wesley-kelley:
( @aydencross )
Amazingly enough, Wes had forgotten. the three liters of alcohol he’d stashed away for later. He’d filled up a couple plastic bottles with the odds and ends of different whiskeys all the way back from that hotel bar. He’s glad he’d scrounged together stuff – glass bottles would not have survived the carnage. So he did, admittedly, start sipping at it alone before he hatched a little plan.
He’d grabbed plastic children’s mugs ( they were dust free, hidden because they were so damn hideous with off-brand cartoon characters plastered over them ) and began exploring the garden seating. He’d dragged over a bean bag, let loose a whole shelf full of them. He’d even began setting up a swing chair before he realizes he’s not having as much fun as he oughta be having. Maybe it’s because he’s trying to follow some instructions to build a chair. Wes knocks back the last of his whiskey, takes the other plastic mug from the packaging and fills it up a hearty amount. He knows who is missing from this bit of fun.
It takes a lil bit of time to find them but when he finds her he grins, calling out to the back of her head, “Ayden!” When she turns, he stops, holds the two mugs out like he’s won a fucking prize and ready to share his spoils, “I’m pretty fucken certain I still owe you a drink, honey.” Ayden can’t protest because he’s putting the plastic mug of whiskey in her hand and if she doesn’t take it, it’s meeting the floor.
“C’mon, I found a shit loada beanbags!” He walks ahead, knocking back more of the drink, hoping she’ll follow.
Normality was a strange thing to strive for at times like these, especially when her life had been far from typical even before hell had decided to open up its gates. Except even then she’d had a routine, a structure to carry out her day with, and Ayden found herself missing the little things more than she’d ever expected. Perhaps that was why whenever she found a free moment, she almost inevitably found herself cleaning her guns even if it felt like it was straying into monotonous territory.
Except a voice breaks her out of it and the hunter finds herself grinning in anticipation even before she turns to face the man that she knows is behind her. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to remind you.” The words might have been chiding but the smile on her lips makes it perfectly clear that there’s no real meaning behind them other than to tease lightly.
With enthusiasm that’s all too infectious, the blond places a mug of something in her hand and it’s something she wouldn’t have had the heart to decline even if she hadn’t wanted the alcohol that it contained. Taking a sip, she hums in approval at the choice of liquor before turning the mug this way and that trying to figure out what on earth was on it with little success. “Nice choice, though I don’t think I recognise the character on it and I figure that’s not just because we never used to watch tv.”
The decision to follow him was an easy one and she quickly falls into step behind him as they wind their way through the aisles until coming to a halt in front of a cosy looking pile of bean bag and what seems to be something half assembled. “Quite a set up you’ve got here, honey.”














