The tone of his voice took me by surprised. I actually sat back in my chair as though putting some physical distance between us would make me less taken aback. Closing my mouth with an audible snap, I swallow hard and wonder what happened to make the Angel I’d seen in his office come back. Was it something I did? All I did was wonder if Hamilton would actually fall for such a thing. Question his plan, nothing I’d not done before. And he had reacted in similar ways before as well. And yet…
“Hurts huh?”
My eyes glanced to the side, and I noticed Cordelia walking around, looking at my office with interest. She was dead, I knew that much. But here she was, again, walking around as though nothing ever happened. She turned to me and gave me a sad smile before here eyes slid to angel. “On the bright side? At least you go to third base.”
I looked at her confused at that, but then realized that she had loved Angel as much as I did. I wonder what would’ve happened if Cordelia had lived and would be here. Angel and I would’ve never gotten together, that much is certain. Would I still be a cowering mess in the nearest dark corner he could find?
“That’s not and you know it. Suck it up, snooty wooly boy! Angel needs you now. You can be insane weirdo guy later. The smurf isn’t going anywhere, she’ll still be there to torment you when you’re done kay? Sheesh Wes, martyr much?”
Frowning at that, I tore my eyes away from her and glanced over at Angel. Who was still talking. It struck me as odd that before my ghosts had hurled nothing but accusations at me. But now Cordelia was…being Cordy. It was comforting and frightening at the same time. And I realized that all the people I had loved that way were now….dead. Cordy, Lilah, Fred. It almost made me want to track down Virginia.
“I’ll do my best, Angel,” I told him, and how funny was I that I had actually followed his conversation despite the distraction. Distract Hamilton by any means possible. Which would mean I could keep acting the way I’d done thus far, since that seemed to interest him. Let him think he’s using me, while I’m using him. Or some such. I’d rather be with Angel, but if Angel wants me to do this then I will.
I suppose I should be glad he’s dead, or he’ll die as well. Angel, I mean. Unless he doesn’t really love me of course. Not that way. He.. I’m not sure if he does, or if he just… feels sorry for me. Is it actually the people I love who die? Or just the people I’ve buggered? No wait, that would make no sense for Cordy and…Fred. Christ. “Angel?” I whispered, tilting my head to look at him thoughtfully. “Do you think I’m cursed?”
The storm of frustration churning and spreading inside was ready move out full force and then Wes whispers all tiny and small and it's gone. He needs me. I think.
"What? Cursed?" Umm, Hello? I'm the one who's cursed, but I figure now's not the time to mention it. We might get back on Wes telling me I'm a knight in shining armor. "What are you talking about Wes? No way." Is this about Hamilton? Did I say the wrong thing? Now I'm thinking this not touching is so overrated, but he feels even farther away now, then he did just moments ago. Not physically, though that's not helping, but mentally. Maybe he's crawled back into crazy Wes and I missed it. Maybe he's been crazy Wes the whole time and he just had sex with me to cope. He doesn't actually care. Gotta do this alone. Like always.
I turn inward a little, the image of myself holding Wes and comforting him fully in front of me as if there's a second Angel in the room. One who's allowed to love Wes. One who won't throw him to the lions. One who Wes loves back. Looks like he's not the only one reverting. What a crappy couple of...whatever we are. It only takes the drop of a hat to send one or the other of us cowering in a mental corner.
And his simple answer of I'll do my best doesn't ease any of the ache when it floats back to my mind. Of course he'll do his best. He's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. That's what he does.
He seems puzzled for a moment by my question, but his answer is very fast. I can’t help but give him a small smile for that, even if he had no idea what he’d denying. “Cursed,” I whisper, as thought saying the word twice will make it less true. “I’m thinking I might be,” I mutter, more to myself then to Angel in particular. “Everyone I’ve love a certain way…”
Tilting my head I look thoughtfully at a spot on the wall while I think that over. Perhaps it’s the kissing? Everyone I’ve kissed is now dead? Or dead period. It would still mean Angel is save, considering he’s dead already. And he didn’t turn into dust when I kissed him. But then again, not everyone I’ve kissed died right away. Oh god, did I ever kiss Gunn? No wait, I don’t love him that way. I even doubt my love for him at the moment. I think. Christ.
