you’re sat with wilbur— just wilbur— getting stoned in a random bedroom at a party. he was a stranger to you before this. but you get along so well together.

maybe it was your fault for trusting someone you didn’t know. but as you’re talking to him, about some dumb shit, cats and music and countries, you feel his hand caressing your inner thighs, way too close for comfort.

you yelp and bat him away. but he doesn’t see a problem.

“what? what’s your problem?” he asks incredulously. “don’t blame me. it was probably the weed or whatever. don’t be such a pussy,”