waylon:
There was no greater pain to inflict on Waylon than not just to know Vienna was in pain, but to bear witness to it. Just by the state of her, the man knew the woman had been crying for days, as much was evident in her appearance, and the very sight knocked the wind from his lungs. “Vee…” He’d quickly recover, slapping on a reassuring smile as he accepts her offer to step inside. “You been eating?” The witch cocks a brow, and now satisfied by the answer she hadn’t even began to give, he’s kicking off his shoes by the door, pausing as he lingered in close proximity to the woman for a moment longer.
“How about some grilled cheese and soup, huh?” Waylon offers, hands gripping over his arms as he leans in, lips pressing to her forehead. “I’ll stay awhile.” The man promises softly, letting that half-embrace linger for a moment as he stared into her eyes, as if assessing that she’d been up to nothing more than sobbing upon her sofa since he’d brought her home post-apocalyptic event. In the cool confines of her apartment, Waylon helps himself to the pantry and kitchen, gathering the necessary supplies to provide her with a sub-par meal made with love.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He’d state readily and with a faint smile. “You know you kiss a guy and you ignore him… Not very promising.” Waylon laughs it off, as if it hadn’t stirred panic in his heart. Instead he clatters around for a pan, turning on the gas stove. As he shifts to rummage for cheese and butter within the fridge, he considers his next words carefully. “I know there’s a lot more going on than just that. What you - we went through…” Waylon wouldn’t delve into the horrors that had unfolded on his way to her, only that’d he do it all over again, for a lifetime and then some, to ensure she was safe.
“It’s okay you haven’t bounced back. I just wish you’d talk to me about how you’re feeling. We’ll always be friends.” The man promises, dropping a piece of butter into the pan and watching it slowly melt. And wasn’t that what this was between them? A slow burn? God, how fucking slow was it going to be? “I guess I shouldn’t have…” He gesticulates idly. “You just want to be friends. You have Gabe. I’m sorry.” He smiles meekly. “It was the heat of the moment.”
Waylon had quickly accepted her offer to step inside, and Vee shut the door behind him. From here, there was no hiding anything from the man. Her expression, her stature- all of these things were easily discernable- especially by someone who knew her so well. "Of course I have." She lied, the soft roll of her eyes surely giving her away. "But..." Vienna rocked gently on her heels, fingers twisting together at her waist. "I am not opposed to some catering." She did her best to keep from leaning into the man's embrace, though she wanted nothing more than to absorb what comfort he had to offer. Hazy eyes soon adverted to the floor, and the woman brushed a stubborn hair from her face before she treaded back across the creaky floor into her living room. From her place in the center of the couch, she had an easy view of the kitchen. Vienna's apartment was cozy, with an open concept living space (though her bedroom was tucked away). "Maybe I have been." She admitted, readily, knees pulled tight against her chest while curious pools watched Waylon cook. "I was afraid—" A groan catches in her throat because there are so many things that teeter along the tip of her tongue. Vee breathes, heat rising in her cheeks. "That you'd be upset with me." Not entirely untrue. With her chin pressed to her knees, Vienna watched Waylon closely; cerulean pools trained on his every movement. She can smell the butter starting to simmer in the pan. The sound of the sizzle is unsuccessful in distracting her. The woman's heart aches. Her soul. All of these secrets and half-truths between her and the people she cared about are at the forefront of her mind. She can't stop thinking about how close she'd come to dying, no matter how hard she tried. Now she's grappling with the aftermath, and how exactly she's supposed to process all of these... Feelings. She's not coping very well.
Vee can feel the warmth of fresh tears threaten the corners of her eyes. "Can you just... Just stop saying things like that?" The words sprung loose with more snap than she'd intended, "You don't always have to be so understanding." Vienna is deflecting, hard, though she feels powerless against it. "Doesn't anything ever bother you?" Bright hair falls freely around her legs as she allowed her head to fall, forehead pressed to her knees. “How can you just be... okay?” She’d whisper, unsure if he’d heard her or not.














