roommates; solangelo

040

~Holy shit guys. Forty Chapter. Thank you all so much for reading, seriously. I love you guys. Also, thanks for 6.6k reads! Sorry for how long this chapter took to come out, but I love you all so much, and love reading your comments!~

It's been about a month now since Will has gotten back from the hospital. I can't help but notice the stress he is in. He keeps driving back from the apartment to his mom's house. I can tell he is running himself thin to make sure he's with me and with his mom.

In all honesty, I know he feels bad for me. I know that's stupid to think, but I know Will, and he could tell I had missed him, and he felt bad for making me feel the way I did, but I love him too much to watch him kill himself over this, and while, I do appreciate the gesture, I'm getting more scared every day.

The drive to Naomi's is at least four hours, and while that doesn't seem bad, he leaves before I wake up, and arrives once I fall asleep. I fall asleep around three, and I try to stay up for him, because I want to know about his day, I love him, of course I want to know, but whenever he gets home and collapses down next to me to where I wake up, I know he's so tired, so I just run my fingers through his hair until he falls asleep.

Once he goes to bed, I fall asleep after, and I wake up a few hours later, like two, as Will gets ready to make the four-hour drive back to Naomi's so he can get there around 9 for breakfast. I'm not upset I can't see him, well, I mean, of course I am, I hate the fact we barely speak, but I understand why.

He's doing it because he also feels guilty for Tim leaving Naomi. I mean, I know how he had always felt about when Naomi's boyfriends left, and even though Tim was a dick head, Will felt guilty, I just knew he did, so he went to his mom's house to help out till 11 o' clock before heading back, arriving at three, and repeating the cycle.

He was slowly killing himself. Two hours of sleep isn't enough for anyone, and the amount of tea he was drinking couldn't be good for anyone, and I know I'm one to speak, but gods, I was getting so fucking worried.

He was driving on two hours of sleep every 24 hours and he was going to crash. He was going to get hurt again, and this time, though I tried not to dwell on the fact, he might not make it. I couldn't have Will dead over guilt. Yet, what was I supposed to say?

"Hey, Solace, glad you're better, can you stop seeing your newly widowed mother so you can be with me more and I can monitor your sleeping patterns?"

Okay, no, maybe.

"Hey, Solace, glad you're better, can you stop seeing your extremely worried boyfriend so you can get better with your mom and half siblings?"

Both of those scenarios were shit, and I know that, but gods, I wish there was a better way of getting it across because no matter how I word it, it's what it will come out as. It will come out as I don't want him anymore or as I don't want him seeing his mother anymore, and that wasn't the case, I just didn't want him getting hurt.

It was seven now, Will would arrive at Naomi's at nine. Then, I could stop stressing. Whenever I knew he was driving, I held onto my phone religiously, and I wasn't even religious. I was afraid the cops would call and tell me he was in a crash or died on the scene. It was definitely not good for my anxiety. Yet, that's what you do for the people you love, right?

I wouldn't know, I don't exactly have a lot of experience in relationships. I take a sip of my coffee as I sit on the couch. The TV was off, my phone was in my hand. I had just called an Uber to come to pick me up, but it was around ten minutes away.

I sat down, just waiting.

Around five minutes later, my phone had gone off, I freaked, but realized it was just an update on the location of my Uber. I took a deep breath, sighing in relief as I walked out of my apartment, turning a blind eye at the figure four doors down.