violetleaves

[violetleaves]

with an eye-roll and a scoff, brielle continues gathering her belongings and stuffing them into her backpack. there isn't even an attempt at hiding her annoyance, it's written all over her face and tumbling out of her lips like: "of course you're on her side -- you and everybody else. she doesn't always have all the right answers, you know. and yet, you all do whatever she says." bitterly, she brushes past him and grabs her hoodie, hanging up on the wall beside his. "i don't want to wait for another goddamn full moon. too many people have gotten hurt, and if i'm right, and i know where it'll be tonight after it hunts, we could stop this thing from doing it all over again next month. aj might think i'm not ready, but i don't care what she says -- i know myself. i know if i'm ready or not." she says firmly, grabbing jeremy's jacket off the wall and tossing it towards him. "you don't want me to go alone? then come with me." there's no way he'll say no, she thinks, and even if he does she's still intent on going -- even if he did call up aj and everyone came looking for her. she takes a step towards him and places a hand on his shoulder. "and i promise you, killing this thing isn't part of my plan. i just want to wait until sunrise, and see who it is. you know, after it transforms or whatever?" she shrugs, unsure of what actually happens. her only references of it are from watching teen wolf and reading about it in the weird occult books laid on the table in front of them now. "and then, then we figure out what we wanna do, okay?" she smiles, and pats his shoulder. "okay. so, coming or not?"

the flinching is unintentional, but it's followed by a glare in brielle's direction. jeremy stands up straighter, hands against his hips as he shakes his head. "yeah? and maybe someone needs to keep you the fuck in check, bri. at least if aj was spearheading this you'd have a plan that isn't an overpriced water bottle and some weeds in your pocket." his hands ball into fists as he lifts them up, turning on the spot to walk before he turns back to her. the light in the library basement is low, only the lamps that scatter the room on in his attempt to prevent a headache. the research he'd been working on before he'd intercepted brielle is scattered across his desk, books and articles open on his laptop. "can't you just wait? there will be other full moons. i'm not letting you run off into the woods alone on a possibility."

[violetleaves]

"the stanley is full, that could do some serious damage." she contends, holding it up like she's about to whack him with it. "if i told you, you would've gone blabbering to aj about it, and she would've tried to stop me. i know there's something out there, jer, and i'm not gonna stop until i find it." shining her flashlight into the woods, brielle takes a step forward and shakes her head. "besides, you don't think i fucking reek right now? my pockets are stuffed with wormwood so i think i'm gonna be fine."

closed starter for @violetleaves

"what was the plan of action here, exactly? oh, i've found a werewolf, i think... i'll go alone and hope i can beat it into submission with my fuckin stanley cup. you could be dead!"

[violetleaves]

i think they'll love you. god, wes can only dream! nothing would be better than mom and dad washington loving him as much as he loves their daughter. even spending a second to fantasize about it is thrilling; what it might be like becoming a part of charlotte's home. thanksgivings, and birthdays, and family vacations -- how life is supposed to be lived, together amongst people loved most rather than every waking moment being dedicated to ones career. he's spent most of the flight over overthinking how exactly to impress mom and dad ( when it really isn't necessary, isn't flying halfway across the country enough of a grand gesture for them to be over the moon about him? ), but with charlotte's comment and the overwhelming desire to treat her like a princess, it really shouldn't be that hard. he knows all he has to do is showcase his love -- that being said, he doesn't know how ready he is for a one-on-one conversation with either of her parents yet, which is why he's happily following closely behind charlotte as she has quickly entered host-mode and is grabbing things to set a space for wes at the table and do last minute preparations to dinner. she's buzzing around the kitchen like a bumblebee, and appliances are flowers she's pollenating, checking in on things and glancing back over at him as if to make sure he's really truly there. he wonders for a moment as she's offering him a glass of wine if this is just how charlotte always acts around the holidays, or if she's a little on edge because of his unplanned arrival. he wouldn't blame her if there were nerves, besides, he thinks it's kind of cute anyway.

"wine isn't too bad." wes lies, taking a sip from a glass he's poured himself. all of a sudden charlotte stops in her tracks and turns to face him, and wes is about to say something so cheesy like call me a christmas gift, because i'm so wrapped up in you right now -- but she insists on warming him up and suddenly wes is setting down his wine glass on the kitchen counter and being whisked away by charlotte, past her parents sitting cozily on the couch, around a corner towards what appears to be a bedroom. wes comes to a quick halt in the doorway, even though charlotte has sauntered inside and begun rummaging through a drawer. instinct is telling him that this bedroom belongs to her parents, and while wes knows that the washington's are nothing like the nichols, he can't help but think he's not allowed inside. wes has only entered his mothers room ( at home or hotels ) a total of twice in his life, and both occurrences resulted in rather unfortunate consequences that have left wes under the lifelong impression that a parents bedroom is strictly off limits. the way that charlotte is freely able to wander through their room however, is rather refreshing.

here wes is thinking he's acting all weird by not following in after her, standing all vampire-like in the doorway waiting for an invitation inside, when charlotte announces that she's worried that she's the one being weird, handing him her fathers sweater. "you're only being a lot if in this context a lot is synonymous with extremely adorable." wes promises, slipping his arms into the sweatshirt she's provided and pulling it over his head, tussling his hair a little bit in the process. "you think i don't get it?" he smiles, tugging her closer, up against his chest. "i just flew halfway across the country because i couldn't wait another minute to see you. by all means, cling to me, please." this is all wes has wanted for months -- he doesn't need to kiss her, he doesn't even need to speak, but to have her in a close embrace like this... it's the perfect christmas gift.

charlotte's mother calls from the other room, inviting everyone to join her at the dining table, and the two are forced to put their embrace on hold again for a while and indulge in a home cooked meal like nothing wes has ever experienced before. in the matter of minutes that the two were in the other room, charlotte's mother has made the tablecloth look like something out of a hallmark movie that wes' mom would think he's too good to go out for. there are side dishes galore, gravy for days and a gorgeous roasted chicken right in the center of the table, looking juicy and cooked to perfection with charlotte's overflowing love. "wow, this looks incredible." wes thinks out loud, sitting down in the seat charlotte has set for him. it's unfortunately across the table from her, but at least there's a view.

"thank you so much for having me." wes says as they're all settling in and piling up their plates with what looks to be the most delicious thing wes will have ever put in his mouth before. "especially on um, you know, no notice." he smiles nervously, grabbing a scoopful of mashed potatoes and dropping them onto his plate. "i don't think i've ever had dinner like this before, so... it's really special, and i'm very grateful." wes tells them earnestly, looking at either end of the table to express his gratitude with not only his words but also eye contact. "and again... making space for me with no notice at all, it's really kind... thank you." he looks back to charlotte, his smile growing wider the longer his eyes are set on her. "i just really needed to see charlotte, it's been a long time now and... she's really, really important to me."

"i believe the last time we spoke you were quoted saying ' my favorite person on set '." mrs. washington chimes in, fork in the air and pointed in his direction. wes chuckles, nodding his head in agreement. "maybe i should've said favorite person on any set, ever, because that's how much i mean it." pouring a generous helping of gravy over basically the entire plate, wes notices his hand shaking a little bit as he attempts to muster up the courage to express in a more detailed way how much he loves their daughter without directly saying the words i fucking love your daughter. "really though, she um... she's makes that place bearable a lot of the time. and you know, i don't have to tell you this," he sets the gravy dish down, suddenly feeling like maybe he's rambling. "she's so talented that scenes together -- they're like three takes max. she's professional, brilliant, makes everybody laugh... yeah... yeah, she's pretty much perfect."

     it feels almost impossible not to cry, lottie's pretty sure she's embarrassingly teetering over the edge in the most embarrassing fashion as she looks back at him. it can't really be helped, not after all the time apart, not after the last time they saw each other. she doesn't want to be cliche and exclaim that it's a christmas miracle, but if the shoe fits... the sight of wes on her favourite holiday is the best gift she's ever received.

     he couldn't wait to see her. he pulled strings. this is the wes that makes her stomach somersault and her heart thump wildly in her ribcage, declarations of love fighting against the logical part of her brain to be let out. thankfully, his hands are on her cheeks and pulling her in, effectively shutting off the chance. she can pour it into her kiss, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she brushes her nose against his, tilting her head to deepen it a little bit. when they pull back, she's still too eager, pressing a quick peck to his cheek before he speaks as bright, excited eyes trace his expression, as if she's making sure he's real. charlotte grins at his words, head tipping to one side. "mm, i think i might have an idea." she laughs and there's some freedom to it, the loneliness she'd been contemplating on melting away. it still doesn't quite feel real, having wes there in her childhood home. it's not quite like having him in the townhouse, though those moments were just as special. this place is more real, more home than anywhere else she's kissed wes. it feels like it's sealing something, a stamp of authenticity on their romance which has been so up and down. lottie eases back a little bit, jokingly posing in her dorky christmas pyjamas as he admires them. "what? embarrassingly festive?" she jokes, but considering all the things he's told her, she's a little sadder at the idea that wes hasn't at least had some sort of lavish, warm christmas his entire life. it seems cold is more what he's used to.

    he's inspecting her nails one second, where she's tried to draw little bows like she saw on a tiktok nail art video with slightly less success. it doesn't matter anyway, since she'll clean them off before she goes back to film. lottie's pretty sure that no matter how far her career takes her, she'll remain forever invested in giving in to whatever embarrassingly earnest traditions her family has instilled in her. that includes going overboard for the holidays in the most wholesome ways possible. "mm?" she prompts him quietly, her fingers curving over his so that she can gently rub the back of his larger hand with her thumb again. she caresses gently, her breathing stilling for a second as he mentions her parents. she doesn't respond at first, because if wes is about to ask her to not tell her parents anything when he's just showed up unannounced at her house for christmas, he might be asking too much this time. what he does say instead surprises her and it shows in the way her brows lift for a moment and she blinks, lips parting as she looks away. the smile on her lips is telling, even if she's trying to play coy right now. "yeah, i mean, i haven't told them everything, but they're definitely not stupid. i think they have an idea. i'd love to be able to tell them, at least the simple version, that there's... something between us."

     using the word simple when talking about their relationship is kind of laughable, but charlotte isn't interested in overcomplicating the conversation. she meets hie eyes with a confidence she feels like she hasn't had in a while. the mention of autumn prompts an eyeroll, though she knows it's a necessary thing to mention. "i think they'll understand it. and they know how to keep their mouths shut, it won't be some like, sharing gossip at the nail salon thing. they aren't like that. not that you seem worried." it's a point for him, that's why she points it out. lottie squeezes his hand back and then beams at him, one of her biggest smiles yet. to hear him so vulnerable, the intimidating, talented wes nichols timidly asking if her parents will like him. it's kind of funny. early days of little boxes charlotte would be very, very confused. "i think they'll love you." her free hand lifts, cupping his cheek so she can offer him a peck. "who wouldn't?" she teases.

     "i better set this place for you at the table, though. we're eating soon, then we watch cheesy christmas movies... and then we do one gift at midnight." immediately lottie recalled something, trying to keep her face entirely neutral as she slips from his grasp. immediately she's heading over to the cupboard to get him one of their fancy christmas plates, cutlery and a glass to make his spot at the table. there's a spare gold placemat since they always come in sets of four anyway, so she's thankful for that as she sets them down on the table. it doesn't take long, though she decides to hover back towards wes. "i'll check the food!" she drags him back to the kitchen, practically making him follow her around like a lost puppy. at this point, being apart for more than a minute feels like torture. "do you want some of this wine? it kind of sucks, but we might need the help finishing it?" she asks, indicating to the bottle before she goes to lean down in front of the oven, noticing that the roasted chicken and vegetables look perfect and ready to come out. "five minutes, i think! we'll set up!"

     she drifts back to him, taking a small sip of her wine and making a face before her attention shifts entirely. "i still think you need something warmer." lottie decides, tightening her grip on his hand as she leads him back out, past the back of the couch towards her parents room. once inside she drops his hand and begins to search for a grey sweatshirt she likes stealing that's far too big for her anyway. as she secures it and marches it over to him, she pauses, realising that she's kind of focusing on everything but him because she's not quite sure what to do with herself. "is this weird? am i being a lot?" she asks, eyes widening. they have to go back out and put all the food out on the table, but she supposes needing a second to come to terms with his sudden presence is fair enough. "i've just... i've missed you a lot. like an unbearable amount and i feel like if i stop it's just going to be a lot of tears and clinging to you like, way more than i am right now." / @violetleaves

