I watched as Wesley frowned, and I sighed slightly. Then, leaning forward, I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"Okay, you don't know... I guess you're not cold," I said slowly, looking at Wes and where he had shoved the blankets. "Are you good with water?" I glanced back over at the glass, and glanced back at Wes, questioning.
"Wes?" I asked, as his eyes slipped back closed, and I sighed. Maybe he just needed sleep, and I was bothering him, keeping him awake like this. "I... do you want me to let you sleep?" I began to move toward the edge of the bed, more than aware that I was probably freaking him out. After all, it wasn't every day that one was paralyzed, trapped in a bed with one's reclusive boss while said boss makes a stuttering idiot of himself with his awkwardness...
A small smile played on my face again when he observed that I wasn't called. As Cordelia would say 'no shit sherlock'. I was almost tempted to ask how he got that idea. But I couldn't get the words out for one. But more importantly, I didn't want to make him any more comfortable.
"Enough water...for now," I said instead. I'd signal him when I needed more. That much was certain. With this heat coursing through my body I was getting dehydrated fast. I gritted my teeth when that sharp pain shot up my leg again and heard a small groan escape my lips. Dammit, now I can't even control that anymore.
"Not...tired," I told Angel once I gathered enough energy to talk. The pain was making its way down now. I wanted to yell at him to make the pain go away. And to make my body move again. And to make certain my lungs wouldn't suddenly stop. But I couldn't. He was feeling guilty enough as it was. Bloody vampire. "Just...sit here?"
I paused as I heard Wesley's request, and turned to look at him. I had fully expected him to tell me to back off, to leave him alone or something. After all, normally this would have been considered hovering, and my friends generally didn't take me hovering very well. Whenever I tried to be helpful or caring, beyond the normal demon-hunting thing, Cordy assumed I was evil again, and the others tended to tell me to go away
( ... )
He seemed confused when I asked him to stay. Probably because we usually wanted him to stop hovering and go away. Or Cordelia would give him a speech and then start about his hairgel or his blood or something rather
( ... )
I blinked, then grinned at Wes, a genuine smile. I knew I did that rarely, especially lately.
"Well, I can make some tea if you want," I said, perfectly serious. Maybe he did want tea... after all, when I had been following Darla, hadn't he wanted to have tea and a talk? Maybe that was the way things worked back in England, whenever a male friend had problems. Wes and I had had tea before, but not... talks.
My smile faded, and I regarded Wes seriously. If he wanted tea, I could try, but the way his face was after Cordy tried to make him tea before... I couldn't really guarantee anything.
"Well, tea'd be a good thing, I mean later, if you want. I just didn't think that as soon as I came out of my room, I would be back here so soon." I offered a small smile, then said, "At least this time I have someone to talk to, other than myself..." I trailed off again, feeling the awkwardness in my words heavily. I didn't know if Wes even felt it, but I did.
He smile. Not that awkward lopsided grin he usually sports. But he really smiled. *Angel* smiled And of course I'm not in a position to actually appreciate it. All I can do is gape at him. And I doubt even that is clearly to see, considering I have trouble getting my mouth to work. Doesn't seem to stop me from uttering utter bollix most of the time.
I blink at him as his smile fades, wonder what brought that on. Ah. I close my eyes and smile a small smile. He thought I really wanted tea. Though that would probably be good at any time, I had been joking when I said that of course. "Angel..." I wait for him to stop rambling and look at me again. "Was...joke...tea." Good lord, I sound like some cave man who just learned English.
Sighing, I try to bring my hand up to rub my forehead. Of course my hand's not moving, nor my arm. Can't even really wrinkle my nose. This is so frustrating! And Angel is getting more awkward with the minute. This locking himself up in his room really did give him a setback didn't it? "Can have...tea later," I
( ... )
"Later is good," I told him absently, then frowned. He was pulling the blankets back up over himself... was he cold? I could still feel the heat radiating off of his skin, so I didn't think that he was cold...
"Are you cold, Wes?" I asked, concerned. If he was cold, but was still burning up this much, I wasn't sure what to do next. After all, if he was cold, generally I should help him with the blankets, but if he was still hot, then cold... then we might have problems, coming back to the part where maybe I should take him to the hospital, and come up with something.
I reached over, taking the edge of the sheet in my hand, trying to help him as I waited for an answer. I watched as he squirmed, and debated pulling my hand away for a split second, wondering if I was too close for comfort right then. After all, I wasn't sure if I was hovering or not.
