hearts that beat underneath [wesley]

[elsie]

Elsie had never particularly cared about how she looked to other people. That wasn’t to say that she dressed like a slob and put no effort into her appearance whatsoever. The mere thought of that was absurd. The thing was, she never really dressed up for anyone before. Sure, she’d had boyfriends before and she wanted to look nice for them, but she never fretted over the way she looked in the mirror. She simply put on clothes she thought were nice, and just hoped that whoever she was with thought the same thing. Never before had she searched through her closet to find something that someone else might like without the thought of how she felt in that particular outfit. Yet that morning when she had gotten dressed, she’d struggled over what to wear in case she ran into a certain someone throughout the day. Sure, she wouldn’t run into that someone-- the man she had met on the bus, Brodie, in particular-- at school. He wasn’t exactly in school anymore, seeing as he was several years older than her. But after school? There was that chance. She was allowed to roam around the world, or at least Capeside, and maybe even run into him.

As she wandered around the grocery store, she felt crazy. Not because she wanted him to like her-- no, it was her mission to give her a chance-- but because she thought that ‘fixing’ herself might help her along the way. She liked who she was and how she looked. She tried to ignore the inner girly girl that blushed at the thought of Brodie and tried to focus on her original train of thought. Cookies. She was going to make the grown man a delicious batch of the best chocolate chip cookies that he’d ever taste. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, right? It better be, otherwise Elsie would just eat all of the cookies for herself, and that wasn’t very healthy. She held her basket which was getting progressively more and more heavy as she wandered throughout the aisles. It was somewhat strange to her that there weren’t that many baking ingredients in her house, so she found herself attempting to locate eggs, flour, baking powder, chocolate chips, and a few other things. She took her sweet time, having nothing else to do for the evening, and by the time she got to the checkout, she was glad that she wasn’t in a rush.

As in, really glad. The lines at every single cash register had several people each, and it seemed that most people had rather large cartloads of things. And of course the express lane was twice as long as all the other lines, sort of canceling out the ‘express’ part of it all. Sighing, she lined up behind some tall guy and was quiet for a moment. ‘A’ moment being the key part of the sentence. For Elsie Porter, staying quiet for too long was like plucking out every single hair on your leg: awkward, uncomfortable, and even rather painful. She was just naturally chatty and to her it was quite unnatural to be silent. And rather boring. Looking at the back of the head in front of her, she easily deduced that this man must have been older than her, but younger than her parents. Either that or he held his age quite well. She tapped him on the shoulder and had a smiled prepared on her face for if he decided to turn around. ”Excuse me,” she said sweetly, feeling the need to talk to the poor guy who probably just wanted to eat whatever it was he was buying. ”Question for you, if you don’t mind me asking, kind sir,” she said. ‘Kind sir’ was oddly one of her favourite things to say; no one was that polite in every day conversation anymore. She felt like it was her duty to bring back the ways of manners and respectability. ”Hypothetically speaking,” she said, not waiting for him to really respond, ”If you were to meet a girl who was clearly younger than you but also had a definite interest in you, would you at least be willing to give her a chance? I mean, I assume you’re old. You’re old, right? Not in the bad, ‘look at me I’m wrinkly and my nuts hang to the floor now’ type old, but just the older than me type old,” she rambled on.

words: 761 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: failstarterD:

[wesley]

Wesley could not reiterate enough how much he hated the grocery store. While Capesidw was more familiar to him as of late, the store was still like a foreign country, and none of the natives were friendly. And yet, despite his hatred of the place, he once again found himself battling through hostile territory. At least this was going to be a quick mission… hopefully. Get in; get out; don’t die in the process… or get roped into all the free samples. Even as he considered this, he began to think about all the ways that one could die in a supermarket. Falling items, rabid customers… the list really was endless. It was something he really didn’t care to explore that much. If he ever went for a doctorate, maybe he’d make that his dissertation: How Grocery Stores Can Kill You.

To the normal person, however, this trip really wouldn’t seem all that bad. Compared to, say, a mother of five trying to shop for a week’s worth of groceries… his trip was a walk in the park. All he needed today was some coffee and a bottle of whiskey. It really couldn’t get much simpler than that. Unless, of course, you’re Wesley. Then you would find yourself lost in the mustard aisle—contemplating the fact that there actually is a mustard aisle, and searching for coffee grounds. At least the booze was easy for him; he practically smelled it as he walked in the door. Grocery stores were good that way, he’d give them that. They offer you fresh produce and alcohol almost always right inside the door, and save the less used stuff for the back aisles. Apparently, coffee was a less used aisle. In his mind, it should’ve been right next to the alcohol, since he never really had one without the other. Assuming there were other people out there like him, it’d make sense to rearrange the store accordingly. Maybe next time he’d give them the suggestion.

Wandering a few more aisles, the smell of coffee finally greeted him and, with it, so did the end of his trip. Now, all that was left was the check out. This was his favorite part… minus the part where he had to fork over the cash. But he got his purchase and he got to say hi to someone. For Wesley, socialization always seemed the main focus behind most of his actions; minus the risk that fueled his other ones. But when he went drinking, the only reason he didn’t do it by himself at home (aside from the obvious depression that comes with that) was because he got to meet new people. The only way the grocery store was bearable was because there was a cashier waiting at the end to check him out… in a purely professional way. It was one reason he never liked the self-check outs.

