a/n: the attention this book is getting is sooo unreal 😭😭 tysm 🫶🫶🫶🫶
I'm startled awake by loud noises next door. I sit up, realizing I fell asleep on the couch. I sigh and click my phone, seeing the time reads two in the morning. I stand up, ready to get in my bed, but suddenly hear yelling from Wilbur's apartment.
I bang my fist on our shared wall multiple times, trying to send a message, but instead I hear his voice at my door a few seconds later.
I swing it open, ready to scold him for being so loud, but my focus only goes to his hands. Blood completely covers them, small and large gashes all over his knuckles.
"I need help," He mumbles, choking on his words as tears race down his cheeks.
"Holy fuck, Wilbur!" I grab his arm and pull him inside, not shutting the door, though. "What did you do?"
"I got mad and threw stuff around and punched my shower door too many times."
"What the hell?" I groan, grabbing a towel from my closet and wrapping it around his hands. "Where are your keys?"
"Don't take me to the hospital." He whines. "I hate it there. Please,"
I shake my head. "You're losing a lot of blood. You're already soaking my towel. You're gonna pass out in the next half hour if I don't get you some actual help."
He continues to beg me not to take him, but I ignore his pleas. I carefully reach into his pocket and grab his keys, slipping on shoes and holding his arm as I escort us to our parking garage. With how fancy Wilbur's car is, I'm a bit worried to drive it in the city, but I don't really have a choice.
"What made you angry enough to punch your god damn shower?"
He doesn't respond immediately, just staring down at his hands. "Why do you care?"
"I don't like you very much, but I don't want you ruining your hands over something stupid."
"It doesn't matter." Wilbur mutters, using his shoulder to wipe his face.
I drop the conversation and focus on getting through the traffic, still ridiculous even so late at night. We reach the closest hospital and I walk him into the first door we find. A nurse gasps as she sees the bright red towel, previously white, and quickly ushers us to a giant room lined with beds, most having curtains giving the patients privacy as they sleep.
As he's being cleaned up and stitched, he's asked multiple times why he did this. He gives them to same answer he gave to me, so the nurse asks me instead.
I just shrug. "I'm just his neighbor. He lives alone, so he wasn't hurting anyone, if that's what you're insinuating."
She just nods and quietly talks to Wilbur as she finishes up, wrapping bandages around both of his hands. He sinks down in his bed, his face scrunched in pain.
"Who do you want me to call?" I ask, sitting back in my chair right next to him. "I'm gonna go home."
"No one,"
"You have to have a friend who's up at this hour. I don't want you to be here alone."
Wilbur looks over at me with sad eyes. "Eve, you're the only person I know in this city. And one of the few people I know in general."
"Oh," I whisper, feeling a bit bad, but not too surprised. "What about your friend who dated Blair?"
"He moved away."
I wait for him to make a bad comment about her, but he doesn't, so I decide to stay with him. "Wilbur, just tell me why you got so mad."
He looks back up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. "I hate my ex. I hate how you think I still love her. I don't. I hate London and everyone who lives there except my mum. I hate that I can't have you when you're the first person I've needed in forever. I hate that you're with someone else. I hate how that someone else is Blair. I hate that you hate me. Especially after the amazing week we had. The prettiest woman in the world hates me."
I stare at him, digesting all what he said. I sigh and bring my knees up to my chest. Unfortunately, it's hard to hate such a beautiful person. "Wilbur, I don't hate you. You just... piss me off. You were a lot better for the whole week until I slept with Blair."
"Can you blame me? I thought you finally liked me. You could've at least talked to me before making the rash decision, especially right next to me, knowing I'd hear it all."
I rub my tired eyes with my fists. "To be fair, I do regret that. I mean, I don't regret sleeping with Blair. But I should've talked to you about what happened first so you weren't caught by surprise. So, I'm sorry about that."
"Okay," He whispers, still not looking at me. "You don't have to stay."
"I don't mind."
I except our wait to take a few more hours, but in just another half hour a doctor visits us and checks Wilbur. He says a lot of medical shit I don't understand, but basically leaves him with pain medicine and advice to not use his hands too much for a few weeks, then to come and get his stitches removed. He can take the bandages off by tomorrow, but his hands look really freaky with the stitches, so they just give him extra rolls of bandages to make sure he changes them often. I stand with Wilbur at the front desk as he pays, then we go back to his car. He insists on driving but I refuse.
"So, uh, how long ago did your friend move?" I ask as we sit at a red light.
"Few months ago."
"So you've been alone that whole time?"
"Basically,"
I understand him, remembering how lonely most of school was, until Sofia and I became best friends. I can't imagine not having a person to hang out with again, especially for such a long time. Sure, Blair and Wilbur are the only people I know here, but better than no one. "I'm sorry."
"Doesn't bother me." He mutters, running his finger over his bandages. "I don't like trusting people. You're the only exception."
"Why?"
He hesitates a few seconds before answering. "No matter how mean I am to you, you're still nice to me. It's ridiculous and I don't deserve it. Why do you do that?"
To be completely honest with myself, it's because I have feelings for him. Which is so insanely dumb. Why do I like a guy who is awful to me and the girl I like for no reason? But then I look at him, and think about our last week and how good I felt with him. And we weren't even actually dating.
"I don't like being mean to people." I answer, deciding to not tell him the truth.
"Oh. Well, thanks."
I glance over at him before looking back at the road. "You're welcome, Wilbur."
