Not a Fan (Wilbur Soot)

Backtracking

"What color did it used to be?" Wilbur asked, reaching up to wipe a tear that had fallen, despite her silent pleads for it to stay concealed. 

"Purple." Aurora's voice cracked as she spoke, more tears sliding down. 

"Purple." Wilbur repeated, gently guiding her head to his shoulder. 

"Bright, electric, neon purple. It was my favorite color." She talked through the cries that escaped her. This was her first time allowing herself to grieve what she had lost. The piece of her that she never got back.

"It sounds beautiful." Wilbur murmured, wrapping his arm around her, allowing her to fully melt into his chest. 

They stayed like this for several minutes. Her tears soaking through his slept in t-shirt. Wilbur's hand rubbing circles on her back. The occasional hush from his lips. 

Aurora finally pulled back, keeping her face down as she wiped the residual tears into the sleeves of her sweater. Wilbur brought a hand to her cheek, pulling her face up to meet his. He had a slight smile on his face, his eyes heavy. 

"Sorry for putting all that on you. I don't mean to be a burden." She apologized while he slid his thumb across her damp cheek, his smile slowly leaving as his brows tensed in confusion. 

"You didn't put anything on me. You put it out in the open for us to look at together. You're not a burden, Aurora. I'm sorry for whoever made you feel like you are." Wilbur's face finally relaxed, his eyes flicking between her eyes and her lips.

God. 

I'm not a burden?

She reached to place a hand on the side of his neck, the space between them already decreasing, 

I'm not a burden. 

Their lips met gently, slow kisses building until there weren't any breaks. 

I am not a burden. 

His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. The small bench beneath them creaked as they adjusted, causing the kiss to pause. A light laugh escaped both of them. Now they both regretted not moving to the couch before starting this conversation.

Hands slid away from each other, returning to their laps. Shy eyes avoided connection as they pulled away.

Aurora stood from the bench slowly, stretching as her feet landed on the cool hardwood floorboards. Wilbur soon followed, walking along side her as she gathered her belongings off the counter top. 

"You're heading out?" Wilbur sounded a bit confused, the sound of her keys dragging along the granite cutting into his voice. There was an unspoken feeling between them, like Aurora belonged in his apartment. 

"Yeah, I actually have to log into work soon. Um, but thanks again for letting me crash here." She bit her tongue to avoid apologizing for the outburst of emotion again, repeating his words in her head, "not a burden."  Her words felt meek, like they were purposefully asking for a rebuttal. 

"Oh, right, of course. Well, you're, uh, welcome here anytime." Wilbur's voice waivered between his words. It was clear to her that neither of them was going to address the tension. Neither would admit they didn't want her to go. 

"I'll see you later." She waved, stepping through his door and into the hallway. 

The door of her apartment creaked as it opened, the walls greeted her with memories of her own life. Her own belongings scattered through half unpacked boxes and clothes tossed on the floor. 

The familiar feeling of dread and general discomfort began to settle in. The white walls bathed in the sunlight, the stagnant air that still held the smell of burnt remains. And god, the silence was unbearable. 

Moments ago she felt like her life was clicking in place, like she finally wanted to be herself, unapologetically. Now, in the discomfort of her own home, she wanted to retreat into the shell of a person she had been for the last year. 

Was it really Wilbur that made her feel this way, or was it just that he was a person who saw her for what she really was and made the conscious decision to stay? Not forced to stay because they're family. Not obligated to stay because of years of friendship. Just a completely unbiased person who saw her and decided she was worth it.

Shit. 

Did she have feelings for him or did she just allow herself to feel around him? 

Shit. 

Was Wilbur just turning into her therapist? Someone who see's her breakdowns but doesn't run away. A person who helps her when she's struggling. A person who unconditionally supports her, encouraging her to step out of her comfort zone. 

Shit. 

This was the last thing she wanted. Brighton was supposed to make her get better, not a person. She couldn't let herself be dependent on someone else, let alone a near stranger. She needed to do this for herself- get better for herself. Not for someone else, not her mom, or Niki, or even Wilbur. She needed to believe that she was worth putting effort into. 

Aurora collapsed into her desk chair, her reflection blocked by the mid morning sun glaring against the screen. How could she do a full days worth of work when she just realized her one new connection in Brighton is possibly just a makeshift therapist. 

Her screen came to life. She clicked through her internet tabs, ignoring all the work emails that came flooding in. She opened a new window, going straight to her search engine. 

Therapists in Brighton, England.

"I guess I'm going back to therapy." She sighed to herself, sifting through the dozens of profiles the appeared with the search. 

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(2,290 words)