“Maybe it’s the kiss,” I say seriously, turning to look over at Angel. “M-maybe I should find Virginia and find out if she’s still alive. Do you realize Angel, that they’re all dead? Everyone I’ve kissed and loved that way? They’re all gone.” I’m a black widow spider, except I don’t eat my loved ones, nor do I kill them on purpose.
“Melodramatic much, Wes? Geeze! You spend way to many times with Angel… And yeah, okay, me” My eyes darted over to Cordelia for a moment, her shimmering form looking at Angel and I with a mix of fondness and exasperation.
Turning away from her, I lean forward a bit as I look at Angel serious. “You don’t feel ill do you? You don’t feel like…dusting do you?” Swallowing hard, my look turns fearful at the very idea of loosing Angel. This shortly after I’ve….managed to get him to notice me the way I’ve dreamed about for years. That’s why it hurt so much the both times I lost him before. But he came back. I don’t think I could do it a third time, not after loosing Fred and Cordy. And Gunn, in a way.
“You’re not going to di-- leave me too are you?” I asked, my voice so low he’d need his vampire hearing to have heard that.
Hell. I don't what I did, but he's looking off into space and rambling on about being cursed. Why couldn't I have saved Fred? She'd be able to take care of him. But then, he wouldn't need taking care of if she were still around. My hand balls into a fist. I don't know what to do here, this is not my area of expertise. I brood, I fight, and I hurt people. I don't put them back together. I tried with Faith, I tried with Connor, you tried with Lindsey and look where it got me. Nowhere. I'm no one's savior.
He comes back to me and then it's all garbled sense about Virginia and kissing, and dying. He looks terrified. Wes doesn't look terrified. How often does he let his emotions go to look happy? If he's looking at me like I'm going to disappear any second, something is seriously wrong. I get up and before he says dust I'm next to his chair. Screw the not touching. I have to do something.
I kneel down so we're closer to eye level and I can hold on to his hand. I like holding Wes's hand. It comforts me, too. "Right here, Wes. Not dust, just a vampire with a boy holding his hand." A boy he's getting really worried about. I feel like he's still lost in his own world, and I want him back here with me. I'm selfish, but our needs right now aren't mutually exclusive.
"Hey," I say softly, putting a finger under his chin so he meets my eyes. 'You're mine, remember? I've got you." Don't fall apart on me now, Wes. I keep looking into his eyes, hoping he'll see something in mine worth sticking around for.
And suddenly he’s moving so fast I hardly have time to blink before he’s right in front of me. Which is probably a good thing. Just having time to blink, means having time to think. And Angel getting up would usual mean he’s leaving and I’ve done something to scare him off. Which had not been my intent. But he’s not leaving, he’s right in front of me, looking at me with those brown eyes I’m drowning in them. He had gorgeous eyes.
My hand in his is warm and the cool one clasping mine feels more real then the reality around me. He’s real. He’s here. I have to keep telling me that. My eyes dart up to look over his shoulder to see what Cordelia thinks of this. But she’s gone, the moment Angel touched me she seems to have left. Glancing back at Angel, I nod when he says he’s right there. And he’s just a vampire with a… wait a minute.
“A boy? I realize you’re older then I am technically, Angel. But I’m hardly a boy.” I scowl at him a bit, but then recall my fathers visit. He was always calling me boy. Is. He is always calling me boy. I have to remind myself constantly that I didn’t kill him, didn’t empty an entire clip of bullets into him. Some day’s that’s harder then others. Especially the days when I wished it had been really him on that roof, threatening Angel…and Fred.