[violetleaves]

just wrote for the first time in like. six months. feeling : PROLIFIC

[violetleaves]

    despite sloane’s relatively tame dare, casper takes it rather seriously and she finds herself relatively impressed by the effort he seems to pour into this unscheduled performance that neither of them bought tickets to. she’s doubling over herself giving him applause, still laughing and then shifting uncomfortably as the reminder of the swiftly melting ice cubes in her bralette makes her squirm. of course, the distraction from the wet spots growing on her tank top happens to be flynn going through the works trying to light a cigarette with his feet, apparently due to his best friend’s foot fetish. she watches both in surprise and slight concern, zoning out halfway through because unlike cas, she doesn’t have any interest in staring at the toes of the man she’s seeing… even if it’s a little impressive that he’s managed it.

    all of a sudden the attention is back on her and she feels her cheeks warm just a little, mostly because the ice cubes have since melted, leaving her nipples poking through the fabric of her top. “mm?” her gaze flickers to cas and on instinct, she reaches to snatch the lighter, flicking it for him with the briefest of eye contact as she bravely (see: foolishly) selects dare. deft fingers reach for the box of cigarettes as she rolls her eyes, removing one and lighting it for herself. sloane hasn’t smoked in a while and only ever does it when she’s got some alcohol in her, but something about being the odd one out pushes her to do it. she brings it to her lips, considering her dare for a moment. “well, i’m gonna take this whole situation,” she motions towards her chest with her hand. “to mean that you’ve got a whole lactation kink going.” rising up out of her seat, she makes some distance between them as she selects ‘her most tantalising fetish’ from the reel of not so. “i don’t think this is going to be as thrilling as you think.” she sighs, taking a puff from her cigarette before she promptly shuts her mouth.

     holding up her index finger, she indicates one word. then she stalls for a second, the alcohol not quite pushing her over the hurdle of acting this out in front of two alcohol filled gang members who just so happen to maybe still be her favourite customers. even if casper owes her a hundred apologies. her free hand slides up her middle, moving slowly as she draws it out unnecessarily, a wry smile on her lips as her hand wraps around her neck. a soft gasp leaves her, the theatrics coming out as she struggles not to laugh at herself, squeezing just a little as she tips her head back and mimics a noise of approval. “or, is that not tantalising enough?” her brows raise and she turns to her side, using the wall for support as she leans against it, arching her back. she places the cigarette in her mouth and brings her hand back against her own ass cheek, giggling as she stands up again. “i better get an applause, even if mine aren’t as weird as casper’s.” 

     returning to her seat, this time a little flustered by hiding it well, she narrows her eyes and then steadies her gaze onto flynn. “your turn again: truth or dare?” at this point, they’ve been barrelling down a road of dare after dare and apparently flynn doesn’t want to stop the momentum. sloane narrows her eyes, trying to think of something that might entertain her after she just gave them a very clear insight into what she likes in the bedroom. maybe part of it is the fact that she’s getting a little too comfortable, but the dare comes out of her mouth before she can think. “i dare you to… kiss cas. with tongue.” she doesn’t know if she expects him to do it or drink, though she’s noticed the two of them are closer than most best friends. 

         if casper wasn’t sure if sloane was okay with him after all this time, he sure is now as she reaches across the table to help him light his cigarette. he doesn’t show the excitement, the absolute joy rushing through him at such a simple act -- he doesn’t even say thank you, but his ego is soaring. he doesn’t have too much time to focus on they way he’s working his way into sloane’s heart though, because she’s holding up a finger and wilder is calling out one word, and casper is watching closely, not just because he finds this to be undeniably hot, but because he has to be the one to answer first. “choking!” and he is, shouting it out as soon as her hand begins to graze her collarbones. flynn rolls his eyes, but is quick enough to get the second one before sloane’s even brought her hand down on her ass yet. “spanking!” he says cheerfully, and as requested, the two boys give her an ample amount of applause for her valiant effort. 

it’s flynn’s turn again, and casper isn’t surprised that they’re bouncing these truth or dares between the two of them, but he is pleasantly caught off guard when he learns that the dare his best friend has been given has to do with him. not so excluded this time, he thinks with an arrogant smile. 

          “you fuckin’ better kiss me with tongue.” casper demands, his tone shifting from playful seriousness into one that oozes authority -- and while this isn’t the first time flynn has heard cas use it with him before, he blinks, all of the alcohol he’s had tonight rushing to his head and he’s suddenly nostalgic for nights he’s spent pinned beneath casper’s grasp. his eyes dart to sloane for just a moment before casper’s lips are right in front of his, and he’s wearing the devious smirk he always sports before he’s about to make a move that often makes flynn like his heart’s in a chokehold. 

casper’s goal is to make this as captivating as possible, give sloane a performance equally as entertaining as the little solo show she’s just given them -- so as his lips meet wilder’s he’s slow, and intentional with his tongue, not just a sloppy, rushed makeout to get through this dare. casper needs this kiss to be so hot that sloane wishes she could be the one on the receiving end. he raises his hands, one hand cradling the cheek of his best friend and the other gripping onto his almost too greasy black mop of hair. he’s not exactly paying attention to the way wilder has basically gone limp, turning to jelly under the power of casper’s mouth, not when cas has to impress. the chase is on, and while it might be all in his head, sloane’s giving him signals... tonight might be the night. the one where everything changes -- the one where he’s not excluded anymore. all he has to do is seal the deal with her and everything will go back to the way it used to be... plus with sloane in the picture, a little bit better. 

       “been a while since we last did that, eh wilder?” casper says as he pulls back, and he glances over at sloane to gauge her excitement over what she’s just witnessed, but there’s a gloss of confusion across her face beneath what he assumes is attraction. “what -- you’re telling me you’ve never told sloane about how much you love kissing me, wilder?” casper teases, brushing his thumb across wilder’s lip and leaving it to rest on his chin, keeping him close. he’s looking a wide eyed, speechless wilder deep in the eyes before his gaze flickers back over to sloane, watching them.  “i mean, uh...” flynn stammers, unable to stop looking at casper’s lips, inches away from him. “we don’t really... talk about you?” a comment like this might set cas off, might make him jealous, or inspire him to whine about fomo, but instead he laughs it off and moves his hand from flynn’s face and leaves it around his throat. “ahh, well sloaney, you’re missing out on some good stories. the kind where you’d learn that you and wilder have a lot more in common than you think.” he tightens his grip slightly, flynn whimpering in his grasp before he’s pushed back in his seat and released from casper’s clutches.

brain still buzzing, flynn is trying his best not to appear so clearly vulnerable, even though it feels like casper has just laid every card flynn has been neglecting to show sloane right out on the table. she already knows that he’s bi, thank god, but he wasn’t sure when -- if ever, he planned on telling her oh yeah, sometimes cas tops the fuck out of me, no biggie, like casper is so casually spilling right now. but flynn doesn’t have the time to ruminate on this, not when they’re still playing a game and it’s his fucking turn. “so, wilder, you gonna dare sloaney to kiss me now, or what?” cas asks, wearing a cheshire smile as he looks directly at sloane across the table, wondering if perhaps she’s thinking the same thing. “‘cause i can’t imagine after watchin’ that little show we just put on that she isn’t fiending to find out what it’s like.” caught in between the haze of a kiss with his best friend and the knowledge that sloane still isn’t the biggest fan of casper, flynn is momentarily perplexed, his eyes darting between the two of them before landing on sloane. “ummm,” he starts, lazily raising his hand from his lap and pointing at her beside him, “i’m going to take a wild guess that you’d like to pick truth?’ 

[violetleaves]

     the very idea of not being home for christmas after the year she’s had makes charlotte want to cry. she can’t imagine spending her holidays without the smell of her mother’s snickerdoodles and her father’s jokes that are always a hair too stupid to be funny… and yet somehow funny regardless. she likes los angeles, but there’s a loneliness she’s encountered there, one that sits in such stark contrast to the homey, warmth of her childhood home. she’s grown up lucky and she knows it, which is why she’s relieved to be on break from filming her movie. she’s spent her first couple of days at home playing her old keyboard and looking through her old songwriting books and though her parents refuse to throw any of her old things out on their own, she does the work for them in getting rid of old school books and sorting through her bookshelf and wardrobe to make a box labelled donations. a trip home has swiftly become days filled with intent to rejuvenate herself… and maybe pause on being so miserable every time she thinks about how much she misses wes.

     christmas eve has been spent baking and cooking and wrapping presents for the extended family that they’ll see for a late lunch the next day. now that she’s twenty-one, she and her mother have been sharing an expensive bottle of red wine that they don’t like all that much and joking about how next time they’ll just buy the boxed stuff. she feels more adult than she ever has, with her money and her job and her show that her dad keeps putting on when she’s not looking, just to see how long he can get away with it. she plans to text wes before bed, maybe see if they can have a call because she misses the sound of his voice, but she’s trying so hard to not think of him.

     of course, that backfires on her, because it means she’s wholly unprepared when she hears someone at the door. and when her father calls her over and makes a weird pun she doesn’t quite register.

     the sight of wes nichols on the front porch of her childhood home, poorly dressed for the weather is just about the last thing she expects on christmas eve. “wes.” she says his name softly, coating it in surprise as she blinks and smiles uncertainly. it doesn’t make sense, how he’s made his way here, but she chooses not to question it, instead flinging her arms around him despite the shock still rippling through her. “oh my god!” she exclaims finally, as she buries her face in his neck. “i wish i wasn’t wearing these stupid pyjamas!” she giggles, shutting her eyes for a moment before she forces herself to pull back. “you’re freezing, come on. we have a fire i can sit you down in front of.” she ushers him in, standing back and taking the door in her hand so she can shut it behind him. it’s only then she notices her parents joined in the hip, looking at them both in amusement.

    “can wes stay for dinner?” and maybe forever? she’s tempted to never let him leave and go all kathy bates in misery right about now. “of course, honey. long as you set another place at the table.” her mother eyes her carefully, indicating she plans to chat to her about this later. for now, all charlotte cares about is the fact that wes is here, standing in the open plan living room and dining area of her parents’ house. nodding, they pretend to be interested in whatever christmas movie is playing on the television while lottie leads wes towards the kitchen. “are you still cold? i could get you a sweater or something? you probably wouldn’t fit into any of mine, but you could borrow one of my dad’s, i guess… i…” she loses her breath as she turns to look at him, finding that her cheeks have warmed and she almost feels awkward. she doesn’t know what to do with herself, her confidence needing time to build back up. charlotte hasn’t seen him since their last night together, since he kissed her fucking breathless and things finally seemed to smooth out for them.

     her brows knit together as she watches him, holding his hand tightly in her hand as she looks down at it. her thumb is gentle, running over the skin of his hand in small, nervous but soothing motions. “how did you get here? i mean… i didn’t think i was seeing you for another…” she shakes her head. “i can’t even do the math.” she laughs and blinks and her tendencies towards emotions taking over fight their way to the surface and of course she’s bleary eyed. “kiss me so i know i’m not having an elaborate hallucination?”

         the look on her face, combined with the delicious way she always says his name is worth all the effort he’s put into this. cherishing her expression doesn’t last long though, because in a second her arms are around his shoulders and suddenly it’s like he’s no longer freezing. charlotte’s embrace is instant warmth, spreading across his whole body, and he hugs her back tighter than he ever has before. “what’re you talking about,” wes laughs, kissing the top of her head. “you and your dad look awesome. kinda wishing i’d given a heads up to secure myself a set too.” he doesn’t want her to let go, but they have the opportunity to be close all night now, and as she tugs him into the home wes is tempted to let his eyes wander and soak up charlotte’s childhood, but for now all he can do is stare at the beautiful woman he’s been reunited with. she looks so excited, and he wonders if she was wearing that look of joy before he’d shown up -- it is chrstmas after all, but he’s selfishly going to take all of the credit.

as charlotte asks her mother if he can stay for dinner, he finally takes a moment to glance around a home that feels ten times more lived in than his own. that smidge of jealousy he once felt when meeting charlotte’s parents for the first time is starting to creep back in, but how can he be jealous when he’s about to be included in their christmas? he follows her into the kitchen, reaching for her waist to pull her in closer now that the eyes of her parents are no longer on them. “no, no, no. don’t get me anything.” wes insists, not wanting her to go anywhere. he’s unable to stop smiling and she turns around in his grasp, wes sighs, so incredibly thankful that he’s managed to pull this off so far and he hasn’t even been here five minutes yet. “i pulled some strings. i couldn’t wait the full six months, and i knew you weren’t filming right now so...” there’s a look in her eyes that wes hasn’t seen before: happy tears are brimming, and they’re incredibly contagious. he’s grateful that she’s asking for a kiss, because if she keeps looking at him like that for another second he’s pretty sure there are going to be waterworks for the both of them. 

how on earth could wes have ever thought he could survive the entire six months without the feeling of her lips pressed against his? he grips her face in his hands, his fingertips still chilled from the outside heating up almost immediately against her warm rosy cheeks. wes doesn’t need the fireplace, or one of her father’s sweaters -- all he needs is her heart to warm his, and his body temperature is right back to normal and steadily rising. wes does not want this kiss to end, but at the same time, he doesn’t really want to run the risk of one of charlotte’s parents walking in on them, so when the moment feels right, he slowly pulls back, that big smile still spread across his mouth. “i’m so happy i’m here right now, you have no idea.” not just because he’s back in charlotte’s presence again. the alternative is christmas alone in his bedroom. there’s no familial party to attend, as wes doesn’t know any of his extended family. it’s always just been wes and his mother, and until charlotte entered the picture, that’s all he thought it would ever be. “don’t think i’ve ever really done christmas the right way... at least, not like this.” he drops a hand from her cheek to tug on the collar of her pajama set, and it slowly travels further down to take her hand in his. he stares at it for a second, still smiling as he admires the festive nail polish she’s adorning. “so, um...”

