Elizabeth

In Her Attic

In her attic, Elizabeth was very much enjoying staring at the ceiling. So much so, in fact, that she was almost disappointed when Wesley burst through the door, panting.

Almost. But not quite.

"I've come to convince you that you were not wrong about me, that I would never use your own principles against you, and that I love you quite a lot," he said by way of explanation. There was an awkward pause before he continued. "I wasn't planning on telling you this, but since you seem unsure about what to do next, you may want to use the example of how you responded when I imagined it in my head on the way over here.

"'I love you quite a lot too, Wesley,' and then you got off of your bed and ran towards me and kissed me properly on the mouth, and then you continued, 'In fact, I think I may love you more than you love me.' And then I said, 'Impossible. I love you to infinity,' and you said, 'Yes. I love you an impossible amount.' And then we kissed again, this time for longer, and floated up into the air and lived happily ever after. Not in that exact spot, of course, but in general, I mean," Wesley said very quickly.

"Um," Elizabeth said slowly, processing this. Yes, it had been desperate, needy, and, to a degree, creepy, but something about it was just so endearing. It was adorably awkward, and raw, and truthful; and, in all honesty, if Elizabeth hadn't been so stubborn, she would have done pretty much exactly what he'd just described.

Unfortunately, though, Elizabeth was very, very stubborn. So instead, she just said, "I'm stilled owed a proper explanation. Try not to be too insulted if I want to find out about your unreasonably attractive former fiancée who still seems to be very interested in you and in whom you still seem to be very interested before I profess my undying love to you."

"I didn't say you had to profess your undying love," he countered. "You just had to say you loved me an impossible amount, even if only in the moment."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Yes, yes I am. Anyways, the situation with Carolina is... complicated," he began. Elizabeth's jaw dropped. Either she'd been exactly right about the nature of his relationship with her, it was even worse than she'd assumed, or his choice of words betrayed a stupidity Elizabeth hadn't previously known it was possible for any human to possess.

"Sorry, wrong word," he said quickly, wincing. "Should I start from the beginning?"

"Better than stuttering about the middle," she replied dryly. He nodded vigorously.

"Yes, that's a good idea. Alright, then," he said, clearly trying to buy himself time. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Did he even know what had happened?

"Carolina and I met about year ago. My mother, before she was murdered, was very good friends with Giselle, so they had us meet each other-"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Elizabeth asked, feeling sick. In all of the drama she'd completely forgotten that Liliana had died, and that Wesley didn't know how or why. In an instant all of the anger she felt towards him melted, replaced by a deep desire to comfort him.

"Our mothers introduced us to one another," he repeated sounding confused.

"No, about your mother being murdered."

"Oh, yes. I found her body yesterday morning," Wesley said without a hint of emotion in his voice. He must be in shock, Elizabeth realized.

"She wasn't murdered, Wesley," she said gently. "When I was at your house two nights ago, I heard sobbing in the next room. That was why I left you while you slept. I saw her holding a knife. I tried to comfort her, I really did, but I couldn't. She took her own life. I'm so, so sorry Wesley." Now Elizabeth broke down sobbing, and he came over to her bed and sat down next to her, taking her in his strong, warm arms.