Solangelo Oneshots

10

By doctorsorders_deathboy

That's it. He was leaving.

Will Solace turned and left the exhibit, done with pretending to belong there. He'd text his family later. It'd probably be a while until they noticed his absence anyways.

It had taken a long time for them to convince him to go to the art exhibition in the first place. Apparently they were big fans of the artist― some young Italian guy― and thought that they needed to share their obsession with Will. Will's family was extremely artistic, in multiple senses. Whether it was visual art, music, or poetry, all of them were talented. And then there was Will, the science nerd who felt like a fish out of water in his own home.

The blond grumbled to himself as he walked out to his car, almost tripping over the curb. He cursed as he stubbed his toe, scowling at the pavement. The sun was finishing setting, and in the limited evening light, it was hard to tell where the curb was. Will assumed it had once been painted yellow, but the paint had since worn away making it hard to tell where to step if you were distracted.

Will shuffled his feet over to his car, unlocking the door. He was about to get in when he heard a loud, "Shit!"

He turned to see a young man clutching his shin as he knelt by the curb, his face scrunched up in pain.

"Hey, you okay?" Will hurried over to the other man, offering to help him up.

The man waved Will's hands away, still grimacing. "Yeah. I just tripped on the fucking curb like the genius I am."

"Ouch. I almost did that earlier. Here, let me help."

"I'm fine," he insisted, managing to stand up on his own. His eyes met Will's, making the blond catch his breath. The man's eyes were a rich brown, which suddenly made it harder for Will to be able to breathe. "Why are you staring?"

"S-sorry, I just―"

"Recognized me as the artist? Well feel free to compliment me or whatever, but please don't be the creepy kind of fan that just stares. I've dealt with too many of those tonight."

Will's eyes widened in recognition as he realized who he was talking to. "Oh, you're― Yeah, sorry, I just... I thought you were in the museum."

"I was," he said. "I just came out here to get my phone, which I forgot in my car earlier and then was too busy to go get before now."

"Oh."

The artist took a step forward, wincing in the process.

"Do you want me to check that out?" Will blurted.

"Huh?"

"Y-your leg, I mean. I have a first aid kit in my car. If you put some ice on it, it'll help. Trust me."

The artist raised an eyebrow. "Who actually carries a first aid kit in their car?"

Will reddened. "Well, I'm studying to be a doctor," he mumbled, shuffling over to his trunk and unlocking it. He turned around to see the artist― Nico, Will remembered― watching him from over where he fell. Will's hands fumbled as he took out the ice pack, even though his hands were normally steady when he worked. When he went over to give the pack to Nico, the artist took it and pressed it to his leg.