wesley wyndam-pryce (wyndampryce) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-10-23 12:06:00 |
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Wesley Wyndam-Pryce exited the shower and reached for a towel to wrap around himself as he did so. He had stayed up too late looking at texts, trying to find some idea that would work as a back-up plan for Darla, something perhaps besides the possibility of ensouling her considering that the materials needed to do that very well might not be available in this dimension. Fred had already left for her work and if he didn’t hurry he would be late for his own shift at NYPL. He stepped from the bathroom and into the bedroom he and Fred shared and towards the bureau where he kept his clothing. The truth was that staying up late doing research was precisely the sort of thing Wesley wanted to be doing right now. The fact that he had three journals with precise notes gave him a feeling of usefulness that was comforting and familiar. Research in this dimension was different than research at home. Magical texts, the Watcher’s Diaries, things he was used to utilizing and pouring over were not available here. What was available here was an odd mish-mash of mythology, fiction, and legend that might or might not lead to anything that would work as a real possibility, but Wesley had never backed down from a challenge. The challenge was precisely what he needed to keep him sane at the moment. And it was doing something that had the potential to help Angel, to help Connor, to possibly make up for the mistakes he’d made - even well intentioned - regarding Connor and Angel and the false prophecy. In addition, Ever since Darla’s unanticipated arrival and the subsequent conversation with Lilah over the network Wesley had been struggling to put the latter event out of his mind, but it had proven to be complicated. Lilah. He reached for a pair of trousers and pulled them on, his mind settling on the matter as he fastened them and reached for a shirt. The entire relationship had started from self-loathing and the recognition that whatever her alliances, she held a certain undeniable attraction to him. When he’d arrived here he’d been in the middle of that, and in all honesty he’d given it very little thought after his arrival. He had sworn up and down it wasn’t a relationship. It wasn’t a thing he thought about. it wasn’t anything important, and so it had been relatively easy to put from his mind. When Fred had arrived, she’d been the only thing on his mind along with the fact that perhaps he’d have a chance with her here in this situation. And that chance had turned out to be a reality and there were moments Wesley still wasn't certain he wasn't just in some dream dimension rather than a simple alternate one. Fred ought to be the only thing on his mind now as he stood getting dressed in a bedroom he shared with her, in a flat that was theirs. So why in the name of everything he held dear could he not put Lilah from his mind? Wesley stared at his face in a mirror, a small frown on his brow. Part of him couldn’t help but think that the real reason was because he believed he didn’t deserve Fred and never had. And yet at the same time he was reasonably certain that Lilah didn’t deserve him. He had treated her appallingly, the only thing he’d done right by her was to end the affair, and Wesley only knew that it would happen in the future at home - it hadn’t happened yet for him. Which was perhaps part of the problem - when she’d shown up she’d served to remind him of that particular part of his life and he’d hoped to put it behind him for good. He’d felt some guilt about how he’d treated her, because in the end he’d become aware that she was a real person and she deserved better and he'd tried to offer her some friendship in an attempt to help with that, but that seemed to only complicate matters. Fred seemed to believe he was a good man. But Lilah’s reminder of what had happened when he’d come in contact with Billy only reminded Wesley of his own self-doubts in that regard. A part of Wesley could still hear criticism levelled to him by his Father. What kind of man was he really? He held the capacity to do whatever it took. He’d killed and he’d tortured. As Lilah had reminded him of the relationship they’d had he had found himself pushing away from the idea of who he’d been with her. They had broken at least one piece of furniture and he’d enjoyed that. What did that say about him? What did the fact that he would keep Justine chained in his closet until she gave him what she wanted say about him? Who was to say he was truly better than some of those he’d fought against? he pushed away the memories of the past and shook his head. Lilah had purposefully pushed his buttons and he was intelligent enough to know it. And intelligent enough to recognise how easily she had played on his deepest fears about himself, but recognising that and truly ignoring it seemed to be different tasks. He finished dressing, pushing aside the crippling self-doubt that had come with it. Fred had agreed to move in with him. He loved her and she seemed to care about him regardless of what he was afraid he might be or perhaps equally worrying, what he could be. A glance at the clock reminded him he needed to be on his way. Wesley reached for a watch and slid it on his wrist, then for the phone and keys which he slid into his pocket. He flipped off the light switch on the way out of the room and exited the flat through the front door towards the elevator still deep in thought. As he stepped up to the elevator and pushed the button he realized there was a bowl of candy on the floor. He frowned at it for a moment wondering if he ought to do something with it as resident assistant, but as he stared at it he realised, were those milk buttons in there? He crouched down and shook it to uncover, strangely enough, buttons. It wasn’t the sort of thing one saw everywhere in the States and it was too good an opportunity to pass up. He reached for the milk chocolate ones and in picking them up uncovered the white chocolate buttons as well. It was greedy to take two and Wesley knew it but he realised he couldn’t pass them up. He slid both into his pocket as the elevator door opened and smiled as he stepped in and pushed the button for the lobby. He tore open the packet of milk chocolate buttons and took one out, popping it into his mouth to allow it to melt on his tongue. He might gain an appreciation for Halloween candy after all. |