Authors Note: I feel super bad that i haven't had time to update, but my exams will be coming up and over very soon so I can finish this story! For the time being, enjoy this little flashback from the day Alice pulled Wesley out of the prison for murdering someone. It is a continuation of the flashback from a couple chapters ago and since Holbrook got their story, I thought i should share a bit of Wesley's past with guys. I won't be able to post often after this until the mid of november so have fun!!!
Regards
Evilynice
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He is everything I thought he wouldn’t be.
He is the epitome of gentle. He doesn’t raise a finger to the guards and break lose. He doesn’t speak up.
He doesn’t.
And I don’t know what I expected but it was not him.
I want to pivot around and walk out of these prison door and pretend that I never wanted revenge. That I never wanted to rebel against everything I stood for.
But it is done.
The papers are signed.
And he is out.
And I guess he is mine now.
And I can’t say it doesn’t nerve me to know he knows of manipulative capabilities. That he accepts them.
“Have you got all you things?” I say, crossing my arms as he comes out of his holding cell with absolutely nothing in his hands. He doesn’t meet my eyes but he nods once.
A small nod. Just once.
And I think I am going to speak up and question him about his empty hands but I don’t.
I understand.
I understand silence.
He has one of those charming smiles even though I know it hasn’t been turned on because of the straight line his mouth makes. Soft, light, brown hair sits perfectly on his head. Like he has spent collected moments to devote his time to frame himself into perfection.
And eyes.
Eyes I have seen before.
His brother, Ezra, owns them, but not the way Wesley morphs them.
His eyes are agony and love at the same time and I am trying my best to fathom this but the words are gone, the formula is nonexistent and the picture is missing.
He is beauty made agony.
I pause for half a second before I uncross my arms and slide my hand into his. He flinches but I hold his hand firmly and turn and walk out the prison door, dragging him behind me.
“My fami-“ he begins. He is so unbearably naïve.
I can’t stand it.
Once we are outside I turn around abruptly to face him. “No. There is no Family. Not for you, not for me. And though I have absolutely no interest about the topic of your fragile family life, you need to hear this. They aren’t coming for you and they never will. From now, you aren’t associated with them and for a matter of fact, you are stuck with me right now. Let that be the end all and be all, okay?
I sigh. He is staring at our hands. He slips his hand out and looks away from me.
“I don’t know who you are,” he whispers.
I sigh, my eyes scanning around the parking lot. “That’s clearly not the most important thing right now. I know, we don’t know each other wel-“
I am cut off by Wesley with eyes of black orbs, “I killed a person.”
I am momentarily stunned.
I swallow,” I know.”
He is looking at me curiously, “You want me for something, do you not?”
I nod slightly, narrowing my eyes, “Perhaps.”
“You are choosing a murderer?” Wesley says.
I swallow again, sweat breaking out on my forehead. I check my phone. No missed called from Holbrook. I am safe for now.
“No. I am giving some freedom. And besides, I’m sure there is more than meets the eye,” I say back.
He looks at me.
Time folds into its self and walks by, waving off into the distance.
“Why do I feel like I haven’t left prison?”
He is the one that says that.
He is staring at me and he says that.
I should be offended. I should be mad. But the only thing I say is,
“If you feel like that why are you still here?”
His eyes twitched. He is amused.” Someone’s company is better than none,” he says.
I am back business:
“Well, lets get this straight. If someone’s asks: you don’t know me, you are not Wesley Fitzgerald and you are definitely not a murder, capuche?” I say like I’m a mother scolding their children.
He smiles slightly, “I like you.”
I don’t know why he finds me of such amusement.
“Well, if I didn’t like you, you wouldn’t be here,” I smirk back.
He is still staring at me, but it isn’t the intensity as it was before. It is a soft sort of acceptance, but it is still hesitant.
I point to my car and we walk to it. He pulls himself into the passenger seat and I pull myself into the drivers.
“Why are you not terrified?” he whispers as I start the car.
I laugh a small dry laugh and smile at him.
“Because I’ve killed people before, just not the way you have.”
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*If you see this comment if you are team Wesley/Holbrook or just Alice by herself!