         “i don’t know if you’ve told your parents anything...” he doesn’t think so, but he definitely wont be upset if she has. “but they should know. if you want them to know.” wes thinks if he explains the importance of keeping this on the down low, perhaps they’ll be understanding and maybe even welcoming of him into the family. family... he’s already imagining it like they’re a real couple -- like there’s a serious future awaiting the two of them. he hopes so, at least. “plus, i mean... i just kinda showed up here. i’m sure they’re in the other room assuming things as we speak.” 

his free hand throws a thumb over his shoulder and he makes an effort to look her in the eyes again, wanting her to know that he means it. that he’s not trying to hide them from everyone anymore, that he’s making that effort he promised he would in the steps towards the two of them actually having a future together. “i know autumn’s still in the picture, and that’s probably going to make things confusing... but i want them to know how much i care about you.” he squeezes her hand, nodding his head seriously. “do you think they’ll uh... like me?”

[violetleaves]

season one break: day 86... christmas eve -- aka, the christmas special location: charlotte’s childhood home time: 7:20pm for: @thursdaygrl​

          the probability of this not completely blowing up in wes’ face is not in his favor. there are so many different aspects of this that could go wrong -- whether it be his mother finding out his true intentions, or charlotte not being happy to see him, or something like a cruel act of god shooting a bolt of lightning at his private jet, it’s highly unlikely that he will make it out of this weekend getaway without something going horribly wrong. how, exactly did wes manage to get himself on a solo flight to charlotte’s hometown to party crash christmas at her parents? it’s partially due to the perks of having a jewish pilot fly his private jet, and the other part is all wes and his masterful scheming. if he thought he was good getting that photoshoot set up, now that he’s forty thousand feet in the air he thinks he just might be a connoisseur. 

however it was not easy tricking his mother into thinking that wes has an audition in the midwest on christmas day, but his determination to see charlotte made it all worth it. he spent most of the day researching casting calls that would be filming in denever, and with luck on his side he’d managed to stumble across one having open call auditions just thirty minutes outside of charlotte’s hometown. he made a few fake emails, pretending to be the director inviting him to attend, and shot them off to his mother who he knew was going to be preoccupied the entirety of the following day and would not be able to join him on this trip. “i’ve set up an audition for you tomorrow.” she’d said, not even looking up from her phone as she sent back an email confirming wes would be in attendance. “you’ll be taking the jet tonight and will be back home tomorrow by the end of the night. you have an appearance on kimmel on the 26th so we need to squeeze this in as quickly as possible.” 

one night is all he needs. just one night with charlotte in between this six month break will at least sooth the voices in his head that beg him to get closer to charlotte every single day. 

immediately as wes steps off the plane he realizes he didn’t even think to check the weather. this christmas in california happens to be a particularly warm one, and while wes is wearing a cushy green sweater... that’s it, and the only thing he’s brought with him on this spontaneous adventure is charlotte’s christmas gift. no overnight bag with extra clothes, or even a jacket in case he gets chilly. it’s not snowing right now, but it seems like the sky could open up any second, and as wes scurries across the tarmac to the car he’d ordered he’s starting to wish he’d maybe prepared a little bit more. 

it’s a lot warmer in the sleek town car that’s escorting him to charlotte’s childhood home. another showcase of wes’ excellent scheming skills is in his procuring of this address. he was only able to get it a few hours ago, once he’d decided that he had to go through with this crazy plan, through jack. a simple, hey, merry christmas! text along with the lie that he wanted to have christmas cookies last minute delivered to charlotte’s house was enough to get jack to send it on over immediately. 

but wes has not ordered christmas cookies. he’s brought himself instead. and now that his driver has dropped him off, he’s standing outside of charlotte’s childhood home, shivering his ass off. he waits a beat -- nervous for a second like maybe he wants to turn around and throw this crazy plan out the window but he’s come so far, done so much scheming that he can’t turn back now. taking in a deep breath, wes lifts his hand and musters up the confidence that he only ever feels while acting and finally knocks on the door. there’s voices on the other side, chattering about who could be at the door unexpectedly on christmas eve, and while wes hopes that it will be charlotte who is the one to greet him, instead it’s the head of charlotte’s father, poking out and smiling before he opens up the door a little bit further. the man is dressed in brightly colored christmas pajamas, green and red plaid from the cap on his head to the slippers on his feet. he recognizes wes, not just from the show he and charlotte star in together, but from their one brief interaction a few days before his daughters birthday. he doesn’t loudly announce wes’ presence at the door, which wes is grateful for, but instead he smiles, and nods. 

          “lottie, honey, i think it’s for you.” mr. washington calls over his shoulder, “looks like you’ve got a present from old saint nichols.” the joke doesn’t exactly land, but it still makes him laugh, albeit anxious laughter. charlotte’s father disappears, leaving the door cracked open, but he doesn’t exactly invite wes inside. that’s charlotte’s job, if she wants him here, that is. she approaches, looking angelic as ever dressed in the same plaid pajamas as her father, and his heart skips a beat. he can’t believe he’s seeing her right now. it’s been almost three months, and he still feels the same: hopelessly, hopelessly in love with her. “hey, uhhh...” he starts, shifting his weight between his feet as he looks down at the snowy pavement. he’s shivering his ass off, unprepared for the cold weather. “i know this is probably really weird... but any chance you have room for one more at dinner?”

[violetleaves]

season one break:day ?? aka wes’ 23rd birthday location: wes’ house time: 4:56pm inspired by: never ask by shayhan  for: @thursdaygrl 

wish it was temporary ( can’t contain what’s said )                                                       wish it was easy ( can’t contain -- obey )          is there a possible way? ( got to be a way )                                         to leave your feelings ( there’s got to be a way )

         wes is by no means a birthday hater, but he’s never exactly looked forward to his own. if he isn’t busy filming on the big day, his mother would have something big planned. something publicized, to boast their wealth and status. these events are never actually catered to celebrate wes’ birthday; they’ve never been full of his friends or cast mates ( not like he’s ever had any friends or cast mates he’s gotten along with to come anyway )  -- in fact most of the time they’re filled with people twice his age with names he doesn’t know or care to, just like tonight. there are nearly a hundred people, not including the staff, filling the nichols home for the first time in practically a year and wes can name all of the people he knows here on one hand.

autumn, of course, there’s no way she would miss the twenty third birthday of her her “ boyfriend. ” his mother, obviously, because it’s her party after all -- wes honestly isn’t sure if most of the guests are even aware that this is actually his birthday party. and emilia, a wildcard guest who wasn’t exactly picked by wes to attend, but he’s glad she’s here nonetheless. his gaze has landed on emilia pretty much anytime he’s looked up from his phone when he’s not playing brickbreaker, which he happens to be doing right now, sitting all lonely-like on a bench beneath the staircase, nearly out of sight from most party guests. emilia has spotted him though, and despite the fact that he’s made himself appear unapproachable, she still decides to saunter up to him and lean against the staircase, blocking view of him completely from anyone else who might be passing by. 

             “figured i should come say happy birthday.” emilia says, inspiring wes to look up from his phone and see an awkward smile on her face as she stirs her drink with the little red bar straw. “you don’t uh, really seem like you’re having that good of a time? isn’t it your party?” an eyebrow raises and she laughs a little. “i mean, cry if you want to, by all means, but like what’s your deal?”

          “i mean, emilia, come on. when have you ever seen me look excited to be somewhere?” he counters playfully, which causes emilia to roll her eyes and take a seat beside him. pushing on his arm a little, she continues to press: “okay, fair. but like, for real: i feel like i haven’t even seen you bring out the fake charm like once tonight. what gives?” he tilts his head towards her, wearing a skeptical look, unsure if he wants to explain himself. but emilia is trustworthy -- she’s always been trustworthy. she’s had months of opportunities to spill about himself and charlotte, about the autumn ordeal, and she’s kept it to herself. she’s getting a little tired of waiting, clicking her tongue and adding: “look, i know i’m not lottie, the only person you like to open up to apparently, but i’m the closest thing you’ve got, so... what’s. up.”

wes hides a laugh and shakes his head, giving in and telling her what she wants to hear. “it’s a combination of the fact that i don’t know anyone here and that this is not exactly my dream choice for a birthday celebration.” 

          “yeah right, you totally know people here.” emilia argues, looking over her shoulder and glancing around the party to see if even she can name drop a few faces. 

          “nah, just you. and...” he sighs, pointing across the room at autumn, who is currently leaning against his grand piano, swinging her drink around carelessly and nearly spilling its contents onto the shiny black surface. “autumn, obviously. and i mean, you’re only here because of autumn, really.” wes elaborates, “my mom said i could invite one person, and autumn said it could be you, so...” he looks back at emilia, biting his lip as he realizes that may have come off as a little rude. “not that i don’t want you here,” he rushes to add, “i’m actually really glad you are.” 

          “i’m sure you’d much rather have lottie here.” emilia smirks, but she notices the look on wes’ face and the way he opens his mouth to give her more than one reason why she couldn’t be. “i know, i know, autumn would never let it happen. she’s not the biggest charlotte washington fan i’ve noticed... i’m guessing it has to do with... you?” her head cocks to the side and an eyebrow raises inquisitively. 

         “she thinks there’s something going on between us.” wes says quietly.

         “uh, yeah, probably because there is!” emilia laughs, but wes waves his hand seriously to stop her. 

         “we really, really, cannot be talking about this here.” he mumbles, aware that absolutely anyone could be listening to them right now. he’s picked a secluded spot, but that doesn’t stop the people who want to hear gossip from finding a way to listen. emilia drops it, and the two sit quietly for a second before wes decides to change the topic entirely. “god, any minute now my mom is gonna call me over and insist i play chopin or grimuad to show off to her guests and i’m gonna wanna pull my fucking hair out.” wes complains, leaning forward and resting his face in his palms. emilia looks around for a second, almost embarrassed for wes and his little pity party. 

          “okay, so... let’s ditch before she has a chance?” emilia suggests, but wes just groans in his hands and shakes his head. 

           “ditch where, i can’t leave the party.” he moans -- but then it hits him, and he springs back up again, jumping to his feet and holding his hand out to emilia. “actually, wait, you wanna see something cool?” 

hesitating at first, emilia leaves her hand hovering above wes’ for a second as she eyes him suspiciously, “define cool?” but she does give in, and wes drags her through the party to the back of his home, towards the elevator. “jesus christ, you have an elevator?” emilia scoffs, incredulously staring at him for a second before reaching out to push the button, but wes grabs her wrist. 

        “yeah, but we’re not taking it. someone might notice the doors open and follow us down.” wes leads her down the stairwell into the basement, down to the recording studio that is now a hub of memories of charlotte. 

        “oh my god, as if i couldn’t get any more impressed. this house has a goddamn recording studio?” emilia is looking around like she’s about to pull something down off the wall and play it, but wes is beckoning her over to one of the swivel chairs and holding out a pair of headphones. 

          “listen...” wes lowers his voice to a whisper, even though there’s zero chance of anyone hearing them down here. even the sound of the party above them has been quieted by the sound proofed walls. “charlotte’s agent might kill me for letting you listen to this, but...” as soon as emilia slips the headphones onto her head wes is enthusiastically tapping the spacebar to allow the song that he and charlotte have created 

this is probably the thousandth time wes has listened to it. other than charlotte and her agent, he’s the only person that has access to it at the moment and he’s almost reveling in the fact that right now, it’s just theirs. but he doesn’t mind sharing it with emilia, and he’s sure charlotte would approve of her ears getting a taste of the song they’ve put together. he relaxes in the chair, eyes closing as he takes in every note of the song. charlotte’s voice fills the two sets of headphones and wes doesn’t even bother to look to see what the look on emilia’s face is like. he’s too deep in his head, reliving the sweetest moments of the day when they’d recorded this song. he can see everything so clearly, the look of joy charlotte showed when they’d finished the song, the passion in her eyes as she sang into the microphone ... her sitting on his lap at his keyboard. all of it. it’s why he’s listened so many times -- it’s the quickest way to relive every second of that day.

when the song ends, the two of them remove their headphones and wes eagerly waits to hear what she thinks of the song... however the words that come out of her mouth are not words of encouragement about the track, in fact the question she asks comes entirely out of left field:

            “so like...” emilia spins around in her chair, raising an eyebrow as wes meets her gaze. “how in love with lottie are you, exactly?” 

his face must be as red as a tomato, and he’s frozen in shock wishing he were looking anywhere other than emilia but he’s stuck staring at her like a deer in headlights, not even sort of expecting those words to be coming out of her mouth. “i’m sorry... wh-what?” he finally stammers after ten seconds too long of trying to figure out if she’s really just asked him that.

