Lethean (William Afton X Reader)

彡[ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 54: ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛ]彡

+++++ William's POV +++++

The rainstorm endured until the following day, yet the light from the sun shone behind these blue curtains. As usual, I sat by the living room, holding a newspaper page and an empty white teacup. However, I barely made it past the first paragraph. I've read the exact first sentence 10 times now.

"You're incredibly quiet, honey," Clara appeared with the lunch she prepared. She set them on the dining table and said, "What's wrong?"

"Clara, do you remember why we got married?" I questioned.

"Oh my, is this for our anniversary? It's still months away!" she giggled and sat on the armrest of my chair. Her hand slithered to my shoulders until her arms wrapped themselves around my neck as she became comfortable. "That's because we loved each other, and everyone believes we met in college but in reality, we've known each other since we were children. I still remember how our parents prepared everything for us to get married once we came of age."

"I can easily say it was the best day of my life, and I'll do anything to relive that moment again," Clara buried her fingers under the locks of my hair. "So have you thought about it?"

"Thought of?"

"Getting married again, what else?"

"Of course I have, just not with you."

The woman scoffed, her grip on my hair became a violent tug while my hand was already on her neck, ready to strangle her. "I think you're forgetting what's at stake here, honey," Clara whispered in my ear. It was a surprising sight to see this woman become so cheeky, and I knew the reason why. It's where her confidence comes from.

"And you're forgetting that I murdered children, my dear," I whispered back, grinning. "The only thing stopping me from doing the same to you are our children. They'd be too despaired if they find out their mother is dead or missing."

"You never changed, you're still after the impossible."

"And I don't intend to until I have it in my hands. Don't expect to get a single drop of it, Clara," my grip gradually became stronger and instead of suffocating her on the spot, I pushed her out of her seat by the neck. "You're insane to want to be with a serial killer, you know that?"

"I'm doing this for us, why can't you understand that?" she replied. Insanity is one thing, but desperation? I have no comment on that. Why would I need to have an understanding of her wish to be with me? The moment we signed the divorce papers, I became aware that nothing will ever be the same as it was before. I do admit I missed her often, yet that changed when (Y/N) stepped into my life. Now she's missing, and I don't enjoy imagining her getting hurt.

Annoyed, I sat up from my seat and grabbed the car keys from the table, "I'll be back late, don't wait for me." I hopped into my car, turned the key, and drove out of the driveway to temporarily get away from my source of headaches. Linnea's words brought me to think about my actions toward other people. From the way she spoke about it, it was like she knew how it felt and truly comprehended it.

However, some of her words confused me. Recalling the entire conversation, she made the impression that (Y/N) would disappear, calling her a mere memory, and possibly the next time I meet her, it could be the last. Time waits for no one, she said, and it is neither a friend nor a foe. But why? Why does it feel like she's slipping away...? Is she hiding a sickness? Something was wrong, and I couldn't pinpoint what exactly is the problem.

The last person to see and contact (Y/N) was Neil, though he has no idea himself where she could be in Salt Lake. I haven't tried prying him the question for showing a single care about her will sow problems. Searching blindly would be foolish, and I keep reminding myself that.