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Wilhelm watches the pendulum in the old grandfather’s clock swing from side to side from the corner of his eye. His headphones are slung around his shoulders, blaring songs that used to be his favourite but can hardly remember the words to anymore.
It’s been like this every night for a week - he shuts himself inside his room, refusing to see anyone and thinking what could’ve been if he hadn’t been such a fucking coward. He feels like he shouldn’t, doesn’t deserve to, but he misses Simon so badly his heart hurts. He didn’t realise Christmas break would leave him so much room to think.
He rolls over to his side and stretches his pale hand out in front of him. He flexes it once, twice. Tries to pretend like if he reaches just a bit more, his fingers will wrap around Simon’s shoulder, who will turn around and grin beautifully like nothing ever happened.
When his hands close around air instead, he lets his arm drop to the mattress and squeezes his eyes shut as the tinny voice from his headphones sinks into the silence of the dark room.
_____
There’s a girl at the palace.
Her name is Vera; she’s a redhead, a year older; the daughter of some well-off, apparently important aristocratic family who have always been well-acquainted with the royal family.
And Wilhelm- alright, he thinks she’s cute. His mother certainly thinks the same, judging by the way she looks up at his reaction with hopeful, tentative eyes when she introduces herself.
Wilhelm knows what she’s playing at. He knew what she was playing at when she invited Vera over for a ‘play-date’, saying he needed to make some new friends of his level.
‘Too late, Mum,’ he wants to say, ‘My disastrous heart’s only got room for one and that spot is already taken.’
Instead, he says nothing and nods politely as Vera looks up at him with wide, shining eyes, her pinky raised delicately as she sips at her tea. No doubt his parents would be elated if he decided to court and marry her one day. The whole nation would be delighted. He can already picture the headlines: ‘PRINCE TO WED VERA ANDERSSON, CRIMSON SWEETHEART.’ His tea leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
He sees his mother quirk her eyebrow at Vera effortlessly, completely naturally, the way chronically guilty people do when they are plotting something and trying to hide it. Vera’s eyes widen impossibly larger and she gets up suddenly.
She fans herself. “I apologise for the interruption, your highnesses. I’m feeling a bit faint- I might have to step out and get some air,” she says in one breath.
Without even looking at his mother, Wilhelm knows exactly what he is expected to do. “I’ll accompany you outside, Miss Andersson,” he says, and gets out of his chair.
Vera’s face colours to a shade that could rival her hair. “I-I’d be honoured, Prince Wilhelm.”
Behind him, he can sense the queen’s mood brighten as they walk out to the gardens, side by side. He supposes he’s glad someone’s happy, although the pit in his stomach says otherwise.
They walk for what seems like hours, but is probably just a few minutes, until they reach the greenhouse. He can sense Vera brimming with excitement, glancing up at his face every few minutes, no doubt looking for a way to secure the crown for herself. At this, Wilhelm bites his lip and chides himself for thinking this way.
“Your gardens are lovely,” she says. Wilhelm hums.
“Your… flowers are beautiful,” she tries. Wilhelm hums again.
She gulps nervously. “Can we visit the greenhouse? It looks lovely.” Wilhelm nods and steers them to the entrance.
They’re in there for another half an hour, as he tries to answer Vera’s questions on gardening and they both try to pretend like his answers make the slightest bit of sense. As the minutes tick by, he can sense her disappointment swell and her interest wane at his curt replies and frankly, quite obviously made-up replies to her questions about gardening. For the first time, he thinks of the disappointed look on his mother’s face when she realises Wilhelm didn’t even try to make an effort to spark a connection with Vera and the slightest bit of panic sets in.
When Vera turns to him and opens her mouth, Wilhelm is sure he knows what she’s going to say, what’s going to happen. That they should head back in, that she’s feeling much better. Then she’ll head home and complain to her mother of how soulless the prince was, how she was sure she’d find better company with another branch of the royal family instead. Then his mother would look at him with that look again- that unbearable look which seemed to reappear more and more frequently these days- and he’d ache for Erik to be home again.
So when Vera begins to speak, Wilhelm grabs her chin, forcing her to look up at him and kisses her harshly. She squeaks in surprise and pulls him closer, kissing him back with equal fervour.
He tries not to think of another pair of lips as he’s kissing Vera, of the stark difference in the way they felt, the way they tasted. The difference in the way they made Wilhelm feel. As he tangles his fingers in her long, red hair, he tries not to think of soft, curly locks and as he pulls her small frame closer, he pushes the thought of warm brown eyes away.
_____
On the ninth night after the breakup, two nights after Vera, Wilhelm watches as his fingers fly over his keyboard, typing Simon’s username into the search bar on instagram. He has a hard time believing he managed to go this long without doing this before, but he attributes it to the harsh twinge of pain he feels every time he even thinks of Simon.
It feels like he’s watching it all happen out of his body, because he refuses to believe he’s stupid enough to actively stalk Simon’s profile. It was the first rule of every relationship, as Erik had taught him. Never go through their social media after a split. Especially if you’re not over them.
Two strikes, three and you’re out. He bets Erik is frowning down at him as he taps on his account and begans to scroll.
The latest post is a selfie, taken in a ridiculous reindeer sweater that makes Wilhelm smile and ache from longing. His heart stutters as he takes in Simon’s face after nine days of not seeing it, takes in every inch he had memorized like the back of his hand by now. He scrolls to the next post and immediately, the smile on his face freezes.