        “come on, wes! she wrote a song about how you basically broke her heart and your response was: let me produce and mix it for you.” she rolls her eyes, spinning around in the chair once again. “and if you think i didn’t see the look on your face just now when we were listening, you’re sadly mistaken. i know the eyes of a lovesick puppy when i see them.” emilia accuses, and while her tone is playful and friendly, and wes knows that all emilia has ever been is trustworthy, wes feels absolutely mortified. he shrinks in his chair, leaning back and trying to spin away slowly but emilia places her hand on the arm to stop him, forcing him to turn back and look at least in her direction. “i know you think everyone is out to get you or whatever, but i’m not everyone. i love lottie, and i care about you too. not just because of her, because we’re friends.” she must notice the look of skepticism on his face, because emilia smirks, rolling her eyes. “i know i can be hard on you sometimes but it’s only when you deserve it. and even after all of the times i’ve seen you be a dick to lottie i’m still rooting for you guys so...” sighing, she releases the chair from her grasp and leans back in her own. “i just want you to know i’m here for you, if you wanna gush about her. because i get it, she’s fucking incredible. and what you tell me is in confidence because i am your friend, wes nichols. i may be autumn’s choice as your only guest tonight but i think you would’ve picked me anyway.” 

         “speaking of her we should get back up there before she thinks something is going on between us too.” wes grumbles, pointing at the ceiling in disappointment. it’s a way out of answering the question, which emilia recognizes and doesn’t push him any further to answer. wes isn’t about to tell emilia how in love he is with her best friend, not because he isn't ( he absolutely fucking is ), but he wants the first person to know to be the girl in question. i’ve never loved anything more than i love charlotte, is what he would tell emilia, but he’d rather say: i’ve never loved anything more than i love you first much, much more. 

they return back up to the party, and thankfully no one has noticed their disappearance for the most part, other than his mother, who grabs his arm the first chance she gets and says: “i’ve been looking for you everywhere, weston!” she squeezes him tightly, as if to scold him for not being more accessible, but she grins wide as there are people watching, and begins to escort him over towards the grand piano that wes is surprised isn’t covered in autumn’s cocktail. “everyone has been dying to hear you play grimaud.” his eyes flicker to emilia, not too far off, and she flashes him a sympathetic look, well aware that this is exactly what he was trying to avoid happening. 

but wes must play. he must entertain. it’s all he’s ever done, and maybe all he’ll ever get to do. 

another birthday goes down the drain, and as wes performs for the crowd of strangers, he wonders if he’s a step closer to the freedom he’s been craving for years now. if twenty-three will finally be the year he breaks the chains that lock him to the woman who forces him entertain -- to constantly and willingly obey. 

with charlotte as his motivator, he think it may very well be.

[violetleaves]

    whatever romantic experiences that charlotte has had prior to wes, they truly do pale in comparison. merely his ability to read her alone, his hand taking hers to try and ease the thrum of anxiety in her, a gentle motion soothing and easing the thoughts racing in her mind, about whether her experiences taint her somehow. she’s sure he’s not expecting some blushing virgin, but if she’s completely honest, she doesn’t think she has a true handle on what good sex is supposed to be like. she has an inkling, an idea made up of stories from friends and smutty books or fanfiction consumed in youth, but depictions of intimacy don’t quite match up to the real thing, at least not as far as she can tell. she can see them in words, hear their moments in songs, but the feelings aren’t quite so easy to put into words. lottie might spend a long, long time trying, though… and she’s just fine with that. kissing him still makes her feel dizzy and she wonders if that’ll ever fade, that heady excitement she feels every time their lips connect.

    as wes’ arms tighten around her, she smiles wistfully, leaning in to kiss his cheek sweetly, though she hasn’t quite wrapped her head around the fact that they’ve reached this place together again only for her to have to leave for so damn long. “i don’t like thinking about it either.” she complains, sighing as her eyes flutter shut, trying to commit the feeling of him so damn close to her to memory. if she ends up snuggling a pillow thinking of him for the entire production of the movie, then so be it. she hates that he confirms that she needs to go, hands tightening on his shirt and it’s her turn to hold on tighter to him. she’d stay forever in this house if it meant getting some more time with him, as excited as she is about shooting a movie. her career is taking off and she knows she can’t sacrifice it for anything, not even him. not that she thinks he’d ever want her to. besides, the issues of autumn and his mother haven’t yet disappeared. they’ll pop back up again, once this blissful, affectionate moment has to come to an end. “you’ll text me a lot though, right? as much as you can? and maybe i can call every now and then… and facetime, ‘cause that long without your voice or your face seems unfair.”

    her head tilts, leaning heavily into his palm with a tender gaze and she completely melts as he once again tries to convince her that she can’t leave him just yet. her own ability to resist is fragile and getting more weak with every second, but she tries to clench her jaw. “wes…” she trails off, but then his lips have found hers once more and she can’t say or do anything but let her eyes flutter shut, kissing him back once he lingers a little longer than a moment. her fingers brush his cheek, reaching for the side of his neck as she kisses him back. it’s slow but eager, her head tilting as she deepens it once more, but she manages to stop herself, her nose bumping into his as she smiles. “why do i feel like we’re gonna go in circles of you doing that over and over again, honey?” she murmurs, lips brushing over his as she tempts herself, or maybe him. the pet name slips out, feeling comfortable but thrilling once it’s said.

    “kinda don’t mind, though…” swallowing, lottie sits up a little taller, using both of her hands to push his hair back off his face, getting a good look at him while her cheeks flush and she feels the squeeze of her heart. he tortures her with the look in his eye over and over again. from the moment things started up between them, he’s been doing it. she’s so unbelievably weak for it that she’s kissing him again before she even knows it.

    this time when charlotte stops, it’s more abrupt, her hand on his chest, easing him back. her stomach twists with anxiety as the time ticks closer and closer to when they’ll absolutely be pushing it in terms of her flight and him with his mother coming home. “promise me you won’t get tired of waiting six months for us to be like this again?” she feels silly for asking, especially considering the fact that wes is in a pr relationship he’s not even happy to be in and has never indicated interest in anyone else. her anxiety is spiking the more she realises she actually does need to leave and fairly soon. “i’m not ready to lose you again.” she admits, the vulnerability only making the anxiety worse, but she needs some comfort before she can untangle herself from him.

          “absolutely.” wes smiles, fondly thinking about the phone calls and long text conversations the two shared over the mid-season break. only, that break was just a couple of weeks, this one is going to be a lot more difficult. “and for the record, you’re welcome to blow my phone up whenever you want.” he assures her, knowing that anytime her name pops up on his phone screen there’s a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. “reading a twenty-text, stream of consciousness from you would definitely light up my day.” it would likely be the peak of his day, if wes is being honest. there wont be much to look forward to without charlotte around, and he knows he’ll be looking to her messages and tik toks for comfort more often than he should.

 luckily for wes, charlotte doesn’t need much convincing to stay a little longer and makeout, and when she calls him honey, his expression becomes one of absolute delight. “honey, huh?” he chuckles, looking up at her as she pushes his hair out of his face. “i should be the one calling you honey, ‘cause i really can’t get enough of that sticky sweet.” lost in it once again they become, their mouths moving with a fiery passion that wes has only ever felt when he’s with charlotte. no stage kiss, no one night stand, no one could ever compare to the way it feels when he kisses charlotte washington. when she breaks their kiss, hand against his chest, wes falls back into the pillows with a sigh, his brain, heart and cock all still buzzing a little bit from her affect on him. he’s about to say something silly and mildly possessive like: i hope you don’t have to kiss anybody like that in your movie; if you thought i was jealous of jordan... but charlotte gets the first word, and as the query leave her lips, he blinks, a little shocked at the question after all of the begging and pleading wes had done earlier in the night. 

      “i promise.” he whispers, leaning back up again and pressing his lips to her cheek. “you are worth waiting for, charlotte. nothing is ever going to change how i feel about you, how much i want this -- you and me. especially not time.” charlotte’s lips are like a magnet, and he is a flimsy piece of metal being pulled into her field. there isn’t much time left for the two of them to spend lip-locked, but wes treasures every moment, every smack of their lips, every single breath they have to take before they dive back in again. but time moves faster when you want it to stop, and before they know it, it’s nearly ten o’clock, and charlotte has to say her goodbyes. they take their time getting charlotte’s stuff together, they’re handsy as they head down the stairs and wes steals as many possible kisses as he can before his hand hits the doorknob and she steps out onto the dimly lit front porch. “six months is going to fly by.” wes tells her, lying through his teeth. he knows this is going to be the longest six months of his fucking life. this is the first time he’s ever felt anticipation, there’s never been something to keep him  feeling giddy about the future. he kisses her forehead, wearing a sad smile that he almost wishes charlotte didn’t have to see. “i’ll see you soon.”

wes lingers in the doorway, his shoulder pressed against its frame, arms folded across his chest, waiting patiently for the moment when charlotte looks over her shoulder one last time to give him a smile. but when she does, it’s not enough. she’s already turned around and wes can’t hold it together. “hey -- hey.” he calls out, and it’s only half a second before she stops in her tracks and turns around again, facing him completely this time. he shakes his head, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck. “i’m gonna miss you like crazy.” her pretty little head tilts to the side and she rolls her eyes, like she’s giving into the voice in the back of her head that’s saying: just one more kiss goodbye -- because she marches right back over to wes and throws her arms right around him. 

if wes could hold her like this forever, he would. it’s safe here, in her arms. it’s not safe behind his back, in the home he hardly grew up in, where his mom will return soon enough to keep him on his strict regimen. exhaling a shaky breath, he runs his fingers through charlotte’s curls one more time, and she lifts her gaze to look back up at him. “like crazy.” he reiterates. “don’t forget that.” one more kiss goodbye -- and he makes sure it’s worth it, one that she’s not going to forget anytime soon. one that will make the next one even more delicious and rewarding. he cradles her face in his hands and holds on until neither of them have any breath left in their lungs. and then it’s goodbye, for real this time. no calling out and beckoning her back for one more... just standing in the doorway, watching her leave. he waves one more time as she exits the driveway, but he’s not really sure if she’s noticed or not. and then he heads back inside the empty mansion. 

alone again. he should relish this alone time, away from his mother who should be back in just a few hours. he could mess around a little longer in the studio, or play his heart out on his keyboard in his room but instead the only thing wes wants to do is look at charlotte. and since he can’t do it in person, he figures he’ll get his fix another way, doing something he never thought he would do: watch the shitty teen soap opera the two of them star in. he heads into his bedroom first, grazes his fingertips over the spot charlotte had been in his bed and with absolutely no shame at all picks up the pillow she’d rested her head on and gives it a big whiff. it smells like her, but it’s not nearly as good as the real thing. he tucks the pillow under his arm and grabs a throw blanket off the end of the bed, looking around his room for his phone which appears to be nowhere in sight. it must be in the kitchen, he thinks, and so he heads downstairs, the blanket trailing down the steps behind him. there it is, sitting on the counter where he’d left it when he and charlotte had their little disagreement, and when he taps on the screen his heart sinks into his stomach when he sees how many notifications he’s missed from his mother over the past couple of hours. he makes his way into the living room as he opens the messages. 

kathleen [ 8:07pm ]: We’re spending the night in Napa. I’ll be home at noon tomorrow. You have an audition at 2:30. I’m forwarding you the script now.  kathleen [ 8:45pm ]: Confirm that you’ve received the script Weston.  kathleen [ 9:25pm ]: Why aren’t you responding?  missed call from kathleen at 9:37pm missed call from kathleen at 9:44pm missed call from kathleen at 9:55pm

        “fucking bitch.” he says out loud, tossing his phone onto the couch before he miserably throws himself on as well. so charlotte could’ve stayed over after all. well, not really, since she has to leave in the morning, but wes thinks if he’d checked his fucking phone and seen that she wasn’t going to be home tonight wes could’ve persuaded charlotte to stay the night. he pulls his cozy blue blanket over his body and sinks deeper into the couch, clutching the pillow to his chest, wearing a look of disdain all over his face as he flicks on the television and scrolls until he finds a place to watch their show. he starts with the pilot, even though he’s already watched it at charlotte’s viewing party. rehearsing this new audition piece is the last thing on wes’ mind as he begins the episode, ready to relive their first few moments together on set. he still has to text his mother back though, and while it always makes him nervous to do so, he sends her a little white lie: 

wes [ 10:07pm ]: was working on liberace. will take a look at the script now. kathleen [ 10:08pm ]: Good. Have it memorized before I return tomorrow.