No, I wasn't cold. And if I'd had the energy, I'd have raised an eyebrow at him. Not, mind you, that it didn't try to do that automatically. The muscles just weren't working. It was amazing to find out just how many muscled the human body has. Far to many, I figured, now that I couldn't move them
( ... )
I looked at Wesley, confused for a moment. Embarrassed? I could understand why, but... if he wanted me to just leave him alone in his situation, that wasn't going to happen. If he could barely move, and hardly talk, what would happen if he stopped breathing, or needed something? It wasn't like he could call for help
( ... )
The part where I was embarrassed flew right over Angel's head. I could tell just from the look in his eyes. Well, not everyone had centuries of practice when it came to laying around naked in other peoples beds and the likes. Though, I doubt Angel actually knew what it was like to not be able to move. And be afraid your lungs would stop too. Or your heart or that matter. Best not think about that
( ... )
My eyes widened, then I looked at Wesley, confused. He wanted me to read to him? Was that what he meant? That was kind of an odd request from him- after all, I didn't really read out loud
( ... )
Letting out a rather large sigh, I stared up at him a little bit annoyed. Who the hell *cares* whom he reads to. Doesn't he understand anything I say? Isn't it obvious that the darkness around us make me feel uncomfortable? Not to mention the silence? No, of course he doesn't. He was doing so very well before Buffy died. Now? He's as I've never seen him before.
Awkward, insecure, sky, confused. Hell, he could be me if it weren't for the lack of a pulse.
Good lord, no wonder people were so annoyed with me.
"Angel," I sighed, watching him putter around the room hesitantly. "Never...mind. I'll just..." Lay here, panic or be bored out of my wits. "...try to...get some sleep." Which I've been trying since god knows when. It just doesn't seem to be working. But I can pretend.
At least then Angel is free to do whatever he likes and I can wait for this to be over and hope he's not around when I can finally get out of his bed. Naked. And then tip toe into the bathroom and put on the clothes he's borrowed me.
I sat down in a chair, and brushed my fingers over the cover of the book for a moment. I glanced up as Wesley sighed, and flinched slightly. I was irritating and frustrating him... I seemed to be doing pretty well at that
( ... )
Yes, I suppose I do look tired. That wasn't the problem. Well, it was part of the problem. The large problem was that I couldn't seem to sleep. No matter how tired I was...am. I am tired, very tired. Exhausted really. Rather odd if one considers I can't move around much. I guess that's tiring on it's own.
And watching Angel flounder around it tiring as well. I want to reassure him that I'm fine, that everything will be okay. Take away that awkwardness. But I can't, and I've no idea how to do that anyway. It's not at though we both know how to really talk. When it comes to that I guess we can compete for the title of 'most stoic one'. I just don't want him to sit here and brood.
"Yes," I sigh, managing a tiny nod. Look at that, progress. Good lord, now I'm being sarcastic to myself again. Bugger it all. "Am tired." Now all I need is to actually sleep. My eyes close on their own again and I try to regulate my breathing, try to fall asleep. It's not really working. Frustrating again. I wonder if Angel would notice I'm faking being
"Okay... try and get some rest, then." I said quietly. Then I sat back in my chair, quietly reading my poetry as I watched over Wes. He was trying so hard to pretend to sleep, to control his breathing so I'd think he was asleep... and I let him. Hopefully, sooner or later, he could actually fall asleep, but for now, I just went along with Wesley, allowing him his pretense.
I knew that I probably had made this whole thing worse by hovering over him. He was trying to give himself, as well as me, a way out of the awkwardness... I sighed slightly, then turned my attention to the book of poems.
As we sat there in silence, I glanced at the clock after a while, wondering how much time had passed. My eyes widened as I realized an hour had already passed... which meant two had passed since this whole thing had started. Only anothe couple to go... I listened to Wesley's breathing again, trying to figure out if he was still awake or not... either way, he was still breathing, which was reassuring enough in its own right.
I cannot help but wonder. Is he pretending like I am? Or has he told himself I'm actually tired and half asleep? I'm thinking the first. He can hear my breathing and my heart rate can't he? Why am I even asking myself that. I know he can, I'm a bloody watcher, I *know* these things.
Keeping my eyes closed wasn't the problem. Falling asleep was. Everytime I thought I was about to come close to dozing of, a sharp pain shot up my leg. It did seem to get less and less, but maybe that was because I was getting used to it. Expecting it. Much like I had with the gunshot wound. After a while I'd gotten used to the pain.
Still, no sleeping. And when one is not sleeping, one's brain is still working. And for some particular reason, mine keeps on working. Sighing, I pried one eye open and squinted toward the clock. Great, I can't really see it without my glasses. Good lord, this is so useless. Now I really wish I was home, so I could be miserable alone, *alone*. "Angel," I sighed at last. "Don't you have...things to do?"
"Okay, you don't know... I guess you're not cold," I said slowly, looking at Wes and where he had shoved the blankets. "Are you good with water?" I glanced back over at the glass, and glanced back at Wes, questioning.
"Wes?" I asked, as his eyes slipped back closed, and I sighed. Maybe he just needed sleep, and I was bothering him, keeping him awake like this. "I... do you want me to let you sleep?" I began to move toward the edge of the bed, more than aware that I was probably freaking him out. After all, it wasn't every day that one was paralyzed, trapped in a bed with one's reclusive boss while said boss makes a stuttering idiot of himself with his awkwardness...
