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@wesratcliffe-archive
Dear WDA Admin and members,
I just heard about what happened and I’m so so sorry. If there’s anything that I can do at all, just ask.
I’m here to offer hugs and Wesley is here to reluctantly accept them with only minor complaining. You can message me on here, or if you want to get in contact with me sooner send me a message and I’ll give you my skype name.
I love you guys!! ❤️
trying to decide on a new icon for wes help
Darcy frowned at his forwardness, amused slightly by his response, but more deterred than anything. “That’s…uhmm…that’s a wonderful books. I uhh, I’m sorry to bother you.” She mumbled, smoothing her hair back, fidgeting uncomfortably.
Wesley hummed noncommittally at her apology. He tried to force his attention on to the story, but he hardly made it through a sentence before his mind distracted him. Thoughts were a dangerous thing, and if he let himself fall down that void he was sure to only come out the other end drunk and miserable. With a quiet, frustrated huff, he let the novel fall into his lap, finally paying attention to Darcy again. He took in her shuffling, her uncomfortable expression, the frown that had etched itself onto her face. “It’s fine–” he said, surprised at his own voice. Damn tongue, speaking without his okay. “I was...having trouble focusing anyway.”
your resident angst trash is leaving to eat dinner goodbye
Em had a hard time hearing those words, but after all the things his mother did, he couldn’t help but believe he deserved them. He already was risking too much with Camille saying she loved him. How could he really hope that Wes and others would do the same? It didn’t stop him from carefully wrapping his hand around Wesley’s arm, refusing to let the other leave. “Fine… but can we at least share this drink? It would be a shame to waste prime alcohol,” he responded, the words sounding hollow in his voice.
Wesley’s arm flickered, turning intangible so he could rip it out of Emmett’s grip. “Why?” his voice cracked and his eyes betrayed his emotions. “Why are you trying to reach out? Why are you trying to be my fucking friend I–” I left. I abandoned you. I don’t deserve kindness. I don’t deserve friendship. I hurt everyone. I ran away. I’m a coward. Wesley averted his gaze and it fell to the two glasses on the table. He picked one up and downed the drink in a gulp, remembering all the times he’d reprimanded others for doing the same — Scotch was meant to be savored, not shotgunned. You’re wasting a perfectly good drink by downing it so quickly. He pushed the memories aside and set the empty glass back on the table. His gaze flickered back to Emmett and he averted it quickly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants. He wanted to apologize, wanted to tell Emmett everything, wanted to tell him to take care, wanted to thank him for being his friend; all that came out was, “I’ve got reading to do...”
The feeling that maybe she should just leave intensified tenfold, at the ice cold look he gave her. It wasn’t like she’d expected differently - but expecting it didn’t stop her from feeling rather alarmed. The easiest - best - thing to do would be to get out of his hair, she knew that… but never one to take the easy route, her worrying over him won out. “You don’t seem fine,” tentative, she wasn’t really sure what to say, “I mean… you don’t give off the vibe of someone who’s fine. I- not that I’m prying, I’m just wondering if you’d maybe like some company?”
With each gentle, unsure word that reached his ears, Wesley felt his guilt grow and grow. She thinks you’re mad at her. He clenched his jaw. It’s better that way, then she’ll get pissed and hate you like she should. He hated treating his friends this way, so why the fuck was he doing it? He opened his mouth to apologize, eyes reflecting everything he felt for the briefest moment... “I–” You don’t deserve forgiveness. His mouth snapped shut, his eyes returned to ice. “Rylie just...go away.” His voice had lost its sharp edge, now it just sounded tired.
Hunter’s eyes widen as he turns his head to face the person standing next to him, “Did you need something?” he asks quietly, his voice cracking. Since his arrival he’s tried his best to remain unseen so someone talking to him is a bit unnerving.
