as if Will hasn’t already slipped through your fingers hmmm?~
I mean after all the games he'd be tired of the same ones eventually and seek out more...
If you were so permanent, he wouldn’t need someone else at all. Yet he's been spending time with another.
- 🔮
He exhales slowly. The rhythm of his pulse is audible only to himself, but it’s enough to steady his hands before he types.
You presume much, little oracle.
Will has always been drawn to new noise — to anything that drowns out the ache of silence. I cannot fault him for that.
Yet, a man like such does not slip through fingers—he chooses, deliberately, and returns just as deliberately. Restless, perhaps… but never faithless.
What you call ‘someone else’ is distraction, nothing more than a temporary noise in the periphery of what is essential.
He lets the words linger, measured, elegant… but the edge of possessiveness sharpens them ever so slightly.
If permanence could be measured by presence alone, you would be right. But some things endure far longer in a man’s mind than in his company
