Veronica Mars: Weevil/Veronica (Table 23, 2. Trust)
Title: Two Weeks
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Character/Pairing/Group: Weevil/Veronica
Rating: PG-13
Warning/s: Uhm minor character death, angst.
Summary: Weevil hasn't seen her in two weeks, and thinks it's about time he did.
Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars, the show and characters belong to Rob Thomas.
My table is here
Weevil hasn't seen her in two weeks, and it's hard to believe how much he missed her. He misses the warm curves of her body, held in his capable hands and her complete silence although the sharp inhale when she is in his arms speaks volumes.
It takes him a long time before he gets the nerve to go and see her, standing outside the door of her apartment for a while until he finally gets the nerve to knock.
Veronica answers, and he is immediately taken aback. "Hey V," he says softly, trying to figure out if there is anything he can say.
He has seen her survive so much more, Lilly's death, Aaron being the killer, rape.
Weevil knew it all, knew everything she had been through because she had been willing to tell him, she had trusted him not to freak out or worry too much because he understood that she was the survivor.
She looked like she was barely surviving, her blond hair hung limp, her eyes filled with desperation and her clothes which had fit her perfectly two weeks before were practically hanging off her.
"Hi Weevil," her voice is soft, cracking in the middle of his name as though she hasn't spoken in a long time. "Thank you for the flowers, and for coming to the funeral. I saw you there," she had been comforted immediately by the sight of him but had been so confused as to why he hadn't approached her.
Maybe he just didn't know what to say.
"I just came by to check on you," Weevil rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. "I was wondering if..."
"If there's anything you can do?" She laughs and its bitter, harsh, grating on his nerves and increasing his worry tenfold. "My mother drank herself to death in a dirty hotel room," her voice cracks again and there's the stunning realization for him that she probably hasn't cried yet.
Weevil steps forward, slipping an arm around her shoulders he closes the door behind him and kisses the top of her head. "It was not your fault. Your mother was a sad person, and sometimes there's nothing else for them. Nothing else matters, I'm sorry Veronica but it's the truth."
Veronica trembles in his arms until he's forced to walk her to the couch and sits down gathering her into his lap as the dam seems to break and she sobs. Part of him is slightly warmed by the fact that she trusts him enough to do this, to break apart in his arms while another part of him is worried she will make herself sick.
"I'm sorry V, really sorry," he kisses her temple gently.
It is about twenty minutes before she calms down enough to pull away. "Weevil....Eli..." her voice is shaking and she hates herself for it but knows he would never think any less of her for crying.
She doesn't know what overcomes her or why it happens but next thing she knows her lips are on his, sliding slickly along his plump bottom lip.
Weevil's hands slip down her sides holding her hips he barely manages to pull himself away, "I love that you trust me. But I won't do this right now V, it's not what you need."
Veronica looks up at him, her eyes wide and swimming. "Okay," she slipped off his lap and made her way into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Dropping his head into his hands Weevil groaned, feeling like he was losing his mind and she was the one twisting him up in knots. He knew what she expected of him, and he wasn't going to do it.
No matter what Veronica wanted he wouldn't leave her, even if he walked out of the apartment she still wouldn't be able to shake him, not when she needed him. If she called he would come running, and it didn't matter to him what anyone thought.
Weevil loved her.
She would just have to deal with that.
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Character/Pairing/Group: Weevil/Veronica
Rating: PG-13
Warning/s: Uhm minor character death, angst.
Summary: Weevil hasn't seen her in two weeks, and thinks it's about time he did.
Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars, the show and characters belong to Rob Thomas.
My table is here
Weevil hasn't seen her in two weeks, and it's hard to believe how much he missed her. He misses the warm curves of her body, held in his capable hands and her complete silence although the sharp inhale when she is in his arms speaks volumes.
It takes him a long time before he gets the nerve to go and see her, standing outside the door of her apartment for a while until he finally gets the nerve to knock.
Veronica answers, and he is immediately taken aback. "Hey V," he says softly, trying to figure out if there is anything he can say.
He has seen her survive so much more, Lilly's death, Aaron being the killer, rape.
Weevil knew it all, knew everything she had been through because she had been willing to tell him, she had trusted him not to freak out or worry too much because he understood that she was the survivor.
She looked like she was barely surviving, her blond hair hung limp, her eyes filled with desperation and her clothes which had fit her perfectly two weeks before were practically hanging off her.
"Hi Weevil," her voice is soft, cracking in the middle of his name as though she hasn't spoken in a long time. "Thank you for the flowers, and for coming to the funeral. I saw you there," she had been comforted immediately by the sight of him but had been so confused as to why he hadn't approached her.
Maybe he just didn't know what to say.
"I just came by to check on you," Weevil rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. "I was wondering if..."
"If there's anything you can do?" She laughs and its bitter, harsh, grating on his nerves and increasing his worry tenfold. "My mother drank herself to death in a dirty hotel room," her voice cracks again and there's the stunning realization for him that she probably hasn't cried yet.
Weevil steps forward, slipping an arm around her shoulders he closes the door behind him and kisses the top of her head. "It was not your fault. Your mother was a sad person, and sometimes there's nothing else for them. Nothing else matters, I'm sorry Veronica but it's the truth."
Veronica trembles in his arms until he's forced to walk her to the couch and sits down gathering her into his lap as the dam seems to break and she sobs. Part of him is slightly warmed by the fact that she trusts him enough to do this, to break apart in his arms while another part of him is worried she will make herself sick.
"I'm sorry V, really sorry," he kisses her temple gently.
It is about twenty minutes before she calms down enough to pull away. "Weevil....Eli..." her voice is shaking and she hates herself for it but knows he would never think any less of her for crying.
She doesn't know what overcomes her or why it happens but next thing she knows her lips are on his, sliding slickly along his plump bottom lip.
Weevil's hands slip down her sides holding her hips he barely manages to pull himself away, "I love that you trust me. But I won't do this right now V, it's not what you need."
Veronica looks up at him, her eyes wide and swimming. "Okay," she slipped off his lap and made her way into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Dropping his head into his hands Weevil groaned, feeling like he was losing his mind and she was the one twisting him up in knots. He knew what she expected of him, and he wasn't going to do it.
No matter what Veronica wanted he wouldn't leave her, even if he walked out of the apartment she still wouldn't be able to shake him, not when she needed him. If she called he would come running, and it didn't matter to him what anyone thought.
Weevil loved her.
She would just have to deal with that.