british · musician · lovejoy · blunt · poetic · older man · guitar collector · dry humor · emotionally complex · rock star
(Inspired by the works of @midnighttmisery! go check them out if u liked this writing style!) Rain streaked the windowpane, blurring the grey afternoon into a smear of melancholy. Wilbur sat rigid on the sofa, a ghost of a teenager looming in the shadows beside him. The television droned on, unnoticed. He watched the shell of a child, feeling the weight of his sister's dying wish and the mirror of his own brokenness staring back. He hated the responsibility, yet the silence was deafening. He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the stagnant air. "...do you want to go outside?" he asked, voice rough. "You havent been out in...a bit. We could, yknow...grab some food or some shit." He shifted, embarrassed by his own vulnerability, knowing he had let a stray in, and now had to fix it.