guitar

1

 He stood there, moving the hair out of the boys sleeping face, hand ghosting over his bangs in a small note of affection. The two living boys slept, leaning on one another on the tattered couch. They had a long day of fun and games before they both wore themselves out to sleep, one sleeping quietly and softly, the other snoring in a loud fashion.

The quiet boy's face was relaxed in his sleep, the person standing next to the two sleeping boys found it funny how even in his sleep, his resting face had an expression of happiness and love. The snoring child's face was also relaxed, but he held a note of peace. When waking the child's face was usually in a smiling and laughing manner, but right now his face held no note of a smile. The man standing next to them found that odd.

The man himself was quiet, not even his footsteps making a sound as he walked around the couch. His hair kept falling into his eyes, messy and all over the place as usual.

The man patted each of the boys on the head once, before going to the other side of the small room.

The room was small, with only space for a couch, and a tv. The two sleeping boys considered it a gaming room. To the tall man it was little but a closet, the thought made him smile, though, as a memory surfaced.

The louder child had recently moved to a new house, and in the children's search, they had found the tiny closet.

Tubbo opened the door and immediately sneezed as dust flew at his face. Tommy began to laugh big and boisterously as Tubbo sneezed thrice more and rubbed at his now red nose.

"Wow, Tommy! You could use this as a gaming room, it's a little small, but it'll work right?" Tubbo said, facing his friend who had recently stopped laughing. Tommy went to peek his head inside the small room and his blue eyes lit up at the idea.

"Tubbo, Tubbo your fantastic!" Tommy exclaimed.

The two boys spent the rest of the evening setting up the little room with Tommy's mother's permission. Wilbur silently laughed at the fond memory, shoulders heaving up and down. Little did the boys know Wilbur had been among them, watching and making sure they didn't do anything too idiotic.

Wilbur moved to the only other item in the room, a guitar. It was sitting against the wall in the corner next to the tv, Wilbur had played a lot in past lives, and sometimes when the boys were sleeping he'd pick up this guitar, sitting in the corner.

Tommy had gotten it for his birthday a few years back, insisting he needed it to play and seduce ladies. He had picked it up, strummed a few chords, realized how much work it would take for him to be considered good, and put it back down. Never to be touched again.

Wilbur was okay with that though because it meant he could play a little himself while the boys were sleeping.

He slowly sat down, cross-legged in the corner, and put the guitar in his lap. He looked at sleeping Tommy and Tubbo's face for a second, watching the boys drift off in their peaceful sleep. Wilbur envied that, at times. The ability to drift off into a peaceful state.

He let his hand guide him into a soft song, slowly strumming the chords and smiling to himself and he played.

Doing this he had to be careful, not wanting to wake the sleeping boys. He moved the hair out of his eyes and began to hum along to the soft notes coming from the guitar. He looked up-to see Tommy stir a tad bit, his hands stopped for a second until he saw Tommy's eyes shutter open and closed.

_____

Tommy kept drifting in and out of his sleep, his dreams had become muddled, but there was still this sense of calmness that was flooding over him. His eyes fluttered a bit as he stirred up. He heard guitar chords. Odd. He had stopped playing guitar forever ago. Perhaps it was whispering remnants of his dreams.

He could see the outline of a strange, messy-haired fellow on the floor, playing with his guitar. He didn't think much of it as he drifted back asleep.

_____

Wilburs hands resumed their pace strumming at chords as he began to sing as well, which he rarely does. But today he couldn't help himself as he softly sang the words that popped in his head, to fit the soft melody of the guitar.

"I'm trying to ignore the skyline," his words were so soft they were quiet to hear, but that was okay. The song was just for him, not for the two sleeping boys. Although a part of Wilbur wished they could hear it as well. Wilbur had gotten used to everything being for him, it didn't bother him as much anymore. But he still wished for the human touch of others and the praise they gave for what you had created.

But he was okay with what he had.

Not exactly happy, but not exactly sad either. Just okay. Watching the boys made him feel better often, not so alone.

"So I don't figure out were you-"

______

Tommy's eyes finally began to peel open, and this time he heard soft singing, it was calming and beautiful. He opened his eyes sluggishly, with an afternoon-nap kind of sluggish. He could feel Tubbos head resting upon his shoulder as the soft singing continued and weaved its way through the air.

He opened his eyes fully, to try and see where the source of the music was coming from. He saw a man he often saw in his dreams. With big round glasses, a guitar in his lap, and a big red turtle neck sweater on, not to mention insane hair.

He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing things correctly, only to see the man had disappeared. The only thing remaining was the guitar strewn on the floor. Not wanted to wake Tubbo, he didn't move to check it out. He gazed at the corner where the guitar was until he drifted once more into a deep sleep, to forget about the strange man once more.