Chapter Text
“Never mind. I can’t take this!” Wille’s voice cracked, teetering on the edge of control as he bolted toward the door of the music room.
“Can we just-“
“I can’t take this, Simon!” Wille cut him off, his frustration spilling out, his voice louder now.
“Can… Can we just talk?” Simon tried again as Wille slammed the door closed behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating. Simon leaned against the piano, letting out a heavy sigh as he buried his head in his hands.
Wille POV:
Wille stormed out of the music room, the door slamming shut behind him. Fuck. He cursed himself, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. He’d messed up—again. Why did they always fight? Every time he tried to keep things under control, it unravelled. He didn’t understand why he kept reacting like this, why the smallest things set him off, why he was always so angry. At everything.Felice, standing by her locker, looked up as soon as she heard the door slam. When she spotted Wille, her expression shifted from surprise to concern. She closed her locker and walked over to him, her steps cautious.
“Wille?” Her voice was soft, careful. “Is… everything okay?”
Wille met her eyes. He swallowed, trying to push down the lump forming in his throat. “No,” he exhaled, barely able to keep his voice steady. “We… we had a fight.”
Felice didn’t pry, just stood there for a moment, her eyes scanning his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Wille shook his head. “I… I don’t know. I just…” His voice cracked slightly, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to block out the thoughts racing in his mind. “I don’t want to think about anything right now.”
Felice nodded, understanding his need for escape. “That’s okay,” she said softly, offering him a small, comforting smile. “Do you want to go to my room? We could watch a movie or something. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
Wille looked at her, grateful for the simplicity of her offer. No pressure, no questions—just a chance to breathe. He nodded slowly. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”
Felice gave him a reassuring look, leading him down the hall toward her room, letting the silence between them be enough for now.
They were fighting again. Why did it always end like this? Every time he tried to be there for Wille, to help, it turns out wrong. It only seemed to push him further away. Simon didn’t understand. He wanted to ease Wille’s pain, but the harder he tried, the more Wille resisted. It was as if Wille was putting up walls faster than Simon could tear them down.
Simon doesn’t want to fight, not about this, not now, not when it’s Wille’s birthday tomorrow and that’s already causing so much stress. For both of them.
But he couldn’t leave things like this. He couldn’t go home without fixing this.
Simon forced himself to breathe deeply, fighting the knot tightening in his chest. He had to fix this. He needed to find Wille, to apologize, to make things right. All Simon wanted was for Wille to be okay. For them to be okay.
Simon stepped out of the music room, his mind racing. Wille’s room—that was the first place to check.
He knocked on the door. No answer.
“Wille?” Simon’s voice was soft, almost pleading, as he knocked again, louder this time. Silence.
“Wille? Can I please come in?” He was met with silence, again.
He hesitated, then gently pushed the door open. “Wille, I’m sorry, I—” His apology died on his lips. The room was empty.
Simon closed the door behind him and looked around. Wille’s room wasn’t too messy – except his for desk, he can never get around to organising it properly – safe for some paper lying next to his bed. When Simon crouched to pick it up, he recognised it as one of the pictures of Erik and Wille that had hung on Wille’s wall.
A picture with Erik lying discarded on the floor. This just proved that Wille was hurt, a lot, by this revelation about Erik.
Why wouldn’t Wille let him in? Why didn’t he want Simon’s comfort? The questions gnawed at him, but the answer remained out of reach, just beyond his grasp.
He needed to keep searching.
Simon wandered the halls, retracing his steps near the music room, his thoughts racing. Maybe Wille hadn’t gone far. The library, perhaps. He spotted a familiar group sitting together at a nearby table—Stella, Frederika, and Maddy. Maybe they knew where Wille had gone.
He approached, his voice hesitant. “Hey, uhm… have you guys seen Wille?”
Maddy glanced up from her phone. “Yeah, he walked by with Felice earlier.”
Simon felt a strange mixture of relief and frustration wash over him. At least Wille wasn’t alone, but why hadn’t he sought him out? Why Felice? He swallowed hard. “Oh… okay. Thanks.”
Felice. They must be in her room then.
Simon stood still for a moment, gathering his thoughts, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he needed to find Wille, but doubt gnawed at him. Would Wille even want to see him right now? Would he just push him away again?
