it’s been at least 5 days since wesley has left his apartment and even longer since he’s had a proper conversation with anyone. well, mina counted for some of that interaction but it wasn’t a large part. mostly he’s been staring at a tv and trying not to think about literally anything that has happened in past 40 ish days. though in the big picture of things, jason was better off with …whatever took him then with wes right now. his phone continues to buzz and ding day after day. wesley thinks that he might as well just break the stupid thing, he’s already been fired from his job, who else needs to contact him?
he’s nursing a stupid fucking blood bag that mina gave him. poured it into a cup and sipping it through a straw like its juice. in the window above his sink in the kitchen he can see his reflection and he scowls. wesley would’ve never let himself get to this point. human wesley would’ve never in fact. his hair is slightly greasy and disheveled with how many times he’s run his fingers through it and sighed. dark circles under his eyes because lord above knows that he hasn’t slept properly in what feels like ages. and his eyes, crimson red eyes. they almost seem to glow under the light, like an animals eyes. mina said that they would go away but for now he’d have to wear contacts. wesley thinks he’s probably never gonna leave his home, just look at his roots. something so simple that he could control, hes got at least 3 inches of dark root growth and he curls his lip at it– until the sudden banging and shouting at his door pulls him away from his thoughts.
wesley furrows his eyebrows for a moment and then widens his eyes. it’s sage, holy fucking shit it’s sage. not that wesley really meant to disappear off of the face of the earth, things just happened. and clearly sage was not really too pleased about getting ghosted. though, wesley doesn’t really blame him after all. he literally just stopped responding to him. wesley didn’t even know how many times that sage had tried to contact him, but he can assume it was a lot. or at least enough for sage to actually show up at his place. which was probably not good, considering everything that had happened. but it’s okay, he can just…cut it off right? right?
he’s got blood on the counter and that’s fine. he can practice some self control with the fae. not that he really thought about sage being fae before he had explained the ordeal with jason. but, there was a reason his son was no longer with him… could he resist this urge with sage? he took a deep breath, “i’m coming!” and walked to open the door. when he opens it, sage looks rightfully pissed and wesley looks like he’s seen a ghost. not sure if it’s because he doesn’t really know how to deal with the smells that he’s getting from sage’s blood or the fact that his kinda almost boyfriend is at the door.
all rehearsed words evaporate off the tip of sage’s tongue as his brain works to register the visual cues before him. wes looks awful -- not in features (never, that) but in the pallor of his skin, the sleepless bruising under his eyes and the grease-darkened state of his overgrown hair. sage would never say his type was ‘immaculately manicured’, preferring men a bit more rugged than tame, but it’s clear from first glance that wes hasn’t even been engaging in the most basic of self care. worse than all of that, though, are his eyes. gone is warm honey brown, replaced by a devillish and striking shade of red. he looks away quickly. the fae may lack common sense but he’s not stupid. he knows what it means and it makes his stomach lurch. vampire.
fae blood tastes sweet to vampires, sage remembers reading somewhere. while it lacks the potency and addictive qualities of witch’s blood, there’s still magic running through his veins. he takes a few steps back. his next thought is worry for jason. while he’d been introduced to sage as something not-quite-human, with wes not fully understanding the fae world he’d stumbled upon, it wasn’t hard for sage to connect the dots. half fae was probably still in danger. he was in danger. he manages another half step into the hallway.
every other instinct, however, urges him to move forwards instead of back. he’s missed wes and seeing him now, seeing him visually unwell and not himself, sends waves of sympathy washing over sage’s initial feelings of fear. the angry set of his brow lightens and his lips downturn in more of a pout than a frown. it’s not at all what he’s expecting and although he’s definitely supposed to be getting as far away from this situation as possible, he’s going to see it through, like he intended in the first place. determined not to draw attention to the obvious -- nor to the way he’s put distance between the two of them -- sage stubbornly lifts his chin until they meet gazes again.
“so, things are different now, huh?” he claps a hand around his own wrist, arms half folded in front of himself. it stings to speak; his voice sounds hollow to his own ears. it may not have been much yet, but he misses what they had. he misses what they could have been. “is -- i mean -- i’ve been texting and texting and....” mind scrambles to piece together even some semblance of normalcy, to get out whatever speech he’d been practicing. “can i come in?” leaves his lips instead and, okay. maybe he is stupid.
