Chapter Text
Hushed conversations made their ways out of the room, some students still occasionally looked behind them, just in case. Nobody had expected to watch some person manifest and lash out on another right after the Manor.
Ms. Poppet led the students out of the classroom. Everyone followed behind her closely without thinking, willing to do anything to get out of that room. Nobody wanted to end up like Properzia. Nobody wanted to stay with someone that unpredictable.
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His sobs echoed in the now quiet classroom. Adam knew what he was. A creep, hideous, unmanly, all of that. He knew that he shouldn’t be crying right now. Men aren’t supposed to cry. He’s supposed to be out there, doing something with himself. Maybe hanging out with Ambrose. Maybe sitting with Montana, helping her with another scheme.
But no. He was on the cold floor of the classroom crying. With Wilma watching, witnessing his every move.
However, she didn’t mind this at all. She didn’t see Adam as anything less. To her, he was just Adam. Nothing else. Him breaking down completely after manifesting didn’t mean anything to her. She understood. She knew what it was like to feel this way. And she wasn’t going to leave him to deal with this alone.
Adam tried to push her away. He told Wilma — and really anybody who tried to talk to him — to go away, that he was hideous and didn’t want to be seen. He wasn’t saying it just to say it, he truly did believe that he was. And nobody cared enough to try and see more than just surface level. They all filed out of the room the moment they got the chance, leaving Adam alone.
Alone with his thoughts. Alone with the image of Properzia sitting panicked in the corner, her eyes showing way more emotion than he ever thought possible. Ambrose’s words still clung to him, like a stain on your hand you can’t quite wash all the way off. The way he yelled at Morel when he only wanted to help.
God, he was a terrible person. Nobody deserved that. Even if Adam didn’t directly yell at or attack the person, they were never going to trust him again; forever known around the school as “that one crazy guy.”
Adam didn’t even remember much of what happened once they got back from the Manor. Of course, he remembered the merits and demerits, Leo getting to go to Dreamland, and talking to Properzia. But after that, there was nothing. A blank space in his memory. All he knew was that he had manifested and hurt people. Adam never wanted to be that kind of person.
Wilma was different. She didn’t care what everyone else was doing, not this time. She knew what was right and she was going to stand up for that. And what was right was staying with Adam, even if she sat in silence while he cried.
It wasn’t an awkward silence — actually quite comfortable. Even if Adam would rather sink into the floor and die a second time than be seen right now, he was fine with Wilma being here. Well, as fine as he could be.
They never did talk much outside of things done with their entire group or with just them and Montana. But having someone with him, having that sort of ‘safe space’, it helped a lot.
Wilma would occasionally shoot glances towards him. Never for very long, of course, but long enough to make sure he was still there. When she wasn’t staring glancing at Adam, she was messing with the hem of her skirt. Admittedly, sitting there while someone cries is a little awkward. She had to do something to make it a little better.
She had tried to comfort Adam earlier, her hands moving to sit on his shoulder. But the contact only made things worse. He didn’t want to be seen, touched, hell, not even acknowledged. So Wilma respected that, sitting quietly beside him for however long it took.
In between sobs she would hear Adam say some self-degrading thing. She wanted so desperately to reach over and tell him he’s perfect the way he is. She wanted to hug him, to hold him while he cried. But she couldn’t. Not right now.
She would see people walking past the classroom every so often. Interested, but not enough to walk in and ask the questions they have. They probably wouldn’t even talk to Adam for some time. Staring at him, of course But not talking. Nobody ever talks to the person after something like this.
But the tears had to stop coming eventually. Adam had to get up. He had to face reality soon enough. Even if he didn’t want to know what came next.
Once he had calmed down enough to breathe properly and accept being seen, he looked up. He couldn’t pretend he was presentable, he knew he wasn’t. His hair was a mess, his face was red and splotchy, and his sleeves were damp with tears. It was embarrassing — especially for the put-together persona Adam usually wore with pride. He waited anxiously for the eventual “ew” to come from Wilma. He waited for her to finally get up and leave him like he had for this entire time. Just like everybody else had.
But she didn’t. What finally broke the silence was the last thing Adam had expected.
“Do you wanna come to my dorm?”
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The walk down the dorm hallway and the first few initial moments in Wilma’s dorm felt unreal. Some people peeked out their doors to watch the two. Nobody would admit it, but they wanted to know what had happened in that classroom. Wilma and Adam alike knew that there would be rumors — Ones about how they fought, how they kissed, how Adam was lying about everything. But right now, none of that mattered.
Adam needed to get better.
Wilma sat next to him on the unoccupied bed in her dorm. She gave Adam his space, sitting on the opposite end. The silence filled the air surrounding the two like a weighted blanket; Comforting to Wilma, but weighing down Adam.
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be havin’ to deal with this. Hell, you shouldn’t even have to look at me. I’m hideous right now.” Adam finally spoke after a few minutes, his words quiet.
He chuckled at the end, wiping again at his face. But Wilma didn’t think this was something to laugh over. Nobody should have to sit here and deny help and comfort over appearance like this. Especially not Adam.
“Who said you were hideous?” Wilma wasn’t going to budge until she got an answer. She wasn’t going to let this guy believe he was something that needed to be hidden from the world. Not anymore.
“Aha.. Well. I-It’s nuthin’, really! Not too serious.” Adam tried to play off the issue as nothing. He had dealt with it for this long, right? But something about being watched so carefully by the girl next to him made him think twice. He stared down at the ground, hands gripping tightly onto his pants.
The silence stretched on for what seemed like ages, but in reality was nothing more than a few beats. Adam became painfully aware of the knot forming in his throat and the tears pricking the corners of his eyes once again.
“Who said that to you, Adam?” The voice was quiet, even for such an empty room. Something about the way she said it made Adam look up from his shoes. His face was still red and his eyes were still puffy, but he looked up nonetheless.
Quietly, Wilma took his hand. Not in a rough way — in a way that showed that she wasn’t going anywhere. That she was going to be here no matter what. Adam squeezed her hand, like if he wasn’t holding on, he would drift away.
“Mmn.” He didn’t say much else. He didn’t need to, nor did he want to. If he said anything, he would have to admit that really nobody in particular told him that he was hideous. Adam had been saying it to himself every night. Each time he said it was filled with more and more hatred. And now that somebody actually cared enough to talk to him about it, he felt exposed. Like Wilma could see right through his skin and into his every thought and feeling.
“I think you’re beautiful.”