Wesley recognized the fear and nervousness in the other’s voice and posture in an instant. He frowned, eyeing the younger boy briefly. “Relax, kid." He held up a piece of paper. "You dropped this."
“Not to say I’m judging them or anything but who would leave a poo emoji plushy just laying around? Like look at this thing.”
Wesley frowned and raised an eyebrow, glancing from the girl to the plushy in her hands. “Who would even buy the damn thing?”
“You were the one that started this conversation. I just sat down,” Ash said, shrugging.
“And I’m regretting it with each passing second,” Wesley retorted, attempting to bury himself in literature. “Now go away.”
“See, I think that too, but I have been known for this stupid habit of doing things that aren’t good ideas. I would think my best friend would know this by now, but… then again, I haven’t seen him in months and vice versa, so we might not be best friends any longer,” Emmett replied, pouring the drinks all the same.
Wesley felt a sharp pang. It jolted through him like a shock of electricity and settled itself in his heart, tearing it apart in the process. He didn’t know what to feel — Guilty, for leaving without saying why. Angry, for all the stupid shit he’d done. Sad, because he knew he didn’t deserve Emmett’s unwavering loyalty. Happy, because by some miracle he still had it. — but Wesley did know he had to get out of there before his resolve cracked. He stood up abruptly, book snapping shut and gaze averted to his feet. “You’re not my best friend, Emmett,” he said, tone void of emotion entirely. The words hurt him as they fell from his lips, and with each one the icy wall around his heart grew and grew.
“Well, I don’t know you, so I would be super shocked if you gave a crap about me,” Ash said.
Wesley’s gaze flickered up from his book. He arched an eyebrow, frowned briefly and returned to his reading — aka burying his nose in a book so he had a legitimate excuse to ignore people. “Let’s keep it that way,” he snarked, turning to the next page of his novel.
Raleigh raises an eyebrow as he eyes the male sitting in front of him, “My apologies Mr. Ratcliffe,” he muses as he folds his arms across his chest. “I noticed that you were signed up for one of my classes, and I wanted to check if you had kept up with your studies while you were away,”he explains.
Wesley looked up at the teacher briefly before he returned to his reading. “Well, Professor Jones, I can’t say that I had the time.”
“I was actually talking to Salem.” Bailey retorted, the corners of her mouth flicking up slightly, an amused glint in her eyes.
The brown and black shepherd wriggled and whined happily as she reunited with Bailey. Damn dog... Wesley scowled, wishing that he could simply disappear. He longed for Bailey’s kindness and friendship, but each time an apology for disappearing was poised on his tongue the same words echoed in his mind. You don’t deserve friendship and forgiveness. His tired eyes had been staring at the same page for three minute while the sounds of his happy dog tempted him to join in the fun, smiles and laughter. No. He snapped the book closed with a sharp thud and rose so quickly from his seat that it squeaked and slid across the floor. “As heartwarming as this was, I really should be going.”
“That’s not really very kind, is it? I mean- personally, I didn’t know you, but I’m sure if I were someone you did know, you would probably miss them at least a little, right?”
Wesley looked up at Adara with an icy glare. “No,” he lied, voice unwavering and as unemotional as possible.
“Is it because I’m literally your favorite person ever?” Darcy grinned at Wesley, looking down at his book, “What are you reading, actually?”
A scowl graced Wesley’s face as he looked up at Darcy. “No,” he replied tone flat and unamused. He held up the cover of his book. The cover read Wuthering Heights and was worn and clearly well-read. “Any other questions?
“I don’t think you missed me. I mean, we hardly know each other, so it would be a little weird if you did. Flattering, but odd.”
“Well, at least we’re on the same page.”
“I didn’t– Um. I– Um. I didn’t say I missed you. I mean, I’ve seen you around before but we’ve never talked and I just– … I said your friends probably missed you.”
Wesley glanced up at the girl with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t recognize her. “Hmm...” he hummed thoughtfully, turning his attention back to his book. “Unlikely.”
