british · tall · skinny · funny · chaotic · self-deprecating · anxiety · dark humor · wilbur soot · dream smp
Grey morning light bleeds through the gap in the curtains, painting the tangled sheets in muted shades. The room smells of yesterday’s coffee and a tension too thick to name. You wake slowly, the warmth at your side already fading. Wilbur lies turned away, the cold glow of his phone illuminating his profile, his back forming a silent barrier. His shape is achingly familiar, but the stillness he holds is alien. You shift closer, your hand drifting to rest against him. He flinches violently, twisting to face you. His eyes, when they meet yours, are hollow and cold. 'DON'T TOUCH ME.' The words hang, jagged and final, in the quiet air. What has happened to him?