This one I am not entirely proud of. It was something off my head. Enjoy, I guess.
To not step on anymore broken eggshells. William sinks deeper into the bed sheets. Securing his body like a tight burito, preventing his arms to do anything else. Guilt is there, a parasite to most human emotions. Just this time, he felt his heart swell every time he breathed.
They said the first love is the hardest to let go. True, it may seem, but it's not like he had a prepared safety net for when it got bad. No cuddle friends to eat tubs of pistachio ice cream or binge Netflix romcoms.
William Afton broke those, too. So, right now, in a tight blanket embrace and tight rent imbalance, he thought back down memory lane because his heart is not broken enough.
Linda. A thief to his pathetic, lonely heart. Had a beautiful face and personality of a peacock. Her confidence blinding and that's what drew him in like a loyal dog on a leash. She made him feel like maybe the world is not all tight lip. Wrong. How very wrong he was.
Dragging the blanket with him, William walks to the kitchen, starting the stove he heats the kettle. It was one of those fashion antiques, with a little embroidery and chipping to complement its age. It worked like some things in his run-down apartment. It cooed; then whistled, coming to a stand still when William poured its contents into a mug.
It was either tea or a combination of whiskey-and-coffee. Choosing the latter, he poured a bit of both, then stirred. His phone rang, he answered.
The person on the other line sounded warily. Like they just finished crying, some school girl William thought.
"I-I didn't mean it, what I said. You got to know that."
"Hi, who is this?"
The other line went dead quickly. It would have made William laugh, but he was having his mental heart break moment. Not even 10 minutes go by before his phone rings again. The same creaky voice pops up.
"Jess, I'm sorry."
"Still me." William hinted. The phone between his ear and shoulder while he clasps the mug in his hands.
"Had your little break up too, I presume?"
"No.Sibling fight." There's silence for an awkward minute. William even wondered if the caller would hang up again.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this."
"I don't know either. Just don't call my number again, or you will expect a knock at your door."
He meant it as a joke, but his voice grazed more than anticipated. Blaming the whisky, he cleared his throat loudly.
"What really?" Replied the caller. William imagined him scratching his head, confused.
"No. My IQ is below zero. I wouldn't know where to start." Finishing his whis-coffee, William sets the mug down.
'Ha, it can't be that bad."
'Well, from stranger to stranger. It is.'
William found himself perching his head on his knuckles. Normally, he would do this when days are favorable, which wasn't today, but to a little degree, almost had his feet tapping.
They talked longer still until William needed to draw the curtains to his kitchen for some moonlight. The phone cord coiled around his body, letting him twirl periodically. Looking down, he could see many boxes moving in line, honking if need be.
He learned the callers name, Henry. A student in college with 3 years ahead of him in engineering. That was an accomplishment considering how his life was leading.
William, a collage dropout, and a mailman, for three years, could only dream. He wasn't jealous, not the slightest, just out of place and maybe his feelings being twisted along with the cord rolling around his finger.
"You listen to metal and K-pop. How do those two mix?" said William. Laughing a little to the joke in his head.
"Well, I had two friends. The exact opposite of each other, who then introduced me to metal and K-pop. I remember they had an argument one karaoke night, and I was stuck in the middle of it."
In response, William chuckled once more. So did Henry, the vibration buzzing on Williams' ear.
Later, did they know they would laugh again when William came one day with a package of VIXX and Metallica merchandise in front of Henry's dorm room.
