After all the hullabaloo that Wilford made over getting an explanation for the green-haired pixie that Dark was keeping secret, Wilford doesn't hear a single word that comes out of the grey ego's mouth. His eyes catch sight of the cane Dark's using and his mind is thrown back to a time he doesn't think about. A time with friends and fun, just a little madness, with Celine and life and…. Such a long time ago.
Dark's words just wash over him as he thinks of his friend, of Damien, heartfelt and true, of how the last time they spoke, Damien was angry with him. Like Damien knew what he'd done.
Underneath the table, Wilford's fingers shake with the strain of him trying to fight off the memories, the guilt, the pain of all that happened. Of the blood that stains his hands. His lips draw back into a hollow toothy grin, his eyes distant as he stares at the table.
Except it's all a joke. He's never hurt anyone, he's never killed a soul. Death means nothing! Don't they get that?! Didn't any of them understand?!
"Will?"
Jolting, Wilford leaps to his feet, reaching for his gun and letting off three shots before his thoughts even get into motion, never processing who's stood in front of him.
Everything snaps, the memories gone, the meeting room empty save for him and Dark who's clasping at this side but staring resolutely at Wilford with a slight glare.
Blushing slightly, Wilford chuckles as his gun disappears back into his void. "Sorry. Must have drifted off. Has everyone gone?"
Dark speaks through gritted teeth as he sits down again, still clutching his side. "Someone else will fill in the blanks for you Wilford. Now please leave."
The pink man wiggles his moustache with a smile as he turns to leave. Such a shame he missed the juicy gossip. Oh well, no doubt Bim will fill him in on the pixie man.