Dorm Room 210 [Private RP // Closed — Stalkers welcome!]

[TIME SKIP: January 3rd, 2019]

William stared at the score board with a look of disbelief in his eyes. 87-34. A fifty-three point difference. They were crushed. His breathing was harsh and heavy, his teammates in the same condition, if not a little better. Their reason was disappointment. His was anger. Anger at himself for not being able to steal the ball. Anger at himself for being unable to score. Frustrated at himself for being so goddamn incompetent.

William finally pickef himself off of the ground and clasped hands with their opponents before he walked away from the group, needing to be alone before he blew up and lost himself to the anger pushing to be released.

”Damn it!” William hissed, punching the wall as if the pain could take away the fury coursing through him. He’d failed his team. They were relying on him he had let them down. They had practiced and practiced, but it was still not enough. The late night secret training was not enough. They were so close and because he was not talented enough, their victory was snatched from them.

It burned him to the core.

But he felt a presence behind him, a very familiar presence. He didn’t want to see her—he didn’t want her to see him like this.

”Fantastic,” William snarled, keeping his back to her. “I let them down. I was meant to take them to victory and I let them down. I failed them. Drew, Parker, Holden—I failed them all.”

William punched the wall again, gritting his teeth. He tried taking deep breaths, but even that didn’t help.

“It was the final match,” he spat out the last words. “We were so close.”

She didn’t step closer. Smart girl. She was clever. William wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have hurt her if she had come close.

“Leave,” he breathed out. “I want to be alone. Leave.”

No.

“Yes,” he answered, clenching his hands into fists despite them aching. “Leave.”

Stay.

William released a shaky breath, hearing Amber’s footsteps getting quieter as she walked away. He screwed up. Twice. First the match, now Amber.

He let himself lean against the wall, sliding down. He stayed there for a few minutes before he picked himself up, deciding to release his anger by practicing more.

When he returned later that night, with full intentions of apologizing, Amber was not home.

William set himself on the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes. Where was she? Why wasn’t she coming back? He gripped his hair tightly—would she ever come back, or had he lost her because of his explosive anger?

Come back.

His phone. Where was his bloody phone? William barely slept the night, worried about Amber, worried that she might never come back to him. He finally remembered he could call her. Ask her to come back. Unfortunately, his phone wasn’t on him.

With a deep groan, he realized it was in his jacket. His jacket was with his girlfriend.

William slumped on the couch, leaning forward, massaging his temple. He let out another deep breath. What was he even doing?

“Come home, you idiot,” William muttered, eyes closing, still waiting.

Hearing her voice, William immediately looked up and pulled himself to his feet. He closed the distance between them, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him, slamming his lips on hers, kissing her fiercely.

“Did you—have to leave—the entire night?” He growled between kisses, wanting to trap her between the wall and himself and kiss her till she could no longer stand.

“No,” William’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not. I’m not calm, Blue. I thought you’d left. I thought you wouldn’t come back. You told me nothing before you left—not even a note! Do you know how worried I was when I got home and you weren’t there?”

William silenced her with a kiss, pulling her closer, tilting his head to get a better access to her mouth.

“No, I’m sorry,” he breathed out. “You have nothing to apologize for. Just don’t run off like that, do you understand?”

William grinned wickedly, leaning down to gently bite down on her throat. “And what was it that I was doing, Blue? Do enlighten me.”

William kissed the spot he bit, the warm skin pulsing under his touch. “Punishing you,” he murmured, hands on her hips. “For leaving like that. For not going straight home. Why, do you want me to stop?”