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Aug 22, 2004 06:03

It was light when I awoke the next morning. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, hadn't even meant to stay the night, not really, but... Wes had needed me, had asked me to stay, offered me a shoulder to cry on - a place I could cry, without ever feeling guilty about doing it.

Normally, I wouldn't have taken him up on the offer. Me, cry? I don't think so. Last night had been different. Visions, friends being double crossed, other friends' sons being taken... It had all taken its toll, I guess and, truth be told I was kinda thankful for the reprieve of having to be 'fine' all the time.

He'd made tea.

It shouldn't bear so much importance but... It was so British, so unbelievably Wesley that I just started to laugh and then, out of nowhere, I started to cry, right there in Wes's living room.

I'm not sure what time we fell asleep - whether we talked before or whether I just closed my eyes and drifted off (God, I hope not). I'm not even sure what time it is right now.

I feel his body stirring next to me and half-turn on Wesley's couch, looking at the guy I've called one of my best friends for three years now.

"Morning, Wes." I say, stifling a yawn.
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