Byler Oneshots

Will:-

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

I looked down at our intertwined hands, feeling the warmth and comfort they provided. Mike squeezed my hand gently, his gaze never leaving my face. "It's okay if you're not ready," he said softly, sensing my inner turmoil. "I just want you to know how I feel."

Tears welled up in my eyes, the conflict between my father's harsh judgment and the love I felt for Mike tearing me apart. "I... I want to," I whispered, my voice trembling. "But I'm scared."

Mike pulled me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on my head. "We'll take it slow," he promised, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'm here for you, Will. No matter what."

His words broke through the fog of doubt, filling me with a sense of safety I hadn't felt in a long time. I took a deep breath, leaning into his embrace. "Okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. I want to be your boyfriend."

Mike pulled back slightly, his eyes shining with joy and relief. "Really?" he asked, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Really," I confirmed, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering pain.

He laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "You have no idea how happy you've made me," he murmured.

We started walking again. "I have to take you home now," Mike said, glancing at his watch.

I smiled and asked, "Why?"

"I promised your mom," he replied with a grin.

I rolled my eyes at him. "You can't be serious!"

He chuckled. "I owe her, you know. She made this whole dinner date happen."

I stopped in my tracks, surprised. "How?"

Mike turned to face me, a fond smile on his lips. "She called me, She said you needed me and wanted to see me. So, she set this all up."

I blinked, processing his words. "But Mom doesn't have your number."

"She talked to me through Max's phone," he explained. "Apparently, she was at your house."

I felt a wave of emotion wash over me—gratitude for my mom's support. "She did all that for me?" I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.

Mike nodded, his eyes soft with affection. "She cares about you, Will. And so do I."

*

He drove me home, and all I could think about was how to open this conversation with Mom. When we got there, I went inside and found her sitting on the couch, watching TV. I sat on the other side of the couch, my mind racing.

"Did you enjoy, honey?" she asked happily, turning to look at me.

"Yeah," I nodded, forcing a smile.

I wanted to thank her, to tell her about what was happening between Mike and me, but the words felt stuck in my throat. My mind was a jumble of emotions—gratitude, fear, confusion. How do you thank someone for orchestrating something so important, so life-changing, without falling apart? And how do you share such a deep, personal part of yourself when you're still grappling with it?