Starlights ||Schlattbur||

10: I've Really Fucked Up Now, Haven't I?

Warnings; Anxiety? Throwing up

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He didn't even have to let his father finish. He knew he'd been busted, no point in lying.

Phil sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look mate, I'm not mad, I'm not even remotely disappointed, I'm just- I don't know what to say."

"'m sorry, I-," Wilbur couldn't form words, instead, tears were forming in the edges of his eyes, his body began trembling, and suddenly he couldn't fucking breathe. His chest burned and his throat felt like it was closing. Completely forgetting about the hickey, he tugged at his button up, feeling the cloth wrapped around his neck, he couldn't get it unbuttoned and it sent him into further panic. "I- I," 

"Woah, breathe Wil, it'll be alright,"

It will.

It isn't now.

Wilbur grabbed his hair, tugging at the brown locks, trying to make himself breathe.

Everything fucking hurts, his body is aching, his head is pounding, he is so fucking exhausted mentally, and he started breaking down in front of Phil, which didn't make him feel any better.

"It's alright bud, I'm here," Phil wrapped the trembling brunet into a hug, rubbing small circles on his back.

Wilbur latched onto Phil, full on sobbing into his shoulder now. He would apologize for soaking his green shirt later.

"Breathe in and count to five," Phil instructed calmly, waiting patiently for Wil to breathe in. "Good, good. Now, hold and count to seven, and then breathe out for four."

Wilbur shakily exhaled, repeating the steps a few more times until his breathing became regular. "I'm s-sorry dad," The brunet choked out, feeling his breath returning to him.

"I'm here bud, you don't have to apologize about this, but we need to talk. Come on, you should eat something." Phil directed the brunet to the table, sitting in his own spot quietly. He waited patiently for Wilbur's sniffles to die down and for him to start eating before he'd speak.

Wilbur poked at his food, a genuine loss in appetite plaguing him.

"So, Wil, did you know that you were going to be drinking last night?" Phil asked, keeping his voice calm although he was tense as hell. Wilbur nodded, not looking at the blonde. "How much did you drink..?"

A lot.

"More than enough." His answer came out short and he pushed his plate away.

"Wil, what does that imply? I have to know," Phil tried to keep his cool, while he wasn't mad, he just didn't know how to react.

"About ten shots,"

"Of what?"

Wilbur kept his head lowered, his hands shaking nervously.

"Wilbur, please?"

"Vodka,"

"Holy shit are you alright? Did you pass out? Throw up? How bad is your hangover? I can get you some medicine,"

"Yes, yes, yes, and I already took medicine,," Wilbur placed his head in his hands, ashamed. He doesn't want to drink again unless he can fucking forget about the last hour.

"You guys went to Sapnap's house, yes? Who all was there? Were all of you drinking?"

"I don't want to talk about this, please," Wilbur whined, feeling himself about to break down again. He didn't take his fuckjng anxiety meds and he just wanted to disappear.