Taking a deep breath, Simon set off toward Felice’s room. He didn’t have a plan, not really. But he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t giving up on Wille, not tonight. Not ever.
Wille’s POV: In Felice’s room:
“I really don’t think Simon meant any harm. He was just shocked,” Felice said gently, her eyes searching Wille’s face.“Yeah, I guess he was, but…”Wille replied, his voice quieter, as if he were still wrestling with the situation in his head.
“I, for one, am really glad you told me. I really want to know what’s true and not true in all this.”
“It’s different with you cause you knew Erik. You saw his good sides. Simon never got the chance.” Wille said sadly, his gaze falling to the floor.
Wille’s voice wavered as he continued. “It can’t be him. Erik was the one that I… He was the reasonable one. He was the one I could trust. He was my brother,” Wille’s voice broke. “and now,” he took a shaky breath, “now I don’t even know if he would’ve liked me,” he admitted.
“Of course he would,” Felice countered.
“But, hey…” she started. But Wille interrupted. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. What colour would you like? How about some, uh-” a knock sounded from the door. “Wille?“ Simon. Wille immediately jumped up, his heart skipping a beat as he rushed to the door.
Simon stood outside the door, heart pounding. He took a steadying breath before knocking, hoping he’d find the right words this time. “Wille?” he called out softly. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Wille on the other side.
“Simon.”
Before Wille could say more, Simon rushed into his apology, the words spilling out in a frantic tumble. “Wille, I’m sorry. I said the wrong things and I shouldn’t have compared Erik to Sara. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to fight with you." Simon rambled.
“Simon-“
“Not when it’s your birthday tomorrow. Not ever.”
“Simon!”
“I’m so sorry,” Simon continued, barely pausing to breathe. “You’re hurting and I only made it worse. I just-“
“Simon, stop.” Wille’s voice was gentle but firm. He stepped closer and took Simon’s hands, squeezing them lightly to ground him. Simon fell silent, his breath shaky.
“I should be the one apologizing,” Wille said, looking Simon in the eye. “Everything went wrong, and you were just trying to help me. I got defensive, and I took it out on you. I should’ve let you in, let you comfort me, but instead, I got angry.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Simon. I didn’t mean to shut you out, and I don’t want to fight either. I’ve been so distant these past few days, and I should’ve just told you how I was feeling. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Wille’s voice cracked as he continued, “I’m so fucking sorry, Simon.”
Simon’s heart clenched as he watched the vulnerability in Wille’s face. Without thinking, he pulled Wille into his arms, holding him close. The tension, the fight, the pain—all of it seemed to dissolve in that single embrace. In this moment, there was no Erik, no pressure, no past wounds—just the two of them, forgiving each other.
“Can you promise to tell me how you feel? Let me be there for you. Okay? Please don’t shut me out again.”
“I promise.” Wille pulled Simon closer.
“I love you,” Simon whispered against Wille’s hair.
“I love you too,” Wille whispered back.
Wille pulled back slightly, their eyes locking for a brief second before he leaned in, kissing Simon softly. The kiss deepened, full of the unspoken promise that they would get through this together, no matter how hard it seemed.
They broke apart only when they heard an exaggerated cough from behind. Felice, she just heard everything.
“Oh, sorry,” Wille chuckled.
“So, uhm, what were you doing before?” Simon asked, glancing around the room and noticing the nail polish scattered across the floor, still holding Wille’s hand.
Wille laughed softly. “Oh, yeah, Felice was going to paint my nails,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Really?” Simon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Nail polish wasn’t something he expected from Wille, but he couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
Felice chimed in. “Do you also want to get your nails painted, Simon?”
Simon hesitated for a moment, looking between Wille and Felice before nodding with a small smile. “Yeah, I guess… Why not?”
“Awesome!” Felice grinned, grabbing the bottles of polish. “Let me finish Wille’s first, though. So, what colour do you want?” She turned back to Wille, holding up a purple bottle and one with glitter. “How about purple with glitter?”
Wille glanced at Simon. “Just purple is fine,” he said, grinning a little.
Simon smiled back, his heart lighter than it had been all night. Wille looked down, trying to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. In that quiet moment, the weight of the past few days finally seemed to lift, and they both knew—they would be okay for now.