There’s a boy.
One he hasn’t seen around before. He’s got floppy brown hair and a lazy, wide grin. He’s got his arm snaked around Simon’s waist, and they certainly look very… friendly. There’s a coldness and a sense of dread that settles in the bottom of Wilhelm’s stomach, as he sits up, suddenly very alert. There is no caption on the post and he wracks his head trying to decide what that means.
He tries to calm the slow feeling of despair that pools his heart. They could just be friends. Right, of course. With slow fingers, he scrolls through the comments until he finds a username he isn’t familiar with.
@oscareklu_nd22 ❤️
A heart. Wilhelm feels like the room is spinning as he desperately clicks on Oscar’s profile, hoping it isn’t what he thinks it is.
A single rainbow flag on his bio seems to answer for him, and he lets his phone drop to his side, not bothering to torture himself even more by looking through Oscar’s profile, trying to determine what he is to Simon. It seems pretty clear to him, anyway.
He tries to convince himself that he is happy for Simon, that he deserves to be with someone who isn’t afraid to be themselves. Someone who doesn’t make Simon feel like he’s a little secret to be ashamed of.
He curls into a ball and tries to stop feeling.
_____
[CROWN PRINCE SEEN DALLYING WITH VERA ANDERSSON, DAUGHTER OF LARS ANDERSSON
Young Prince Wilhelm has a new girlfriend! The 17 year old royal has reportedly entered a committed relationship with Vera Andersson, daughter of Lars Andersson, CEO of Andersson Industries. “They’re very into each other and get along well,” an inside source confirmed. “Wilhelm is enamoured by her and the Queen wholeheartedly approves.” Could Vera and Wilhelm be the next King and Queen of Sweden? We wish the happy couple the very best!]
Ever since the article was published, his mother has been in considerably lighter spirits. He has no doubt in his head that she had a hand in the “inside sources” the article mentioned. He purses his lips and tries to not feel too bitter as he realises the stark difference in her reaction to the very real video and the very falsified article.
Wilhelm’s phone pings with congratulations and questions from his classmates, from childhood friends he hasn’t spoken to in many months, from his grandparents, cousins, and even his riding instructor from the fourth grade. There’s just one person missing.
He has been glued to his phone, waiting for the chance to reply back in case Simon decides to throw a text his way and ask if the article holds any truth to it. Wilhelm has already composed a message in his head; ‘Not at all. Vera means nothing, the article means nothing, the only thing in my life right now that holds any meaning is-’
His phone buzzes.
He lunges for it, and then stops himself at the last second from turning it around and seeing who texted him. He tells himself: he has no right to expect anything from Simon, not when he’s fucked it all up so bad, not when Simon probably has a new perfect boyfriend named Oscar who’s not afraid to show him off to the world. Wilhelm tells himself they’ve both moved on, that he doesn’t care what Simon thinks. He wants to believe they’ve both moved on and he’s not the only one left hanging.
Despite what he tells himself, his heart thuds traitorously as he turns his phone over in his hand and clicks on the home button once. The screen lights up and he squints at the notification on his home page.
Sara.
His heart plummets in disappointment one second, and in the next, he frowns down at his phone, wondering what she could possibly need.
He taps the notification.
sararud2: is it true?
His head buzzes. He types back;
user_2468: is what true?
sararud2: are you dating vera andersson?
user_2468: why do you want to know?
sararud2: simon’s acting weird about it
Wilhelm puts the phone down and focuses on one corner of his bedpost. Simon’s acting weird? Why would he act weird? He tries to dampen the treacherous feeling of hope that threatens to crawl up his throat. His phone buzzes again.
sararud2: are you going to tell me?
sararud2: you’ve made simon sad
sararud2: tell me if it’s true or not
Wilhelm swallows.
user_2468: its not true
user_2468: what about him? Is he dating
sararud2: ?
user_2468: is he dating os car
His phone stays in silent and Wilhelm swears silently. He rubs his hand into his hair aggressively and shakes his head, regretting the text already. Who asks their ex’s sister if they’re dating someone else after breaking up? His phone buzzes in his hand, almost mockingly.
Wilhelm closes his eyes tightly. He’s not sure if he wants to know. It seems pretty clear to him that Oscar and Simon are... something, but speculation is one thing and confirmation is something else entirely.
Bracingly, he turns his phone over.
sararud2: no
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and all the weight seems to drain out of him as he sags in relief. No. So Simon wasn’t dating floppy haired Oscar just yet. Almost immediately, he feels guilty for feeling relieved. Simon deserves to be happy, even if it isn’t with him.
He exits instagram and enters the phone app, scrolls until he reaches the names starting with ‘S’. He finds Simon and taps on his name.
His finger hovers over the call button for what seems like ages, before it moves away and places his phone face-down on his side-table by his bed. He would call Simon, but not before he has sorted out his problems on his own. Simon didn’t ask to be roped into something as complicated and messed up as his life.
Maybe it would take weeks, months, or even years, but until then, Simon deserved to be with other, normal people. It hurts to think of him with someone else, but Wilhelm doesn’t want to hold him back from happiness. Until Wilhelm figures himself out, decides what he wants to do, he won’t call Simon. He would call Simon one day, but not today.