primadonna girl || wilbur soot

Chapter Twenty-Eight

[REAL LIFE]

Unfortunately, today is rainy and cold and cloudy.

Fortunately, Clara is sure that seeing Wilbur will brighten the world. Her world at least.

"We are now approaching Brighton," a monotone voice says over the speakers, and Clara shakes George from his slumber.

He pops his head up fast, from where he had been sleeping on her shoulder, drooling excessively.

"What, what?" He says frantically.

"This is our stop," Clara explains, pushing him out of his seat before he can even get his bearings.

He stumbles for a moment but stays up, grabbing his phone off the table and making his way to the doors.

Wilbur had let them know earlier today that they'd be making a few changes to the video because of the weather. They'd be figuring things out in person, but for now, Wilbur would be picking them up at the train station and they'd take a black cab to the studio they rented to commence filming. Wilbur would be directing the thing, along with Mark playing cam op to help out.

Clara follows George out, checking her phone for any texts. Wilbur is already waiting outside the station for them. Clara brushes off any lint from her baggy black boyfriend jeans.

Clara and George step onto the platform, and the exit isn't too far away. They maneuver through the crowds, though the amount of people is likely meager compared to the usual, as it is currently 2:26 pm on a Monday.

Over the heads of briskly walking people, Clara sees a tall fluffy-haired man donning a black beanie. He is looking down at his phone.

Clara suddenly speeds up, George struggling to follow behind her closely, as they head to the exit. She slips her ticket in and the gates open and she breaks into a sprint, desperate to catch Wilbur off guard.

"Coming in hot!" She shouts at him, making him look up and have the time to shove his phone into his pocket before she barrels into him.

She makes contact with a large oof from Wilbur, practically just throwing herself at the poor lad. Clara doesn't jump too high so Wilbur doesn't teeter. He wraps his arms around her waist tight, hers around his neck, dragging him down to meet her.

"Hi love," he says quietly into her ear, and it makes her giggle with excitement.

When they pull back, they let their arms linger, and this makes Clara realize that this is the perfect position for their lips to touch.

He seems to realize the same thing too because his smile slowly slides into a smirk, his eyes turned down softly. His look flashes to her lips.

Clara leans in before he does before they can overthink, before they can wonder if this is their new normal.

When they kiss, Clara feels sparks in her stomach. As soon as it's happening Clara realizes how much she's missed this, how much she's missed having his lips on hers.

It doesn't last long but oh how she wishes it does. It's a peck, barely considered a kiss at all, lasting just three full seconds. So it's strange how just three seconds can give that burning feeling as if she's just touched a hot grill and her heart is racing.

When they've pulled away, Wilbur ponders how something so outwardly blasé, so casual and easy, could bring tingles to the surface, could make him feel electric.

"Well hellooo, sailor."

Clara turns around to see George, looking at them with a raised brow.

Wilbur steps away from Clara for a moment to greet George.