[violetleaves]

     it’s somewhat of a relief to know they’re on the same page, especially since this development between them is so fresh. it doesn’t feel like they’re repeating the past, not like other times they’ve kissed and crashed headfirst into all the rules they’ve set between the two of them. charlotte believes that this is an inevitable path the two of them are finally on once again, in that hopeless romantic brain of hers. despite everything that stands in their way, including a girl who proclaims herself his girlfriend in front of cameras, they’ve finally reached something real. admittedly, she kind of wishes she’d known this was going to happen today, maybe she would have used more of her time alone with him instead of getting stuck on still toeing that line. she can’t take back how they’ve gotten here, though. she wouldn’t. “that’s all i want.” she agrees, finding comfort in how gentle he’s being with not only his affection but with her heart.

    they’re both fragile and raw after everything between them, with pasts edging their way to the surface as they continue to grow close once again. lottie is a little more relaxed, now that they’ve broached a subject that’s new territory for them and boundaries have been set, even if they’re the kind they can very easily rub up against. with months stretching out after this where it’s highly likely they won’t see each other, it’s also probably for the best they don’t get so carried away. distance makes the heart grow fonder, sure, but it also makes communication more fraught when the situation is as delicate as theirs. all of that is on her mind and not the words she’s let slip, assuming the general knowledge that plenty of girls have less than stellar experiences with sex. most people, really, especially when dealing with domineering men. she’s spoken about these kinds of things nonchalantly to jack and emilia, thrown in vaguely her own stories and it’s not like they haven’t been kind to her about it. she’s just never thought of her sex stories as being particularly atypical. that’s probably why she’s not expecting wes’ words, nodding as he requests to ask her something. “of course.” the question he tentatively provides surprises her and she blinks for a second, her mind going blank. “um…”

    does charlotte particularly want to have this conversation now? not really, but she supposes she brought it up, walking about her less than stellar sexual past and what she presumes to be normal straight man behaviour when it comes to getting into bed. she’s hesitant to answer, her first instinct being to brush it off casually, but something stops her. he’s being so delicate with her once again, assuring her that he’d never make her feel like that. “i know, wes. you really haven’t… you let me initiate and you always make me feel safe, it’s not…” her brows furrow. “i don’t want it to sound like something it’s not. everything i’ve ever done was consensual, like, i wanna make that really clear, it’s just, i don’t know. i feel like that happens to everyone, or at least it was happening to plenty of girls i knew at the time and i’m talking like… high school. sex was supposed to be this thing you were coaxed into doing. i didn’t know how to get comfortable enough to enjoy it, then. maybe that’s part of why i like the idea of going slow, of learning each other.” she wants something that feels equal, that values not just his desires but hers as well and from the second they began to discuss what they wanted it’s been clear to her that wes finds that just as important. she’s still a little unsure of what to say, tucking her hair behind her ear as she gives him a soft smile and then focuses her gaze on smoothing out his shirt against his collarbone with her fingers. “my ex-boyfriend from back then still lives out here in la.” she adds, thinking about the time she accidentally scrolled on her for you page on tiktok and was accosted with his naked torso as he mimed to an audio of some damon salvatore line. she’d blocked him immediately. “we moved here together, actually. we both wanted to pursue our dreams, him with social media, me with acting. we broke up pretty quickly. well, he broke up with me.” she regrets that it wasn’t the other way around, but unfortunately it took him leaving her for lottie to see their relationship for what it was.

    charlotte still isn’t looking him in the eye. “anyway, i think he just liked it like that… just, rough, aggressive. lots of guys do, you’ve never heard locker room talk?” her fingers continue to fiddle with his shirt, until she thinks she’s going to wear a hole into it by sheer force of will. “that was a dumb question. sorry. just, yeah, i mean, my answer to your initial question i guess is yes. i appreciate that i’m not worried about that with you and i promise, i’ll never rush you either.” she confirms, leaning into him and finally feeling fully confident to lay on that eye contact. the question of his experiences rattles around in her mind, but she doesn’t ask him just yet. she needs a second to not think and she’s already distracted now that her gaze has flickered down to his mouth. lottie closes the distance between them at a glacial pace, until her lips press against his and she finds herself once again getting carried away. it builds up as her head tilts and once again her tongue is sliding against his mouth, her ability to breathe going to the back of her mind until she absolutely has to consider it.

    reluctantly, as her nose brushes against him, she thinks of the time. “i know i have to leave soon, but i really don’t want to.” she complains, brows furrowing in frustration. “the second i get to have you i’m supposed to fly off and film a movie.” she scoffs, unimpressed by the timing of the universe.

            maybe wes shouldn’t have asked her this question, because the startled expression she briefly sports has wes concerned that he may have overstepped. but he couldn’t not ask, not when he would’ve spent the rest of the night overthinking what she’d said the moment she would’ve stepped out the front door. but charlotte begins to explain, and wes listens thoughtfully, nodding along as she describes what her high school experience with sex was like. wes can’t relate, considering all of his schooling was done on sets in between takes, taught by very highly paid prestigious tutors his mother had hired to make sure that his education would still be top notch whilst he was becoming a rising star in television. the only high school that wes can say he’s experienced would be the moments that have been written for him over the past decade. charlotte continues, but she’s not just talking about high school anymore -- she brings up her ex, and even though wes knows that this man is very much in her past, something within him begins to burn hot with jealousy. 

the urge to cyberstalk the fuck out of this ex-boyfriend that supposedly still lives in los angeles is running ramped through wes’ mind. this is probably something that he shouldn’t do, but the moment that charlotte leaves he knows he’s going to be tapping and scrolling until he’s learned every last detail about this man so that if he sees him in the street he can treat him like the scum of the earth. wes wants to start talking shit, but he bites his tongue. there’s so many negative things he wants to say: make fun of the fact that he’s pursuing social media as a career, that he can’t properly please a woman, that he would ever consider leaving charlotte, the most incredible woman on this planet. but wes keeps his pessimistic thoughts to himself, knowing that saying any of them ( except for maybe the last one ) isn’t productive to their conversation. 

she’s extra fidgety, and since she wont meet his gaze, his eyes are stuck on the way she’s playing with the fabric of his sweater and once the action has gone on for just a little bit too long, wes reaches to take her hand and stop her, rubbing his thumb in slow, soft circles on the palm of her hand in an attempt to calm her down. he shakes his head when she says it was a dumb question, because while yeah, he hasn’t actually heard locker room talk, there is a television equivalent and he’s certain that dressing room talk has to be just as bad. once she finally locks eyes with him after what feels like ages of avoiding his gaze, it feels like his heart is fluttering in his chest. “i’m glad that we can trust each other.” wes starts, but he notices the way charlotte has now begun looking at his lips, and his train of thought is screeching to a halt on its tracks. “and i uh,” he  smiles. “i’m excited to see... what we learn about each other...” he would go on, but charlotte is kissing him again and all he can focus on is how perfect the rhythm between them is. how together, they are the most passionate song ever written. when she pulls back too quickly, wes frowns, and the expression only grows more sad as she mentions that she’s going to have to leave soon.

          “i don’t want you to.” he whines, holding on tighter. “i wish you could stay over. and in the morning i’d take you to the airport, and we’d have one of those cheesy airport goodbye scenes -- the kind that i’d usually hate to film, but i wouldn’t hate this because i’m not going to see you again for six fucking months and it hurts so bad to think about.” he nuzzles his head into her neck, breathing in her pheromones and wes doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to survive half a year without getting to hold her like this again, kiss her like he did, simply just smell her again. six months of uncertainty leading up to another six months of waiting. it’s a terrifying thought, but wes is a whole lot more hopeful this time around. sure, autumn will still be a roadblock when they reunite again in the spring, but all of the cards are on the table now. they’ve said everything they can up to i love you to make it clear how serious a relationship between them means. “but i know you have to go.” wes whispers, defeated. “and i know you couldn’t stay here.” 

pulling back out from the safe space that is the crook of charlotte’s neck, he lifts his hand to cradle her cheek in his palm. “but you don’t have to leave right now, do you?” he asks, a softness to his voice that almost sounds as if he’s about to start begging her to stay again. he controls himself though, smiling and letting his eyes wander to her lips, leaning in to kiss her but stopping just before their lips meet. “don’t you wanna stay and make out with me for a little while longer?” he asks, licking his lips. “make up for lost time, or tide each other over for the next six.” he gives her a peck on the lips, “fucking.” another peck. “months.” one more, but this time he lingers for a while, kissing her sweetly but seductively, encouraging her to stay for maybe a little longer than she’d intended. 

[violetleaves]

     despite best intention, slater recoils at the notion of her being dramatic. her expression shifts quickly, between a resigned polite smile, to vague annoyance and back again. her gaze flickers to her shoulder, her lips pressing into a firm line. “i’m so not being dramatic.” it’s strange for her, to feel even remotely riled up by something someone else has done. it’s unusual for her to even have fallen into a relationship like she has with natalia, which maybe speaks to why she’s feeling uncomfortable. “she didn’t even look at me.” she grumbles, seeking out her drink.  “and she kept laughing. you didn’t even say anything funny.” 

         “she said hello. probably would’ve asked your name if i hadn’t said it first.” there’s no real reason to defend her, natalia doesn’t really know why she’s doing it at all but the words come tumbling out anyway. perhaps reveling in the feeling of someone being jealous over her for the first time in her life. “i’m sure it was just nervous laughter.” shrugging, natalia looks around the engagement party, stopping when her eyes fix on her ex girlfriend embracing one of the brides to be. she only looks for a moment before turning back to slater, a smirk forming on her lips as she eyes her up and down. “and she should be nervous. i brought the hottest girl to the party and she’s here alone, so...” confidently, her hand slips around slater’s waist, pulling her in closer as if they’re the only two in the room. “ignore her.” she insists, “i’m gonna. let’s get drinks.” 

[violetleaves]

{ for @felteverywhere​ im sorry ive been gone im tryin to get back into it xoxo }

         “i think you’re being a tad bit dramatic.” quietly is how the words are intended to come out, spoken in a way that won’t make natalia’s new girlfriend feel as though she’s looking to scold her, but in reality they slip from her tongue with attitude and even though she lovingly slips her hand onto the other girls shoulder, the words are still paired with an eyeroll. “we were just being friendly.” her hand wisps through air, brushing the moment aside. “she may be my ex but it’s nothing that you need to be worried about.” 

[violetleaves]

    charlotte wants to commit the soft whimpers that leave wes’ mouth to her memory permanently. she almost can’t believe it, her mind feels fuzzy as much as she tries to hold on to the sound of it, replaying it over and over as he kisses her temple and reassures her that she has a place in his mind the way he does in hers. all her embarrassment and bashful tendencies ease as he begins to try and explain himself, stopping and starting and pausing until she finally feels him pull back. it removes his shoulder as her hiding place, her hair falling into her face until he’s pushing it away and her eyes are open and vulnerable as she watches him. she can’t believe he wants to make eye contact with her while he explains what he likes in bed, but it inevitably turns her on just that notch more than she’s already been feeling.

     being a little hot and heavy is one thing, but this conversation is new for them, a ground they haven’t yet covered in their time together. interruptions and fractured moments haven’t allowed them to reach this beforehand, but nothing really prepares her for his answer to her question. she blinks, looking back at him inquisitively for a moment, as if she’s not quite sure what she’s hearing. wes liking being told what to do seems a stark contrast to the burdened, trapped reality he seems to live in, but as he elaborates on it she thinks maybe she understands it. or at the very least, she’s starting to. “ah…” she makes a noise of understanding, watching as he begins to melt into the nervous person she was a moment earlier, as if the two of them reflections of one another. her hands rest against his shoulders, rising up to his neck to find his warm skin as she watches him begin to unravel just a little bit, rambling on. she thinks it just might be the cutest thing in the world, seeing him be so shy about enjoying her bossing him around a little bit. she wonders idly how deep it goes, but it seems like something to explore down the line and not right this second. though, the going down on her for hours thing piques her interest in a way that’s visible on her face, brows raising, cheeks flushing. she vaguely recalls a comment from her birthday, a drunken, hot admission that she can’t remember the exact words from. “wes.” she says his name in a smile and then pouts. “hey…”

    she matches his movement from earlier, brushing hair from his forehead and then cupping his cheek, leaning in for a peck rather than telling him to shut the fuck up like he’s asking her to. “it’s new, us talking about stuff like this. it’s totally normal to feel a little weird about it, but… i like being the first one you told about that. i like it when you trust me and let me in.” lottie pauses, something overtaking her as her gaze sweeps from those thoughtful, beautiful eyes of his to his lips. her hand shifts, her small hand taking his chin with all the confidence of someone double her height. “if we were doing that, you doing everything i said… you’d need to trust me, wouldn’t you?” she asks, fully aware that she’s teasing him. maybe it’s unfair but she doesn’t allow him to complain, leaning in for yet another kiss, this time softer and more adoring than the last. she’s thinking about his question, his wondering what she likes and she finds that she’s probably as mortified as he was a second earlier at the idea of sharing her fantasies. swallowing the lump that’s formed in her throat, she pulls back, staring at his shoulder as her hand slides down it, fingers sliding underneath the sleeve of his shirt mindlessly as she thinks. “i like what you said about going down on me. that’s definitely something i’ve imagined… more than once. probably lots of times. it’s stupid—” lottie meets his gaze. “i just think you’d be really good at it? something about being a musical prodigy… and a hard worker.” there’s an amused grin on her face that’s hiding her slight embarrassment saying all of that aloud. “but, other than that…” she pauses again, still on the fence about exactly what she wants to tell him.