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"Enough water...for now," I said instead. I'd signal him when I needed more. That much was certain. With this heat coursing through my body I was getting dehydrated fast. I gritted my teeth when that sharp pain shot up my leg again and heard a small groan escape my lips. Dammit, now I can't even control that anymore.
"Not...tired," I told Angel once I gathered enough energy to talk. The pain was making its way down now. I wanted to yell at him to make the pain go away. And to make my body move again. And to make certain my lungs wouldn't suddenly stop. But I couldn't. He was feeling guilty enough as it was. Bloody vampire. "Just...sit here?"
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"Well, I can make some tea if you want," I said, perfectly serious. Maybe he did want tea... after all, when I had been following Darla, hadn't he wanted to have tea and a talk? Maybe that was the way things worked back in England, whenever a male friend had problems. Wes and I had had tea before, but not... talks.
My smile faded, and I regarded Wes seriously. If he wanted tea, I could try, but the way his face was after Cordy tried to make him tea before... I couldn't really guarantee anything.
"Well, tea'd be a good thing, I mean later, if you want. I just didn't think that as soon as I came out of my room, I would be back here so soon." I offered a small smile, then said, "At least this time I have someone to talk to, other than myself..." I trailed off again, feeling the awkwardness in my words heavily. I didn't know if Wes even felt it, but I did.
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I blink at him as his smile fades, wonder what brought that on. Ah. I close my eyes and smile a small smile. He thought I really wanted tea. Though that would probably be good at any time, I had been joking when I said that of course. "Angel..." I wait for him to stop rambling and look at me again. "Was...joke...tea." Good lord, I sound like some cave man who just learned English.
Sighing, I try to bring my hand up to rub my forehead. Of course my hand's not moving, nor my arm. Can't even really wrinkle my nose. This is so frustrating! And Angel is getting more awkward with the minute. This locking himself up in his room really did give him a setback didn't it? "Can have...tea later," I ( ... )
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"Are you cold, Wes?" I asked, concerned. If he was cold, but was still burning up this much, I wasn't sure what to do next. After all, if he was cold, generally I should help him with the blankets, but if he was still hot, then cold... then we might have problems, coming back to the part where maybe I should take him to the hospital, and come up with something.
I reached over, taking the edge of the sheet in my hand, trying to help him as I waited for an answer. I watched as he squirmed, and debated pulling my hand away for a split second, wondering if I was too close for comfort right then. After all, I wasn't sure if I was hovering or not.
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Awkward, insecure, sky, confused. Hell, he could be me if it weren't for the lack of a pulse.
Good lord, no wonder people were so annoyed with me.
"Angel," I sighed, watching him putter around the room hesitantly. "Never...mind. I'll just..." Lay here, panic or be bored out of my wits. "...try to...get some sleep." Which I've been trying since god knows when. It just doesn't seem to be working. But I can pretend.
At least then Angel is free to do whatever he likes and I can wait for this to be over and hope he's not around when I can finally get out of his bed. Naked. And then tip toe into the bathroom and put on the clothes he's borrowed me.
Yup. Things are looking up.
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And watching Angel flounder around it tiring as well. I want to reassure him that I'm fine, that everything will be okay. Take away that awkwardness. But I can't, and I've no idea how to do that anyway. It's not at though we both know how to really talk. When it comes to that I guess we can compete for the title of 'most stoic one'. I just don't want him to sit here and brood.
"Yes," I sigh, managing a tiny nod. Look at that, progress. Good lord, now I'm being sarcastic to myself again. Bugger it all. "Am tired." Now all I need is to actually sleep. My eyes close on their own again and I try to regulate my breathing, try to fall asleep. It's not really working. Frustrating again. I wonder if Angel would notice I'm faking being
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I knew that I probably had made this whole thing worse by hovering over him. He was trying to give himself, as well as me, a way out of the awkwardness... I sighed slightly, then turned my attention to the book of poems.
As we sat there in silence, I glanced at the clock after a while, wondering how much time had passed. My eyes widened as I realized an hour had already passed... which meant two had passed since this whole thing had started. Only anothe couple to go... I listened to Wesley's breathing again, trying to figure out if he was still awake or not... either way, he was still breathing, which was reassuring enough in its own right.
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Keeping my eyes closed wasn't the problem. Falling asleep was. Everytime I thought I was about to come close to dozing of, a sharp pain shot up my leg. It did seem to get less and less, but maybe that was because I was getting used to it. Expecting it. Much like I had with the gunshot wound. After a while I'd gotten used to the pain.
Still, no sleeping. And when one is not sleeping, one's brain is still working. And for some particular reason, mine keeps on working. Sighing, I pried one eye open and squinted toward the clock. Great, I can't really see it without my glasses. Good lord, this is so useless. Now I really wish I was home, so I could be miserable alone, *alone*. "Angel," I sighed at last. "Don't you have...things to do?"
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