Home - Wilbur soot angst

Part 13

"So... that was your dad."

Long abandoned was the sandy shore that the three had met upon. It was instead traded for the interior of the kitchen space but only two of them stood together. The time came when everyone had retreated back to their rooms as sleep awaited their rival into their domain. Quick goodnights were spared and with that, the lights of Nirvana dimmed down for the evening, leaving a slightly haunted and creepy feeling to the cave.

Wilbur sat perched on a stool, his hands clasped firmly around a burnt sienna-colored mug. Inside his reflection stared bullets directed back at himself, only to be distorted by small ripples in the water. At the blink of an eye, the ripples ceased in their motion, quick surprise overlapping his face. Eyebrows furrowed in, in what? Confusion? That's what it felt like.

Dream rested against a counter of smooth stone, the material not cushioning him at all but nevertheless, he stayed. His hands tapped the tabletop to some random rhythm he found. The pattern occasionally faltered in some areas, a beat too early or too late echoing every once in a while before returning to normal.

"You could say that. I don't call him Dad or anything like that. You might catch Tubbo or one of the others slip up for something like that. If I did, it would have had to be a couple of years ago when he found me."

The elf paused, blinking a few times as a hand found its way to his chin. "Now that I think about it, how long ago was it? It might have been something like... 8 years ago?"

"8 years?" Wilbur asked incredulously, his eyebrows raising as he straightened his posture to listen to the person across from him. From the way Dream had previously described it, his attachment to this place hadn't seemed like it had been this long. " You must have been a wee baby back then. Aww, I can imagine it, tiny dream running around, teleporting into trees and stuff." A few chuckled left Will and were half-heartedly continued by Dream although they were quick to die out.

"Oh haha, very funny. For your information, I wasn't that bad at first. I couldn't even teleport back then." His head turned as he spoke, his voice drifting off as if he was having trouble recalling something. "I was maybe 10 when I found them. It was winter yet I could remember feeling nothing but heat. A fire broke out, the whole thing consuming the place I used to live in."

The airiness that was quick to form suddenly deflated. Wilbur felt a breath lodge itself in his throat as he listened to his friend, his hands slowly letting go of the mug and set it on the stone with a brief click. This, this was more personal territory, wasn't it? What had Wilbur done to deserve this? To get this knowledge? Was it regular kindness? Did he need someone to talk to that bad that Wilbur was just to be used again just like before? That last thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that contrasted against the sweet sugar and cinnamon of the tea.

"I kind of remember her, my mom. Her name was Puffy. She... she was amazing. The best mother you could ask for. But the gods above didn't seem to agree. You never know how good you have something until it's gone forever. It makes you really think."

"I'm so sorry." It was at this point that Wilbur had pushed himself off the stool and around the counter to stand beside Dream. A hand touched the shorter's shoulder, an act meant to show reassurance; Something done for him in his time of need.

A sad smiled appeared on what could be seen of the blonde's face. Despite this, Wilbur could picture exactly what he looked like without it. Eyes expressing 'Thank you' in full earnest, eyebrows drew together, the same freckles caught around the edges of his jaws and cheeks decorating the bridge of his nose. Dream's own hand touched Will's and for a second, the world was still. He hoped one day he could gain enough trust to be shown himself and not have to speculate on what could be. Until then, he was content with this.