(just a cute lil filler. Next chapter though, yall better have your socks ready or something. Idk.)
As the low hum of William’s car disappeared into the night, you lingered on the porch, one hand gripping the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping you upright. The air was cool, but your skin burned where his hand had been, your mind a whirlwind of almosts and what-ifs. You hadn’t moved since he’d left—since Jack had ruined everything.
Why did he have to show up now of all times? The memory of William leaning in, the subtle, unspoken connection sparking between you two, replayed in your mind, only to be rudely cut short by the image of Jack’s headlights piercing through the night. Your first kiss with him—ruined by your cocky, and opinionated brother.
You inhaled deeply, forcing the sharp chill of the night into your lungs. It didn’t help. The tightness in your chest didn’t ease, and the echo of William’s footsteps, the low rasp of his goodbye, lingered.
With a sigh, you pushed the door open, the familiar creak grating against your already frayed nerves. Jack was there, sprawled across your couch like he owned the place, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. His sedan keys sat boldly on the coffee table, their casual placement screaming his intention to stay without so much as asking.
Make yourself at home- you thought bitterly.
“Well, well,” he drawled, his phone sliding from his hand as he gave you his full attention. “Quite the gentleman, isn’t he? Walking you to the door, holding your hand... real Prince Charming material.”
“Jack, don’t.” Your tone was sharper than you intended, but the exhaustion from the emotional whiplash left little room for patience.
“Just an observation.” His grin was infuriating, lazy, and knowing all at once. “Didn’t peg you for the ‘rich older guy’ type, though. But hey, who am I to judge?”
You turned away, dropping your phone onto the counter with a clatter. “Then don’t,” you shot back, your voice taut. “I don’t need your commentary.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, sitting up slightly. “It’s not like I’m wrong. Your mentor? Fifteen years older? Ex-wife and kids? Yeah, sounds totally normal, Y/N. Real healthy dynamic you’ve got going there.”
The knot in your stomach tightened, his words a brutal echo of your own silent doubts. “It’s my life,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “And it’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” His tone was sharper now, cutting through your defense with ease. “Face it, sis, the guy’s got ‘midlife crisis’ written all over him. And you’re what? The bright, shiny distraction he needs to feel good about himself?”
You flinched. That one hit too close.
“Jack!” The anger in your voice masked the ache forming in your chest. “That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not,” he said, shrugging, “but it’s true, isn’t it? I mean, why else would he go for you? No offense, but let’s be real here. You’re young, inexperienced, and, frankly, kind of a mess right now.”
You froze, his words landing with the weight of truths you’d tried to bury. You crossed your arms, glaring at him even as you felt the sting of tears behind your eyes. “Wow, Jack. Don’t hold back or anything.”
But deep down, his words struck a chord. Weren’t those the same fears you’d tried to ignore? The nagging voice in your head that whispered, Why would someone like him want someone like you?
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely concealed. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk. I just—this guy? I don’t get it. What’s in it for him? And more importantly, what’s in it for you? Do you actually think this is going anywhere?”
YOU ARE READING
Death Of Me (William Afton X Reader)
Fanfiction(Read the before i begin section for more details) When you anticipated that Henry Emily would be your sponsor for your apprenticeship, it came as a shocking disappointment to learn that his business partner, William Afton, would be stepping in inst...
