Turning to face Ana, Weston’s lips turned up in a small smile, “It’s forgiven.” He folded his arms across his chest and, with a languid grace, he leaned back against the wall.
The vampire looked over at the stereo, listening a moment himself before he made his reply. “There was a time when I was human that I wanted to perform on stage.” Young and full of dreams, Wes had once wanted to run away and join the Lord Chamberlain’s Men to act in Shakespeare’s plays. It had been the foolish dream of a rebellious child. He smiled to himself; the dream may not have lasted but the streak of rebellion certainly had. “It wasn’t as revered then as it is now.”