?WilliamEst Oneshots?

William Jakrapatr pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he walked down the dimly lit street. His shift had run late, and now the night air carried a quiet unease with it. His footsteps echoed against the pavement, but something felt off. There was another set of footsteps behind him, a rhythm too deliberate to be coincidence.

His heart pounded as he picked up his pace, but so did the person behind him. Was he imagining it? No—someone was following him. William had never been the type to let fear control him, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.

He abruptly stopped and spun around. “Hey!” he barked, his voice sharp and demanding. “Why are you following me?”

The man in front of him—slightly taller, a bit older—froze in place. His eyes widened slightly, but he made no move to step back or defend himself. Instead, he just stood there, gripping something in his hands.

William’s patience was thin. He took a step closer. “What do you want?” he snapped. His voice was edged with irritation, but beneath that, a flicker of paranoia. “If you’re trying to mess with me, you picked the wrong guy.”

The stranger—Est Supha—looked visibly shaken, his posture tense, his lips parted as if searching for words. But he didn’t interrupt. He let William vent, let him accuse, let him push forward with his suspicion. His hands trembled slightly, his breath uneven, but he didn’t fight back. He just stood there, waiting.

Finally, after William had exhausted his anger, Est hesitantly lifted his hand, revealing a set of keys. William’s keys.

“I… I was just trying to return these,” Est said softly, his voice a stark contrast to William’s earlier aggression. It was quiet, almost fragile, barely above a whisper. “You… dropped them back there.”

The anger in William’s chest dissolved instantly, replaced by a wave of guilt that hit him like a truck. He stared at the keys, then at Est, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear. His hands still trembled slightly as he held them out, his expression wary, as if he were bracing for another verbal attack.

William swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He reached out and took the keys, the metal cool against his fingers. “Oh,” he muttered, feeling utterly stupid. He hesitated, then sighed. “I… uh, sorry.”

Est didn’t say anything at first. He just nodded, his gaze flickering downward before he slowly turned as if to leave.

“Hey,” William called after him, his tone softer now. “Thanks.”

Est gave the faintest of smiles—nervous, uncertain—but nodded again before walking away, disappearing into the night.

And William was left standing there, holding his keys, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world.