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visings (visings) wrote in 20somethings,

Vi didn't bother changing. She'd still been in her ripped shorts and baggie hoodie from her day in the production booth, but she just pocketed her phone, stowed away her wand, and floo'd to Wes' place in the country without a moment's hesitation.

Stepping out from the fire, she charmed away the soot and brought a hand to her hair, worn down, to make sure it wasn't a total mess. "Wes?" She called out, moving into the room, wondering how he was really feeling about it all. Not just the show he put on, via text or otherwise, or the anger and violence he'd wrought. She wished she could comfort him, but she also knew he probably wouldn't show her any of that - any of what was deep inside of him. Violet didn't have that ability; what she was feeling was always just at the surface, ready to flood over the very, very short walls she had. She envied him for it.

She also just plain cared about him. For him. Fuck. When she was really honest with herself, she could admit that she had feelings for him. She knew that was a non-starter, but in moments like this, it killed her just a little bit.