    there’s a brave girl inside her, someone who eagerly gets on top of him, who exudes a confidence people don’t expect from such an innocent looking face. this feels different, though. it’s far more than that. “i guess sometimes i imagine what it would be like to give head without being rushed or like, having my head shoved down. and i like imagining it’s you. getting to go slow, teasing, surprising you. today has inspired some really good sounds to replay in my head for that and… literally anything else.” she licks her lips and knows that she’s plucked a thought from her mind that she thinks he might like. she trails off, her mind going elsewhere as she looks up at the ceiling. as if her cheeks weren’t warm a second ago, they’re far worse now. “i like the idea of learning each other slowly, of like, lavishing and adoring and worshipping. i like… early morning and late night stuff too. anything that includes spooning and maybe being half asleep. or at least i think i would,” her brows furrow together as she pauses, her hand turning to a fist that leans against his chest. “i haven’t had a whole lot of enjoyable sex.” the admission surprises her, but she’s feeling like she may as well just keep being honest with him.

    “i don’t know why i’m telling you this, i guess because i know we haven’t really talked about this until now and i don’t wanna get carried away… as much as i actually do kind of want to.” she smiles, but it’s resigned, she’s still focused on what she needs to say. “i don’t wanna do anything stupid. i don’t wanna rush in, especially not right now when we’ve just kind of, sorta figured some of our stuff out. and i know i brought it up, obviously… but i just…” she realises then that she hasn’t been looking at him and her eyes find his, knowing she’ll find acceptance and kindness there, even though she’s nervous in the seconds before she looks for it. “as much as i want you, i also don’t wanna fuck this up. you mean way too much to me.”

    he means everything to her, she wants to say, but that might be too close to the thing she keeps thinking she should tell him. throwing that statement around when they have so much to figure out still seems like just the same as jumping into bed together, though and that’s enough to stop her from taking the leap. pursing her lips, she shoots him a hopeful smile. “i also think missionary is underrated, with lots of eye contact.”

          all fears are washed away as soon as wes hears the tone of charlotte’s voice. her gentle touch, brushing hairs away from his sweaty forehead is just another way to ease all of his nerves. sometimes wes thinks that she can read her mind, considering the way every time he feels overwhelmed she seems to calm him almost instantly with the smallest of gestures. she does things he’s never even told her will make him feel safe -- things that even he himself didn’t know could put out the fires inside his head. it could be the action, the kindness and consideration put into every touch to unravel him from his spiral, or it could just be charlotte. either way, there is no one out there that seems to know wes’ needs the way that she does. “yeah i...” he starts, but he notices the way charlotte breaks their gaze and begins to focus on something else.

there’s a shockwave of electricity sending rapid fire shivers down wes’ spine as soon as she takes his chin between her fingers and stares him down. his lips part slightly, and he holds her gaze, absolutely mesmerized by what he’s seeing before him. she gets it -- she gets him. there’s no judgement, nor does she even question his desires and she’s already attempting to get into the role that he’s described and wes cannot believe that he’s so lucky. “uh-huh.” he stutters, not daring to break eye contact with her to emphasize how serious he really is. “i trust you. completely.” in every aspect. there’s never once been a situation in which charlotte has broken his trust ( unless wes counts the time she was photographed kissing jordan’s cheek, but now that they’ve reached this point, he’s pretty sure even that was a misunderstanding ), and now that he’s revealed his most shameful wants to her, it feels like the faith he has in her will only continue to grow. his thoughts are distracted by her kiss, sweet and inviting just the way he likes it. he doesn’t feel so scared anymore -- like if she were to ask him more questions he wouldn’t be a blubbering rambling idiot, he might actually be able to get into the details, even though wes doesn’t even know exactly what the details are. 

but when charlotte pulls back, she’s prepared to tell him her own desires and wes is attentively ready to listen. almost immediately, wes finds his lips curling into a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with delight at the thought of charlotte also fantasizing about him going down on her -- and that she thinks he’ll be good at it. he laughs, leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth before she continues. charlotte going down on him has definitely been something he’s thought about, not nearly as much as he’s thought about doing the same for her, but when he has imagined it, it’s exactly as she’s described. slow, teasing... his cock twitches a little in his sweatpants and he kind of hopes that she hasn’t noticed even though he doesn’t think she’d be upset with him. his brows do pull together in a curious thought for a moment at the mention of charlotte not wanting to be rushed, and he wonders if someone has ever made her feel this way before. he can’t fathom the idea of anyone ever trying to pressure someone as wonderful and loving as charlotte into doing something that she doesn’t want to do, and while he wants to ask her if this is just a one-off comment or if it’s something she’s experienced, he decides to put a pin in it while charlotte continues discussing what she’d like.

i haven’t had a lot of enjoyable sex both answers his question and causes him to have a whole new set of them at the same time, but when it comes down to it, wes is not very different. there’s never been a real connection, not like this at least. there’s never been full blown love, although it may be unsaid, or even the slightest semblance of safety with anyone else he’s been with. patiently and quietly, wes waits his turn to speak, soaking up every last idea that charlotte’s giving him in the hopes that maybe after this season break, when the two come together again he can actually put them into action. he nods occasionally, and squeezes her gently from time to time as if to encourage her to go on, but soon it’s his turn to say something, and wes exhales and content sigh. you mean way too much to me will live on repeat in his mind until he sees her again. “i don’t wanna fuck this up either.” he agrees, cupping her face in his hands. “making sure that you’re comfortable, and happy and... satisfied is the most important thing for me.” wes expresses, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “everything you’ve said sounds perfect to me. so let’s take it slow, and keep talking about things and... find out what works for both of us.” the sudden mention of missionary causes wes to laugh a little, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling so hard. “i mean, any excuse to look in your eyes. and i do love the idea of you wrapping your legs around me.” 

         “but um, can i... ask you something?” wes whispers, a little nervous again now that he’s about to take down that pin from a few moments before. “have you been.... rushed in the past?” he dares to ask, his voice wavering a little bit at the prospect of pushing her to talk about something that she may not want to. “i only ask because you mentioned having your...” he frowns, not liking the way she’d put it. “your head shoved down. did someone try to.. pressure you? because i never, ever want to make you feel like you have to do something you don’t want to.” he promises, projecting devotion through his eyes. “like, you could tell me you would only ever wanna kiss me and i’d still be grateful just to be close to you.” 

[violetleaves]

    it’s almost difficult to stay so still, but necessary as grayson blinks and stares back up at the blonde, wondering what on earth she calls this strategy. cajoling him into submission isn’t going to work, at least he thinks it doesn’t and he assumes the alcohol she’s got her hand wrapped tightly around is to blame for her behaviour. he inhales through his mouth, feeling the shakiness all through his body. there’s no one around to catch them, but that doesn’t mean he feels safe doing something like this. he feels so far from safe he can’t believe it.

    grayson spends most of his nights staying late at the campaign office, working hours he definitely shouldn’t for his own peace of mind. the pay is good enough to cover his rent and then some and it seems to satisfy both his roommates that he’s almost never around, though his work schedule has made quick work of his semblance of a social life. maybe that’s why he finds himself regretfully enjoying the ridiculous back and forth with madison, who is one of the people in the office closest to his age but in no way could or would ever want to be his friend. she’s the middle child of his boss and until recently was technically his co-worker, until things went belly up with their social media presence. her replacement isn’t even half as competent, which has made their engagement plummet recently, but senator thorpe seems to be a fairly rigid woman. no matter how much he tried to convince her they could come back from a meme the media took wrong, she doesn’t value his opinion the way she does people with more years in the game than he has. despite his disappointment in madison’s mother for the choice, that doesn’t mean he’s willing to risk his job for some stupid prank she wants to pull. still, he doesn’t quite have the strength to send her out and order a car for her.

    scoffing at her words, he sighs and sits back, putting some distance between them. there’s a temptation to ask for a sip of her drink, but he drove to the office and he can only imagine how that would look, if his car was there overnight. “she’s my boss.” he replies simply to the question of why he’d want to be in senator thorpe’s good graces. this job is his most important position in his career and he hopefully has a long, full one ahead of him. making connections and impressing now will make all the difference later. if he wants to reach the white house, he needs to show that he’s a valuable asset. madison doesn’t factor into that equation, though her words still him as he looks from her bottle to her eyes as she tells him she wants to kiss him. “you don’t mean that.” he replies plainly, shaking his head. he’s reached a logical explanation for all of this now. she doesn’t like him or even really want to kiss him, she’s just grumpy and bitter, toying with him for her own amusement. standing up, he reaches for the bottle so he can take it off her. “you don’t want to kiss me, you’ve just had too much to drink and you’re mad at your mother. we’ve all been there, but you don’t have to get back at your mother for anything. she might let you back onto the team if your replacement keeps being so awful. i’ve been working on it.” it’s a half truth, he just wants to try and… soothe her, though she’s acting like she doesn’t want the woman’s approval. he’s closer to her again, trying to take the bottle completely out of her grip. “you just need to drink some water and i’ll get you an uber.”

      “you don’t know what i want.” madison snaps, pulling back on the bottle to keep it close. “i don’t want to work here again, i never wanted to work for her in the first place. she’s the woooorst.” she presses the bottle against her cheek, the cold glass causing her to shiver a little. madison has always felt that the expectations her mother has upheld for her have been completely unachievable, but working on her campaign felt like she was drowning in responsibility that there was no way she could never live up to. like she’d been setup to fail, even though her downfall was entirely her own, but it was just a fucking joke. “you don’t know how impossible she is. or maybe you do, you work close enough with her to know that stupid tone she uses when she’s disappointed in you.” she rants, unscrewing the cap on the bottle and going to take another swig of it, but grayson snatches it back again, stopping her and she pouts.”hey!” she gently pushes his shoulder and then goes on again: “you’ve only had to deal with that disappointed tone for like, what?” she squints, trying to remember when he’d first started working here, but she’s unable to place the date. “how long have you been working here? like six months? whatever -- i’ve had to deal with that tone for twenty years! and it’s insufferable!” 

he’s right that she needs to drink some water, but going home is out of the question, not when the last thing she said to her mother included the words unlikeable and fucked. “no, no, don’t get me an uber.” she whines, grasping at the collar of his shirt to pull him in closer again. “i can’t go home like this anyway. my mom’s gonna kill me.” madison exaggerates, pleading with him. “can’t we just hang out here?” she asks, her bottom lip jutting out as she attempts to look innocently persuasive. “or... take me home with you?” perfectly curled eyelashes bat at grayson and she flashes her million-watt smile ( or at least, the drunk equivalent of it ). “i promise i won’t put my fingers in your mouth again.” she says, though part of her feels like that might not be true. “next time i do will be ‘cause you asked me to.” 

         “and just to circle back real quick,” she holds up a finger and narrows her eyebrows at him. “maybe i do want to kiss you. come on grayson, don’t you know in vino veritas?” she giggles, her hand raising to run her fingers through her silky blonde hair. “maybe i just don’t have the courage to tell you when i’m sober.” that’s not exactly the case. when she’s sober it’s a lot easier to focus on the things she doesn’t like about grayson, unlike right now as she stares at him, suddenly finding herself fixated on the intricacies of his face. there are so many freckles that she’s never noticed before, or at least never been close enough to notice, and she’s counting each one, her eyes darting around his face before they meet his again and she keeps saying things sober madison never would. “but we don’t have to go back to your place and kiss. we could go and play, i don’t know -- boggle? that seems like some kind of lame game that you’d be really into.” maybe there is a balance after all, because that is the madison that he’s used to around the office, the one who’s always picking on him. maybe now he’ll put the pieces together that it’s because she likes him. but it’s complicated, he loves her mother, and she is indifferent towards her. “come onnnn,” madison continues to beg. “hang out with meee.”

