❝and when i say i'm in love with you,❞ a long pause lays between his words, so much emotion lacing throughout his eyes, ❝i fucking mean it.❞
-⚘ in which i had a smut book with 400k reads and it got deleted. now, i'm writing new, original chapters (l...
15: TO MAKE YOU FEEL MY LOVE by: bryzknowstheuniverse (ao3) b+r+s
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It was a cold night in December, Stan moved throughout his room tidying up and making sure that everything was in its rightful place before he got ready for bed. He knew that if he got into bed before these things were done, that he would never be able to sleep, his OCD ridden brain would twist and torment until he was riled up into a complete panic. No. It was better to take care of things before they escalated. Stan's 17 years had taught him that much.
When things were to Stan's liking he nodded to himself and went to pull a pair of crisp pajamas from his drawer and began to get undressed. He had just pulled on his pajama pants when he heard a tapping on his window, Stan startled at the surprise, but walked quickly to the window. He opened it to find none other than his best friend Bill Denbrough.
Bill was shivering, dark circles and hollowed cheeks standing out against the pretty features of his face. His blue eyes were red, and Stan could faintly see tear tracks down his face. He helps Bill in through the window, careful to not make too much noise. His parents were asleep in their bedroom downstairs, and while Stan knew they slept like the dead, he didn't want to press his luck. Once inside, Bill just stands there, head down and sniffling slightly. Stan knows just what to do, this isn't their first time doing this.
He stepped forward and opened his arms, waiting for Bill to accept his gesture. Bill fell forward, his cold face burying itself into Stan's neck and arms wrapping around the much shorter boy. Stan shivered slightly, realizing that he never got around to putting his pajama shirt on, but brushed it off and wrapped his arms around Bill. Rubbing soothing circles on his back.
Stan waited until the convulsions in Bill's chest stopped and then patted him on the back, pulling away and moving to sit on the edge of his bed. Bill slung his jacket off, and folded it, carefully setting it on Stan's windowseat, not wanting to destroy the boy's organization. Then joined Stan on his bed. They were quiet for a few moments, before Stan broke the silence.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He had to ask, even though he already knew the answer, it was always the same.
"Wh-what's there t-to talk about?" Bill questioned softly, careful to not deflect any anger or hurt towards the other boy, it wasn't his fault that Bill's life was shit. "N-no one is h-home...t-they don't g-give a s-sh-shit. N-no one c-cares..."
"I care." Stan interjected, he couldn't stop himself, he knew that Bill was talking about his parents and that he needed their approval and validation. But dammit he cared about Bill, loads of people did, and Bill deserved to know that too.
"I k-know you d-do, and I ap-appreciate t-that...b-but it's d-different..." Bill said softly, ducking his head again.
They are both broken out of their trains of thought when they hear some sort of pained wailing from outside Stan's still open window. Stan and Bill rushed to the window to see what was going on.
