mysotis ((wally darling x reader))

𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

    Once Wally had finished making his pancakes, he set a couple onto two plates, sliding one over to where I sat at the counter, making my eyes widen slightly. "You made some for me?" I tilted my head in utter confusion.

"If i'm going to be forced into helping you, you can't be running on an empty stomach. The last thing I need is for you to somehow get more annoying." He sat down on the stool beside me, setting his plate down and handing me a fork and knife.

I mumbled out a "Thanks" while side eyeing him from his previous comment. While doing so, I happened to notice he hadn't grabbed any utensils for himself, and was instead staring intently down at the stack on his plate. "Don't you need some?" I waved my fork at him with an eyebrow raised.

He glanced up at me before his gaze turned back to his plate. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "Oh! Hm yes I suppose I do." He scrambles to get up and grab himself a set, glancing back at me a couple times as if checking to see if i'm still watching him.

Of course I was! He was acting so suspicious, like he was hiding something. But what could someone possibly have to hide about utensils? Plus there's not much else to look at without my phone to use as a distraction from awkward situations like this.

He sat back in the chair next to me as I focused on cutting up my pancakes. Suddenly, something I should have thought of sooner occurred to me. "These aren't poisoned, right?" Maybe it wasn't the utensils he was worried about, but the food itself.

He placed a hand on his chest and gasped dramatically "Why y/n, little ol' me? Darling is quite literally in my name; I would never do such a thing."

"You've literally threatened to kill me more than once now." My tone was cold and to the point, though I couldn't help but have to hold back a laugh at his dramatics.

He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly realized I was right. "Touché." He shrugged, taking a bite out of his breakfast.

Well I suppose if he's eating it, then it must be safe. Cautiously, I examined the piece of pancake on my fork before slowly putting it in my mouth. Now look, Wally might be an asshole, but damn does he know how to cook. I immediately started shoveling forkfuls into my mouth, realizing just how long it have been since i've had a proper meal. Sure I had one of those heat and eat packages last night, but those are tiny and always end up tasting a bit like melted plastic. This was home cooked. This had flavors that weren't chemical like.

"Wally you-" Narrowed eyes shot me a glare, reminding me I still needed to watch what I said. I cleared my throat "I mean- Mr. Darling" I cringed as the words left my mouth "This is really good! Do you cook a lot?"

Sighing in satisfaction at my correction, his gaze shifted back to his plate. "Yes I really enjoy cooking, especially for my friends." A warm hue danced across his face before immediately turning cold once again as he glanced back over at me "As for you, don't get used to this. This is a one time deal."

Frowning, I shove another fork full into my mouth. "Every time I think he's starting to warm up to me he just goes right back to being a dick."

"Well, now that you're willing to help me, am I allowed to ask some questions?" I nervously fiddled with my fork, holding my breath as I awaited an answer.

Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I could see his hand grip tightly around his fork "That depends" He inhaled deeply, loosening up just a little as he twirled the fork between his two fingers "What kind of questions do you have?"

Feeling it would be alright now if I did, I turned my full attention towards him. He did the same, resting his head on his free hand, a rather annoyed look on his face. "For starters, where are we?" He furrowed his eyebrows, accidentally letting out a soft chuckle at the strange question. "I know I know it's a weird question but it's something I need to know if I ever want to know where I'm even escaping from."

"Escaping?" His laughter ceased as he abruptly sat down his fork and leaned in closer to me. It was only a little, but it was enough to make me move back a bit on instinct. "No one is keeping you here. If you want to leave just do the same thing you did to get here. If you made a wish, make a new one. If you came through that replica of home, just ask it to bring you back."

"I told you already: I was kidnapped! I don't know how I got here!" I was growing more and more frustrated and confused by the second, especially about how he knew about that mini home in the abandoned studio.

"Look, I'm sorry but I find your story rather hard to believe." Folding his arms, he leaned back in his chair, staring at me intensely. "I mean, there are very few people that know this place exist and if any of them come back, we would know."

His expression turned solemn and dark, peaking my interest even more. "Well who are they? Maybe any strong men with deep raspy voices?"

After shooting me a confused look, he fell silent, staring off at nothing in thought. "No no. Most of them are... the ones that came they..." He sighed in frustration. Clearly, he was trying to make sure he only told me half the truth. "Anyone out there that knows about us knows better than to come here." He concluded, now very tense.

Silence fell thick in the air as I tried to wrap my head around the meaning hidden in his explanation. It was all so vague, which was definitely his goal. "Do you know anyone out there that might have a reason to bring me here?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, he let out a tired sigh. "Look, I definitely don't know anything about you; for all I know you came here because of some dumb dare and made up the story of getting kidnapped so you wouldn't get in trouble."

"Well then how about you get to know me?" The words come out of my mouth before I could even think them.

He glances at me from the corner of his eye with an irritated expression. However, something strange happens; I swear I could see some sort of spark in his eye that makes him loosen up a bit. Opening his mouth to speak, he instead decides against it and turns in his seat to fully face me, leaving me in anticipation. Looking down at his hands, he sighs before once again making unwavering eye contact. "If I'm really going to help you, I need to make one thing clear." I nod, urging him to continue.

"We are not friends. We never will be friends. Im only doing this so that I never have to see you again."