[violetleaves]

    this casual closeness goes further than they have in a long, long time. it’s not even necessarily about the position charlotte has put herself in, perched on his lap so comfortably that she can remember what it used to be like, when it was easier and she was clueless about all the things wes held inside him, suffering all alone. it’s almost like nothing ever happened, but not quite that much. she feels like she knows him better now and she appreciates every second of his cheek pressing into her arm and his fingers hovering over hers, helping to guide her as he teaches her the song. the corner of her mouth lifts in thinly veiled flattery when he explains that every song in the notebook he’s got in front of them is about her. butterflies are running rampant in her stomach and she shakes her head, unsure what to say in response. of course she’s written so many damn songs about him in return, about things that have happened… about things she wished could happen. there are half-finished melodies and verses written in her notes app that he may never even know the existence of. there have been times since they met where lottie has believed somehow that he doesn’t feel as strongly as she does, but this is evidence to the contrary all along and that is both nerve-wracking and thrilling.

    she’s dazzled by the way his hands seem to move so comfortably and she has to fight to focus on playing the notes as he touches her so gently. her eyelids flutter shut as he kisses her shoulder and she has to swallow the lump that forms in her throat. “i’m probably not doing it justice.” she replies bashfully, but then tries to focus harder, preoccupied with impressing him to distract herself from the urge to wrap her arms around him and refuse to let go. the sound of his voice saying her name and his hand urging her to stop draws her attention back in. turning her head, she feels almost dizzy as she looks at him. even more so when he asks what he does. can i please kiss you?

    a question uttered with such tenderness that for a moment she’s stunned, lips parting but no words come out. lottie surpasses the need for answering with words and instead suddenly she’s kissing wes. it’s not an impulse out of frustration, not something brought on by feeling herself pushed this way and that by the things that have happened between them. their relationship is intricate and complicated, but at its very core there’s a simple want: to be as close to wes nichols as fucking possible. the second he told her he wanted things to change, that she made him want it, charlotte has had something new to hold on tightly to. she has a hope, one that she pours into this kiss she shares with him. 

     a small gasp falls from her lips as he scoops an arm underneath her and lifts her up from the piano bench. her arms reflexively reach to wrap around his neck as he guides them over to the bed. her mind seems to blank for a moment, watching as he shifts back on it, making space for her to come right back to him, her knees on either side of his body. it’s a surprisingly comfortable position, despite the fact that they haven’t done this in a while. their lips connect again and there’s a little less innocence in it now, her head tilting to the side as she deepens it. in between breathless kisses she hears him trying to check in and appreciates the gesture, giggling softly as he elaborates, her hands resting comfortably on his chest. “yeah?” she whispers back to him, eyes glittering with amusement.

    “i really like you.” she replies, simply. “i like being able to show you how much i like you… and i like being on top of you.” lottie exhales through her nose and then leans forward to kiss his cheek. now that they’ve thrown the whole imaginary rulebook out and he’s spurring her on with wandering hands, she’s trying to avoid any thought of the fact that they won’t get another moment like this for a long while. when she leans in again, her lips connect with his jaw and they part, another couple open mouthed kisses making their way down, her nose and her lips brush over his neck as she pulls herself closer to him. it’s somehow familiar and yet so different to the way it used to be, with no explanation how that could be possible. there’s an urgency that lottie feels almost embarrassed over, a heat taking over her body and her cheeks flush. her hands shift down towards his torso, though they don’t do anything nefarious. charlotte is just touching, maybe testing her luck as she pulls back and looks wes in the eye again, her lips pink and wet as she leans in on instinct. she doesn’t think she can look at him and not kiss him at this point, but she has to pull back to say what’s on her mind. “wes, when you’re alone…” her eyes remain closed as she speaks, shut tight although their lips are barely an inch apart and he’s not likely to notice how nervous she looks speaking. “what do you think about? what are we doing?” her heart’s beating harder and she’s immediately feeling like she shouldn’t have asked, considering they’ve just barely gotten to a good place after so long forced apart.. although wes is the one who wanted her on top of him. lottie’s experiencing a brainfog of want built up from trailer make out sessions and moments cut short that were so long ago now, so she thinks she has her excuses for her mind being in the gutter. “assuming you think about me, that is… and i hope you do.” she tacks on, lowering her head so she can press her forehead against his shoulder to hide from his reaction.

           moonlight spills in through wes’ bedroom window, casting an inexplicable glow all over charlotte as she peers down at him from above. instantly, his heart rate picks up as soon as she expresses that she really likes him, and while wes thinks it would be crazy to drop the hard l word right now, there’s a part of him that wants to throw all caution to the wind and proclaim: i really love you. not only does wes’ anxiety prevent him from saying so, but as soon as charlotte’s lips begin trailing down his jawline and reach his neck, it’s like his mind has gone absolutely blank. all he can focus on is the softness of her lips against his skin, and his head instinctively tilts slightly to allow her more space to leave her delicate kisses. he feels almost over-stimulated, in all the best ways; the firm weight of her on top of him, the tickling but tantalizing feeling of her neck kisses, her hands exploring over his chest and stomach, and the way he can still hear the song he’s written for her playing on a loop in the back of his head. the way he’d describe the way feels beneath her right now is on fire, and for her he wants to burn, burn, burn. 

wes has been suppressing a moan for a while now -- the heat of everything has him extremely worked up, but there’s a small fear that showing too much enthusiasm may lead charlotte to believe that she has to do more than just shower him with kisses right now. sure, the thrill of getting into something more intimate with her is definitely on his mind, the last thing he wants to do is put any pressure on that happening right now. he wants to move at her pace, because really, deep down, wes doesn’t even think he’s ready for them to do anything further than this without them seriously talking about it first, but he can’t help but whimper softly when charlotte takes her lips away from his skin and moves to stares down at him. she speaks, and the way she says his name elicits yet another whimper, but he manages to overcome all of this overstimulation and pay close attention to what she’s asking. the question is so simple, yet so complex at the same time. it feels like it should be easy to tell charlotte exactly what he imagines, but for some reason it’s the exact opposite -- his mouth has gone dry and he’s completely tongue tied. until she suggests that maybe he doesn’t think of her when he’s alone and buries her face in his shoulder.  “of course i do.” wes smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “sometimes i worry maybe a little too much.” 

            “but um, i guess i, um....” he tries to go on, but the words just won’t come to him. maybe it’s because she’s hiding, and the lack of her eyes on his is hindering his confidence, or maybe it’s because he’s ashamed to admit what he’s into, either way, right now, wes is unable to explain himself. “i think i like... i uh,” he shakes his head and decides it’s confidence that he needs. so he takes his hands out of her back pockets and moves to put his weight on his elbows and shifts them up so that he’s sitting up straight and able to look in her eyes. one hand rests on the small of her back and the other moves to tuck strands of loose hair behind her ear before ultimately cradling her cheek in the palm of his hand. it should be harder this way, now that their eyes are locked, but for some reason  it really is the exact thing to give him that boost of courage. “i... think about doing anything and everything for you. whatever you say, i... i want to do it.” 

         “i know that first night we talked, i said that i didn’t like to be told what to do, and i think it’s pretty clear that i’m really not into controlling relationships but uh, when it comes to this...” wes exhales an embarrassed chuckle, and tightly shuts his eyes in an attempt to avoid seeing charlotte’s reaction. “that’s not exactly the case.” one eye opens, peeking to see what she thinks. his entire body feels white hot, like he said something he wasn’t supposed to say, something that’s going to get him in trouble -- something that’s going to make charlotte change her mind about him. “aaaand you’re the first person i’ve ever actually admitted that to, and i don’t know why but i feel all mortified saying it out loud. like i... never thought i would tell anyone that, but of course if i’m going to tell anybody, it’s gonna be you...” he’s rambling now, filibustering the space so that charlotte can’t shut down what he’s into -- not that he thinks she will, if anything she would gracefully turn him down and he’d still be madly in love, but he’s pathetically scared to find out what she thinks. because to wes, this kink, or whatever it is, is downright humiliating and he can hardly imagine what others might consider it. 

         “and i’ll also add that i really like the idea of going down on you for hours and just like in general treating you like an absolute princess... you are one, and i... you know, you deserve... i wanna treat you like that.” his hand lifts from her cheek, moving to wipe a bead of sweat that has formed on his forehead. he can’t tell if it’s their body heat increasing his temperature that’s causing him to perspire, or the thrill of this conversation that’s heating him up. “i’m sorry, now i feel like i can’t stop talking for some reason. why is it so hard to talk about this kind of stuff?” he covers his face with his hand for a second, wearing an embarrassed smile behind it. “can you please tell me to shut up already and tell me what you like so that i can stop rambling like a nervous wreck?”

[violetleaves]

    the food is packed back away, the possibility of them revisiting their first night hanging out, slips away with it, but so does the game of pretending that things are okay between them. it wasn’t easy to confront the feelings she had swirling in her chest, to actually express all the things she’d been holding back for so damn long. she’s relieved to see that he looks a little more at ease now, holding out his hand so he can lead her to the bedroom as she nods slowly, accepting the offer. it feels a little like whiplash, switching so quickly between her emotions, but she’s seen a wes so painfully open to her that she can’t quite resist staying with him a little longer. there’s a cynical part of her in the back of her brain that’s still sure it’s too good to be true, this sober promise of things changing, but lottie wants to believe it. she wants him to mean it more than anything and she wants him to act on it even more. maybe that’s why she’s still willing to listen to this song and likely have her heart flutter and skip a beat in the process. it doesn’t surprise her that he likes to play his music in the sanctuary of his room. feeling his hand firmly in hers, she follows as he walks her up the stairs, keeping her eyes on him cautiously as they make their way to his bedroom once more. this time feels different, though, it’s not full of uncertainty or with eyes searching for the wes in this house that’s supposed to be his. this time when she sits down on his bed, her eyes only travel around the room for a few seconds before they land on him at the keyboard, watching as he flips open a notebook.

    the mention of the ferris wheel has her raising her brows, wondering what the content of this song will hold, her lips pressing together to not smirk at the idea of him typing up lyrics about her the second he got a chance. “noted.” she replies, punctuating it with a tilt of her head as she waits for him to begin. she can’t pin point the beginning of writing every song she’s written about him, many of them are undated, small pieces of songs that come together later. lottie isn’t messy in most of her life, but in song writing she likes to think of every song as her little frankenstein’s monster. she shifts points of view, shifts moments, jumping back and forth from one to the next and back again. it seems that wes is more particular than her in that regard, something that doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. this is wes, after all.

    as the song opens, she’s dazzled by the easy way his fingers dance over the keys. it comes across like he’s been doing this his whole life, there’s something so natural about his playing ability, but then she hears his soft voice singing out to her and the little sway she’s been doing to his opening pauses as she listens to the lyrics. it’s impossible to not read everything into them, but as he plunges into the chorus, his confidence seems to crescendo and she’s in complete awe. everything she’s ever felt for him comes rushing back. adoration wraps around her heart, making a cushion for how much it has ached over the last few hours. she’s been cautious, even when she wrapped her arms around him and soothed him with her words she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, but his song reminds her. they’ve lit fires within one another. he inspires her to be great, to work hard and develop her talent and she thinks she inspires him too, that she makes him realise something more than what he has right now is entirely possible. she watches his eyes shut tight as he sings and she smiles, longs to walk over and throw her arms around him. it’s not till he’s finally done that she says anything, though her hands come together in an excited, one woman applause.