Chewing my bottom lip, I sigh and glanced down at the hand holding mine. I’m not holding his, he’s holding mine. As though I’m some small child in need of consolation. Connor. I flinch as that thought, almost fearful when his fingers gently tilt my chin up so I have to look at him. “I am?” I whisper, still doubting that, even though there are marks on my neck telling me he’s right. But they’ll fade and this will become another dream. Reaching out with my free hand, I slide the back of it over the soft skin of his cheek.
I can‘t seem to stop myself. As if in trance, I lean forward, keeping my eyes locked on his as my lips brush tentatively over his. Expecting to be rejected, excepting to be rebuffed. "Yours, always.” If only he were mine as well. *Really* mine. As it is, I feel as though I have to share him with the entire bloody world. Closing my eyes, I let the kiss linger for as long as I can, for as long as he allows me to.
“Hurts huh?”
My eyes glanced to the side, and I noticed Cordelia walking around, looking at my office with interest. She was dead, I knew that much. But here she was, again, walking around as though nothing ever happened. She turned to me and gave me a sad smile before here eyes slid to angel. “On the bright side? At least you go to third base.”
I looked at her confused at that, but then realized that she had loved Angel as much as I did. I wonder what would’ve happened if Cordelia had lived and would be here. Angel and I would’ve never gotten together, that much is certain. Would I still be a cowering mess in the nearest dark corner he could find?
“That’s not and you know it. Suck it up, snooty wooly boy! Angel needs you now. You can be insane weirdo guy later. The smurf isn’t going anywhere, she’ll still be there to torment you when you’re done kay? Sheesh Wes, martyr much?”
Frowning at that, I tore my eyes away from her and glanced over at Angel. Who was still talking. It struck me as odd that before my ghosts had hurled nothing but accusations at me. But now Cordelia was…being Cordy. It was comforting and frightening at the same time. And I realized that all the people I had loved that way were now….dead. Cordy, Lilah, Fred. It almost made me want to track down Virginia.
“I’ll do my best, Angel,” I told him, and how funny was I that I had actually followed his conversation despite the distraction. Distract Hamilton by any means possible. Which would mean I could keep acting the way I’d done thus far, since that seemed to interest him. Let him think he’s using me, while I’m using him. Or some such. I’d rather be with Angel, but if Angel wants me to do this then I will.
I suppose I should be glad he’s dead, or he’ll die as well. Angel, I mean. Unless he doesn’t really love me of course. Not that way. He.. I’m not sure if he does, or if he just… feels sorry for me. Is it actually the people I love who die? Or just the people I’ve buggered? No wait, that would make no sense for Cordy and…Fred. Christ. “Angel?” I whispered, tilting my head to look at him thoughtfully. “Do you think I’m cursed?”
Reply
"What? Cursed?" Umm, Hello? I'm the one who's cursed, but I figure now's not the time to mention it. We might get back on Wes telling me I'm a knight in shining armor. "What are you talking about Wes? No way." Is this about Hamilton? Did I say the wrong thing? Now I'm thinking this not touching is so overrated, but he feels even farther away now, then he did just moments ago. Not physically, though that's not helping, but mentally. Maybe he's crawled back into crazy Wes and I missed it. Maybe he's been crazy Wes the whole time and he just had sex with me to cope. He doesn't actually care. Gotta do this alone. Like always.
I turn inward a little, the image of myself holding Wes and comforting him fully in front of me as if there's a second Angel in the room. One who's allowed to love Wes. One who won't throw him to the lions. One who Wes loves back. Looks like he's not the only one reverting. What a crappy couple of...whatever we are. It only takes the drop of a hat to send one or the other of us cowering in a mental corner.
And his simple answer of I'll do my best doesn't ease any of the ache when it floats back to my mind. Of course he'll do his best. He's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. That's what he does.
