remorse when he eventually passes.

His heart would shatter upon the scene of a ghost weeping over a deceased loved one.

He had to try and slightly distance himself.

But knowing the clingy fucker the both of them are, that most likely won't happen.

꧁꧂

AN

2 AM and im risking my life by writing this, feeling quite pog if you ignore EVERY FUCKING SHITHEAD IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

THEY'RE FUCKING HAVING RAVES, I CAN HEAR SLIGHT MUSIC AND CHILDREN SCREECHING FOR THEIR MOMS BEING THE UNHOLY FUCKERS THEY ARE AND IM SOBBIN

MFS OUT IN THE STREETS SCREAMIN AT OTHERS BY SAYIN 'HEY'
HEY MY PRETTY ASS, WHY DON'T YOU COME OVER AND TRY TO SLEEP IN MY POSITION, SEE HOW EASY IT IS

MOTHERFUCKERS

author is crying

author needs help

author needs stuff to block out the noisy pricks