     “wes, it’s beautiful. i don’t say that for nothing. you’re so… effortless when you play. it’s really, really special. you looked so wrapped up in it, like you loved doing it.” lottie explains, only realising now that she’s blushing a little bit over all of this. she loves her song, but his song is special. or at least, she supposes it’s easier to pile on the praise for him because it’s him. “i loved it. i’ve never… i didn’t know you saw me as so motivating.” she jokes and then, because she just can’t resist, she lifts up off the bed, making her way over to him in slow steps, cautious as she regards him. something in her is feeling bold, recalling the stretch of time that sits between this night together and the next time they’ll see one another. now that they’ve had a real conversation and her feelings are so squarely on the table, she’s doing things she usually wouldn’t. as she gets close, she signals for him to move back a little, helping to push the stool at the keyboard back a little bit too before she slides in beside him and then confidently sits herself on his lap. it almost feels like the old them, the two of them sneaking around and pretending they weren’t possibly going to be serious while spending all their time alone at her house party, getting ridiculously carried away. lottie looks down at him, a coy, hesitant smile on her lips before she focuses her gaze on the keyboard. “show me how to play the first part, please.”

    while waiting for him to indicate where her fingers need to go, tendrils of her hair fall into her face, her gaze flickering over to the notebook he clearly didn’t need when he was playing. “how many songs might i find about me in there?” she asks, indicating to it with her gaze, pleased with her position there above him. maybe she won’t get to see him for a little while, but he won’t forget this day with her, that’s for sure.

           there really isn’t any reason that wes should be nervous to learn what charlotte thinks of his song. this is the woman who’s been a fan of him since she was in middle school, and back then she likely dreamed of a moment like this. deep down, wes knows that she loves it -- probably just much as he loved writing it... but he’s still trembling, palms sweaty as he meets her gaze and asks her what she thinks. as soon as she begins clapping, his cheeks are turning a deep shade of pink, and wearing a bashful smile, he whispers: “thank you.” he’s a little lost for words, focusing on her wide smile and the peach colored blush that’s overcome the majority of her face. at least they’re both turning pink, wes thinks, feeling his face getting hotter by the second as she refers to herself as motivating. “yeah, i...” he starts, but the words get caught in his throat when charlotte rises from her seat at the edge of his bed and begins to slowly move towards him. something has shifted, he can feel it. “i want to change and... and you’ve been the main catalyst for that.” 

at first, wes thinks that she wants to sit beside him, and he slides to the side to provide room on the bench, but she’s gesturing for him to move back and he does as instructed and suddenly -- very unexpectedly, wes has charlotte sitting on his lap again for the first time in what feels like forever. well, maybe since her birthday, a revelation provided by the pictures from the photobooth, but he doesn’t really remember that. this, however he will never forget. wes tries not to get lost in how good she smells, how soft the skin of her arm feels as he presses the side of his face against her shoulder and reaches out to guide her hands to the right notes. a content sigh leaves his lips as their fingers briefly intertwine as he shows her around the keys; she’s getting the hang of the intro, and beginning to get into further chord progressions without much of wes’ help, but he still leaves his hands ghosting above hers. his gaze has been focused on watching her play, but as soon as charlotte asks him a question, his attention is completely taken to look up at her, eyes locked on the chords before her. “in this notebook?” wes reluctantly lifts his hand from atop hers and reaches out to brush the pages of the composition book sitting on the music stand in front of them. “um...” he lets out an awkward laugh, hesitating before confessing this, apprehensive of whether or not charlotte will find this romantic or obsessive, but after a second he finally whispers: “every song in this notebook is about you.” he’s lucky that right beside them on the shelf are dozens of composition notebooks, so maybe she won’t think it’s so crazy that he has one dedicated to only her. 

it’s simply impossible to follow any boundaries right now. he’d keep his hands on the keyboard, but that’s where her fingers are, and now that he’s looked down, his eyes are fixated on the perfect spot on her thigh. one hand rests there, and the other swiftly travels up her arm, his fingertips dancing their way up in a similar manner to the way her own are on the keys. wes swears to himself as he’s tucking her hair behind her ear that he’s doing this to help her and not for an excuse to touch her. but he does linger with his movements, reveling in it, the softness of her earlobe, the silkiness of her curls... wes sighs, leaning a little closer and pressing his lips to her shoulder. “god, i... kind of can’t believe you’re playing my song right now...” and playing it so remarkably. he always knew she was talented but to immediately be able to pick up on the intricacies of his songwriting is rather impressive. 

by the time she’s reached the chorus, wes doesn’t know if he wants to sing it again, softly beside her ear or abruptly stop her all together and profess his love for her. instead, wes does neither -- but he does lift the hand from her thigh to interrupt her playing, slowly reaching forward to take her hand and inspire her to turn to look at him. when she does, it feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “charlotte...” green eyes dart between her own and perfectly supple lips, begging him to experience their softness for the second time today. but he doesn’t think that he possesses that particular boldness, the one that is confident enough to see that this moment surpasses their boundaries and just make the move. he tightens his grip, licks his lips, and decides to ask: “can i please kiss you?”

she gives him his answer by closing the gap -- and for the second time today the two of them are swept up in a passionate, devoted kiss. cradling her cheek in his hand, it feels like wes’ heart is doing cartwheels in his chest. this is not the angry kiss that it was earlier. this is not a sad, last kiss high in the sky, or one lost in a night of drinking  -- this kiss is hopeful, this kiss is a promise. there is love in this kiss, and it doesn’t feel like it’s just on his end. wrapping an arm underneath her knees wes seamlessly lifts her into the air, carrying her off of the piano bench and over to his bed. but wes is not the type to throw her down on the bedding and cover her body with his own. instead he sits down on the bed, allowing himself to get comfortable in the pillows and charltotte to adjust herself to properly straddle his lap again, placing his hands on her hips, wes grips her tightly, kisses her fervently, and thinks to himself: you have got to be fucking dreaming right now. “i um,” wes starts, pulling back to take a breath, “i hope this is okay.” his hands slip back farther to grab her ass, gently slipping his hands into the pockets of her jeans. “i just... i think i really like it when you’re on top of me.” he laughs a little, almost awkwardly, like he’s embarrassed to admit this, even though he knows it’s something that he should share with her. she should know what he likes, considering right now ( and many, many other times before this ) wes can’t stop thinking about what she might like, what he can do to to make her happy. 

[violetleaves]

    it’s not like charlotte wants to cut down this rare stretch of alone time short, not deep down, but she’s overwhelmed and has clearly hit her breaking point. she’s saying things she knows she’ll regret, throwing her feelings at him to provoke rather than to just be honest. this whole day feels like a charade now that everything is out on the table and maybe that’s another reason why she runs, because if she’s going to get her heart broken once again, she’d rather not have him see the pitiful look in her eyes when he does it.

    when he stops her, of course her feet stop moving. she’s rigid, glued to the spot as she sniffs, reaching with her free hand to wipe away a stray angry tear. “wes…” she says his name abruptly, planning to tell him to just let her go, but the sound of his voice suppresses the rush of adrenaline she’s been feeling since she kissed him. her heart seems to slow and the room stops spinning as she reluctantly turns her head, eyes watching him as he pitifully apologises. a shaky breath leaves her as she watches him, brows knitting together and her lips parting, but nothing seems to come out. she’s not sure what to say to him or what to do, that urge to run not completely squashed. seeing him like this, begging her not to go, apologising with everything he has. there’s no facade, no pretend confidence, it’s as raw as she’s ever seen him and what she feels most deeply is empathy. it feels like she’s looking at the boy who maybe once believed that it was better this way, for him to do as his mother decided so he would be safe and successful. he’s never looked so young to her before and she can’t help but think that even if he’s not breaking her heart the usual way, it’s still doing the same thing to her. as he reaches for her other hand she remains reluctant, turning to look at him with a cautious sadness in her eyes.    

    somehow this makes her words more true. i’d pick you over everything. she meant it when she said it and she feels it now, looking at him. she manages to hold herself together for about twenty seconds longer, seeing him begin to spiral, but there’s no more weighing up her options. lottie drops wes’ hands only so she can wrap her arm around his torso, her other hand finding his hair, coaxing him down to hang over her and bury his face in her shoulder despite their size difference. “i’ll stay.” she tells him softly. “i’ll stay for a little bit longer. okay? i still… i actually do have to be out of here at some point, though,” she laughs gently, though she still feels so emotionally drained and shellshocked. on top of never being able to fight off the urge to let him in time and time again, charlotte is scared of leaving him alone like this. it’s enough to make her regret lashing out, even if some part of her knows maybe he needed to hear it. “but for now i’m here. okay? i… i know this is complicated, but i believe you’re trying. i believe you. as long as you try to let me in, i can do that, wes. i just need you to tell me you’re trying, to show me. i don’t wanna be here in the dark and i don’t really wanna play pretend anymore.” she admits, feeling that based on his reaction, he won’t take her words poorly. she can give smaller, kinder doses of truth now, to give him a little because she’s pushed him harder today than she intended to.

    even as she speaks, she doesn’t pull away from him, her eyes barely taking in the room as she holds onto him. one of her hands had been idly running through his dark locks, soothing him as best she can. turning her head towards him, she gives herself permission to kiss his cheek comfortingly. this is lottie at her core: an outpouring of affection, the kind of love that overcomes even her own doubts and setbacks. “i feel like such a wasteful asshole saying this, but um… i’m not really hungry anymore.” she admits softly, her breath tickling his cheek. “what if you played me that song you owe me and we just… sat down together for a little bit, hm?”

    ��    charlotte drops his hands, and for a split second wes thinks that it’s all over. tears are brimming in the corners of his eyes and he’s nearly about to drop down to the floor just like he said he would -- but charlotte doesn’t waste a moment once she realizes that he’s beginning to panic, and returns to giving him the love and affection he’s always needed. he pulls her in close, wrapping his arms around her middle and burying his face in the crook of her neck. the tears finally escape and drip down his cheeks, landing in charlotte’s curls and wes wishes that he could wipe them away but there’s no way he’s moving with charlotte in his arms right now. the sensation of her hand caressing the back of his head, moving gently through his dark locks is a nice touch, and wes sighs, nodding his head slowly at her responses. she’ll stay. she’s not going anywhere... yet. 

         “thank you.” wes whispers, hugging her a little tighter as he speaks. “i promise you’ll see. i promise. things will change...” he inhales a shaky breath, still trembling a little in her arms. “they have to. they will.” the temperature of his body drastically changes when her lips are pressed to his cheek, everything is warm. he knows this is just a comforting gesture, but part of wes wants to turn his head too, meet her in that kiss and seal that promise with his lips. but he doesn’t. he only pulls back slightly and lifts his hand from her waist for only a moment to wipe his damp cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater.

his attention is brought back to the basically untouched food on the counter, and wes cracks half a smile and nods in agreement. “yeah, i don’t think i really have that much of an appetite either.” wes says, quickly moving to secure all of the lids back onto their sushi and store it back into the fridge for later. as soon as it looks like they’d never been eating at the kitchen island to begin with, wes washes his hands and then extends one out towards charlotte. “do you mind if i show you in my bedroom?” he asks, nodding his head up towards the staircase. “it’s the only place i really feel comfortable playing my own stuff.” and with her hand in his, wes takes her back up to his room, and with each step up wes feels himself becoming more and more nervous. performing for charlotte was not something he had expected to do today -- this day was supposed to be about her, and her music, and now he’s about to be more vulnerable with her than ever before. wes has had fantasies of this moment, but those dreams heavily feature an aura of romance, and wes doesn’t really know where they stand right now. five minutes ago she was kissing him, and three minutes ago she was upset with him, and now she’s sitting on his bed and he’s at his keyboard and he’s about to pour his heart out through his piano keys.

          “so, um.” he begins awkwardly, clearing his throat. he flips open one of his notebooks, still looking at her while he gets to the right page. he doesn’t really need it, he’s played this song so many times now he could play it with his eyes closed, but he doesn’t necessarily want to show off. “i wrote this one um... after the ferris wheel. like... immediately after,” he explains, wearing an embarrassed half smile. “like as soon as autumn wasn’t paying attention i was on my phone typing up lyrics.” wes thinks that the backstory is necessary, or at least that she might be curious -- he’s dying to know when she had started composing the song they’d worked on today, though wes is pretty sure that she began writing it the night of the series premiere. 

           “anyway. here it goes.” wes takes a dramatic opening pause, his fingers hovering above keys like he’s debating whether or not he wants to back out at the last second. he does not let the hesitation overtake him though, because the patient, devoted, excited look on charltote’s face is enough for him to let his fingers drop and begin playing the song. wes dances across the keys, he’s breezing through the opening piano solo like it’s one of the classical pieces his mother has engrained in his memory, but the moment he actually has to start singing, he begins quietly, uneasily, his eyes darting from her back to the lyrics he’s written on the page like he’s forgotten his line. he hasn’t though, and as the lyrics approach the chorus, the confidence follows, and before wes knows it, he’s belting out the words. “wild like a dream, ignite my brain. my house is on fire, she’s the kerosene. don’t put me out, don’t put me out -- for her i wanna burn, burn, burn.” his eyelids flutter shut as he continues on singing, but his fingers never once stumble over the keys “set ablaze, won’t lose this feeling. smoke in my lungs, don’t call for help -- in the ashes i’ll find new meaning.” 

three minutes of a love song feels a lot longer when it’s being performed for the very first time in front of the person it’s been written about. wes can’t remember a time where he ever felt like this song would never end -- most of the time he can spend all night with his headphones on playing it over and over again, singing quietly to himself and think for a moment: maybe it needs another verse. but now that he’s finally finishing up the bridge, and moving into the final chorus, wes can’t wait for it to be over already. not because the nerves have returned again, but because he’s desperate to see charlotte’s reaction, to finally open his eyes again and see if she loves it the way he always hoped she would. his fingers fly through the last few keys, his voice fading out along with the sound of the piano, and once he lifts his foot from the sustaining pedal and the music has ceased, wes finally looks back at charlotte and, wearing a shy smile, he asks her: “so... what did you.... what do you think?”