glass

3

ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

≾

techno taps his fingers against the wooden door of his brother's bedroom.

the bus is going to be here any minute and techno hasn't seen the brunette once this morning. usually, techno wouldn't mind being late to school and skipping form, but it's monday today so he has to be there so he and dream can talk about their mutual hatred for juno. or they'll talk about dream's crush on elliot page, it's yet to be decided.

the pinkette hears the rumble of an incoherent hum and takes it as permission as he inches open the door. he leans in, hooking his head around the door.

the room is dark, lights off and curtains still drawn. being late is not a huge deal, especially recently when the school became aware of their mother's death and allowed them much greater leeway with behaviour. still, the pinkette's stomach parts with dread regardless, almost instinctually.

"wil," he says, sounding unintentionally stressed as he steps into the room. "the bus is nearly here, aren't you coming?"

wilbur shakes his head against his cushion, not even seeming to care. he still seems like he's asleep, eyes shut, expression calm, breathing heavy. "don' have to," he slurs slightly, his words coming out muffled against the pillow.

"since when?" techno asks. wilbur has lost his playful side since their mum's death but techno is so used to the brother he used to have that he still thinks the brunette is playing some kind of trick on him, or just lying to get out of science with mister davidson.

"dad said," wilbur mumbles. he's a little more awake-sounding now, but that coherency also comes with the unmissable sound of sadness in his voice. it always lingers now. as soon as he is awake enough to think, he is sad. "depression's worse since bryan died," he adds for clarity.

techno's shoulders square, his brows pulling together. "which bryan?" he asks. his fingers find the door and he runs them down the material for some sense of here-ness.

wilbur barely mumbles, "uncle," before rolling over to face the other way. that is how the brunette clearly intends to end the conversation, obviously not wanting to discuss death any longer, much less the death of a family member.

a family member that techno didn't know had passed.

"when did dad tell you he died?" the pinkette asks. he feels a little shaky as he grips the door, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. he distantly remembers he has a bus to catch but now he's wondering if he should even be going to school.

"thursday night," wilbur says. this time, he pulls his duvet up over his head, properly blocking out the pinkette as he tries to go back to sleep.

techno takes the hint, stepping back out of the room.

when wilbur refused to go to school on friday morning, techno had assumed it was just a generally bad depression day. he thought the same with his twin's sadness over the weekend, just assuming it was continued depression, not something new.