Chapter Four ~ Admittance
The night passed slowly before the sun crept through the crack of the curtain in Damien's bedroom. The light went over Damien's closed eyes. He felt it and groaned softly, waking up. Damien saw a note beside him and read it with a raised brow.
If you need me, I'm still in the room I always stayed in. ~Wil
Damien smiled, but his head hurt which caused him to groan softly again. He saw the pain killers and the glass of water and immediately took them.
The pills start working within twenty minutes and numbed the headache quickly once they did. Damien sighed and got up. He went to the room Wilford was in according to the note he left.
The door of Wilford's room was left open a crack, so he slowly went inside of the room.
Wilford was passed out on the bed. Sheets tossed loosely across his hips and legs. He was shirtless, one arm draped over his stomach and the other tucked under the pillow. The room was a mess, shattered picture frames and glass on the ground along with old torn photos.
Damien saw Wilford and blushed at how hot he looked. He slowly walked over and pulled the blanket over him, to which he mumbled softly and shifted to his side, remaining asleep. Something familiar peeked out from under his pillow.
Damien saw this and raised a brow. He recognized it as his cane. It was the only thing in this place that was in one piece and free of dust, as if it was handled frequently.
The former mayor slowly and gently picked the cane up. He smiled contentedly at it.
Wilford mumbled and rolled onto his stomach, clearly prone to tossing and turning. His pale skin displayed old and new scars, and a bad, deep wound on his side that had stained the sheets crimson.
Damien's eyes widened at the sight of the scars. He found himself worried for Wilford. He wished that he could've done something that would have stopped him from hurting himself.
After a moment, Wilford groaned softly in his sleep and his hands slid along his sheets and under the pillow, searching.
When he didn't find what he was searching for, he jolted up in confusion and pulled the pillow away, looking in worry before he saw Damien, holding the cane. Wil jumped in shock, falling back off the bed on the other side.
"I-I'm sorry! A-Are you alright?" Damien looked over the other side of the bed.
He groans softly, laying on his back. "Yeah... you just startled me..." Wilford was just in a pair of light pink pajama pants that hung off his waist as if they were a little loose. He shifted and used the bedside table to start to help him to stand.
"S-Sorry..." Damien walked over to try and help Wilford up.
He tensed when Damien touched him and looked at him, unsure.
"What's wrong...? Am I doing something wrong?"
Wilford shook his head. "No, no, I just..." He looked away and frowned softly, walking over to his armchair beside the window and slumping into it, grabbing a smoke.
Damien sighed and looked out of the window.
Wilford glanced outside as well. His room had a nice view of the garden, overrun with weeds and no longer tended to. It was covered in a thin layer of frost. Damien smiled calmly at the sight while Wilford looked up at him from his seated position, just watching him silently.
Damien continued to look outside from the window, a small smile on his face.
The pink haired man smiled softly and blew smoke out the window, observing Damien watching the smoke dance in the air, making his small smile grow a bit more.
When he finished the smoke he flicked the end of it out the window, letting it land in the frost and extinguish. He stood up but, being a bit clumsy still, he tripped over a broken frame and fell into Damien.
Damien's eyes widen a little as he caught his friend, wrapping him in his arms. "Y-You okay...?"
The clumsy man's face flushed red and he chuckled nervously. "F-Fine... you know me. Clumsy old Wil."
Damien chuckled, before Wilford went to pull away from him, nervous. Without thinking, Damien pulled Wilford closer to him, not wanting the other man to move.
His face flushed. "...D-Damien."
"Hm...?" Damien blushed a little at the closeness, but kept his arms around Wilford as the other man's hands grabbed the fabric of his shirt.
"You... last night you..." Wilford looked away.
"I-I what...?" Damien suddenly got nervous. Did I say what I think I said...? He nervously thought to himself.
Wilford was tense, nervous. He stayed quiet, his heart hammering, his breathing shallow and quick as he squeezed his eyes shut, fear rolling off of him in waves.
"H-Hey... what's wrong?" The former mayor tried to calm Wilford's breathing down.
"You told me you love me." Wilford admitted suddenly, and looked up at him, fear and distrust written all over his face.
Damien blushed a deep red. Apparently I did... He thought.
Wilford pulled back and swallowed. "Like... l-like a brother, like a friend... r-right?"
"...i-it's honestly... it's honestly more than that..." Damien whispered, looking down in shame and trying to hide his blush.
The older man pulled away fully, looking nervous. "I..." He looked away.
"I-I'm so sorry... I-I couldn't help b-but feel th-that way..." Damien started to tear up, knowing that he screwed up big time.
"...I'm not someone you want to love, Damien." Wilford whispered gently, looking down. "I'm no longer who I used to be. I'm... wrong. A failure. Mistake. I'm... broken. I can promise you that you would not be happy investing time and emotion into me."
Wilford pulled away and half limped out of the room, leaving Damien there alone, staring down at the floor, shaking gently.
Damien couldn't help but break down crying. He fucked up, he knew he did. He knew that there was no way he could fix this.
Wilford walked down and outside into the garden and sat, thinking. He closed his eyes tightly, scared. Most of his mind didn't believe what had happened. He shivered, still in his clothes that he slept in, flakes of snow clinging to his skin.
After moments of crying, Damien wrote a note and left the manor without a word.
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Shattered Glass | Wilford Warfstache, Mayor Damien
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