Reply
Tilting my head I look thoughtfully at a spot on the wall while I think that over. Perhaps it’s the kissing? Everyone I’ve kissed is now dead? Or dead period. It would still mean Angel is save, considering he’s dead already. And he didn’t turn into dust when I kissed him. But then again, not everyone I’ve kissed died right away. Oh god, did I ever kiss Gunn? No wait, I don’t love him that way. I even doubt my love for him at the moment. I think. Christ.
“Maybe it’s the kiss,” I say seriously, turning to look over at Angel. “M-maybe I should find Virginia and find out if she’s still alive. Do you realize Angel, that they’re all dead? Everyone I’ve kissed and loved that way? They’re all gone.” I’m a black widow spider, except I don’t eat my loved ones, nor do I kill them on purpose.
“Melodramatic much, Wes? Geeze! You spend way to many times with Angel… And yeah, okay, me” My eyes darted over to Cordelia for a moment, her shimmering form looking at Angel and I with a mix of fondness and exasperation.
Turning away from her, I lean forward a bit as I look at Angel serious. “You don’t feel ill do you? You don’t feel like…dusting do you?” Swallowing hard, my look turns fearful at the very idea of loosing Angel. This shortly after I’ve….managed to get him to notice me the way I’ve dreamed about for years. That’s why it hurt so much the both times I lost him before. But he came back. I don’t think I could do it a third time, not after loosing Fred and Cordy. And Gunn, in a way.
“You’re not going to di-- leave me too are you?” I asked, my voice so low he’d need his vampire hearing to have heard that.
Reply
He comes back to me and then it's all garbled sense about Virginia and kissing, and dying. He looks terrified. Wes doesn't look terrified. How often does he let his emotions go to look happy? If he's looking at me like I'm going to disappear any second, something is seriously wrong. I get up and before he says dust I'm next to his chair. Screw the not touching. I have to do something.
I kneel down so we're closer to eye level and I can hold on to his hand. I like holding Wes's hand. It comforts me, too. "Right here, Wes. Not dust, just a vampire with a boy holding his hand." A boy he's getting really worried about. I feel like he's still lost in his own world, and I want him back here with me. I'm selfish, but our needs right now aren't mutually exclusive.
"Hey," I say softly, putting a finger under his chin so he meets my eyes. 'You're mine, remember? I've got you." Don't fall apart on me now, Wes. I keep looking into his eyes, hoping he'll see something in mine worth sticking around for.
Reply
My hand in his is warm and the cool one clasping mine feels more real then the reality around me. He’s real. He’s here. I have to keep telling me that. My eyes dart up to look over his shoulder to see what Cordelia thinks of this. But she’s gone, the moment Angel touched me she seems to have left. Glancing back at Angel, I nod when he says he’s right there. And he’s just a vampire with a… wait a minute.
“A boy? I realize you’re older then I am technically, Angel. But I’m hardly a boy.” I scowl at him a bit, but then recall my fathers visit. He was always calling me boy. Is. He is always calling me boy. I have to remind myself constantly that I didn’t kill him, didn’t empty an entire clip of bullets into him. Some day’s that’s harder then others. Especially the days when I wished it had been really him on that roof, threatening Angel…and Fred.
Chewing my bottom lip, I sigh and glanced down at the hand holding mine. I’m not holding his, he’s holding mine. As though I’m some small child in need of consolation. Connor. I flinch as that thought, almost fearful when his fingers gently tilt my chin up so I have to look at him. “I am?” I whisper, still doubting that, even though there are marks on my neck telling me he’s right. But they’ll fade and this will become another dream. Reaching out with my free hand, I slide the back of it over the soft skin of his cheek.
I can‘t seem to stop myself. As if in trance, I lean forward, keeping my eyes locked on his as my lips brush tentatively over his. Expecting to be rejected, excepting to be rebuffed. "Yours, always.” If only he were mine as well. *Really* mine. As it is, I feel as though I have to share him with the entire bloody world. Closing my eyes, I let the kiss linger for as long as I can, for as long as he allows me to.
Reply
Leave a comment