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.
I didn't mean to be hovering, but I was concerned. We hadn't had anything like this happen yet, and I was unsure how I was supposed to be handling this. I knew how Cordelia and Gunn would handle this, but then... they had all been together for those few months when I was chasing after Dru and Darla. They had that common bond, whereas I was still trying to figure out where I fit back into their group.
I knew I was a good person to have around for a fight, but... I wasn't sure where I fit in emotionally yet. Whether I was supposed to be caring and helping Wesley out right now, or if I was supposed to just leave him alone, let him be all stoic and 'manly'. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to do the latter, and didn't even want to. What that left was an awkward, unsure me, which wasn't helping very much, from the look of things.
I lowered my book slightly, looking at Wesley concernedly. He hadn't been tired a moment ago... was he getting worse? I put the book aside for a moment, studying him seriously for a moment.
"You do look like you need the sleep," I admitted. I sat back, surveying him calmly. Now that I didn't have to focus on reading to him, I could pretend that this was something we were on control of, something that we had encountered before... like I knew how to help.
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 asleep.
"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?"
I didn't mean to be hovering, but I was concerned. We hadn't had anything like this happen yet, and I was unsure how I was supposed to be handling this. I knew how Cordelia and Gunn would handle this, but then... they had all been together for those few months when I was chasing after Dru and Darla. They had that common bond, whereas I was still trying to figure out where I fit back into their group.
I knew I was a good person to have around for a fight, but... I wasn't sure where I fit in emotionally yet. Whether I was supposed to be caring and helping Wesley out right now, or if I was supposed to just leave him alone, let him be all stoic and 'manly'. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to do the latter, and didn't even want to. What that left was an awkward, unsure me, which wasn't helping very much, from the look of things.
I lowered my book slightly, looking at Wesley concernedly. He hadn't been tired a moment ago... was he getting worse? I put the book aside for a moment, studying him seriously for a moment.
"You do look like you need the sleep," I admitted. I sat back, surveying him calmly. Now that I didn't have to focus on reading to him, I could pretend that this was something we were on control of, something that we had encountered before... like I knew how to help.
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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 asleep.
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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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