One thing he didn’t usually expect was to be greeted in the check-out lane by the person behind him. But, as Wesley awkwardly shifted his position to find a more comfortable way of standing, ignoring the mild pain in his shoulder, he felt someone poke at his back. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he glanced over his shoulder as she offered an ‘excuse me’ before continuing what she obviously wanted to say. As she asked, rather politely, if she could ask him a question, he responded with a “Um… sure, what can I do for you, ma’am?” Or, rather, he would’ve replied with that if she’d given him enough time too. He’d barely gotten three words out before she was already posing her question. A question that was, from the beginning, rather confusing. Wesley wasn’t well versed in the use of hypothetical’s, but he was fairly certain that, when someone used them, they were referring to themselves. So, either this girl had just fallen in love with him, or she really was just asking a random question… to a random stranger.

Somehow, neither one seemed all that promising. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to flirt or looking for advice. And what was she? Twelve. He was friendly and all, but this was somewhat concerning.

“Uh… I don’t think I understand you quite right.” Wesley paused, raising an eyebrow slightly as confusion showed plainly on his face. “I really don’t know if you’re trying to ask me out for coffee or if you’ve just never heard of Stranger Danger and you’re seriously asking for help.” Confusion was certainly a main component here.

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[elsie]

Whiskey and coffee. Was it weird that Elsie felt like she had stumbled upon just the right person to ask her questions to? She also had to admit that it felt a little odd to know that solely based on what he was cradling in his arms, but from the slightly alcoholic scent that washed off Brodie and his seeming need for coffee in the morning, she couldn’t help but think the two men were kindred spirits, even if she didn’t know all that much about either of them. She knew a little bit about Brodie and considerably less about the mystery man in the grocery store. All she knew about the one in front of her was that he was the type of guy to buy booze from a grocery store. It wasn’t like he even tried to hide it amongst a cart load of other things. It was definitely the reason he came in. Not that Elsie was judging; she rarely actually judged. She was merely making an observation. She was very observant, that was for sure. Although, she might have been observant, she often only chose to worry about the things she wanted to worry about. So while this man might have had all the warning signs of some coffee obsessed alcoholic, that wasn’t what she wanted to talk to him about.

She wanted to talk to him about Brodie, the older man who had been on her mind every single second since she’d met him. Was it really Elsie’s fault that he just had such pretty eyes? No, no it was not; it was nature’s fault for taunting her with such a delicious piece of man and make him so grumpy at the same time. She supposed it made sense; after all, one couldn’t have such an attractive man have a sparkling personality at first, otherwise he would just be too perfect of a creature and be nonexistent. But Elsie had to admit that she couldn’t wait until she wore down Brodie’s harsh exterior. First she needed to know how. Elsie tilted her head to the side slightly and looked at him with a tiny bit of confusion. ”What don’t you understand?” she asked curiously. ”I’d be happy to clarify, though I thought it was pretty clear to begin with. Oh well, maybe it’s all in my head. You know, when you say something out loud only to realise that it only ever made sense in your head? That happens to me a lot.” Elsie sighed and frowned down at her lacy ballet flats. It would be much easier if everything she said made sense to everyone. Unfortunately life was not that fair, now was it? Not a problem, she didn’t mind explaining herself to the stranger.

It wasn’t until he spoke again that she realised he really was confused. ”I’m not asking you for coffee and I don’t believe in Stranger Danger though my mother kept trying to get me to believe it as a child. Haven’t the slightest clue why; how are you supposed to meet people if you think everyone is going to hurt you? That’s not a very good lesson to teach your child.” Elsie shook her head and adjusted the purse that hung from her shoulder. Ha, he wanted to go on a date with her. How cute. Silly man, she was already preoccupied with another. She hoped he wouldn’t be too heart broken when she began to ask about what she was supposed to do. ”See, there’s this guy, Brodie, and I met him on a bus and then stayed over at his house because there was this storm and he couldn’t call a cab. He’s very grumpy. Very, very grumpy and not very conversational, but I feel like it’s all just a front and deep down he could be a very nice guy. And my god, he is handsome. Seriously, he was one of the most attractive men I have ever seen in my entire life,” she rambled on, giving the mystery man more information than he probably cared to know. Hell, he probably didn’t want to be in this conversation right now.

Unfortunately for him, the lines were moving slowly and Elsie was hard to shake off once you let her get going on a topic. ”But see, the thing is, he treats me like I’m a kid and I’m not, and yes he’s a little bit older, but I mean it’s not that big of an age difference, you know? I’ll be nineteen next month and he’s twenty-five; six years isn’t that much, especially when you consider that some people are fifteen or more years apart and live happily together for decades.” Why were people so concerned with age anyways? Elsie couldn’t care less. Why should a number stop her from talking to someone? Shouldn’t it be their personality that she liked, not their age? She thought so, but it seemed like sometimes society didn’t always agree with her. ”But anyways, you’re clearly old. What would it take you to ignore a number and just look at a person for who they are?”

words: 873 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: nom nom nom

[wesley]

Wesley never really thought that his shopping habits would be the one thing to draw someone in. It wasn’t like he was buying necessarily inviting things. He had some coffee and some whiskey. Really, it just made him look like a drunk. Not that there was any truth in that, though. Not like you could watch his habits and frequently visited places and find out the exact same thing. Wesley was, if nothing else, a wee bit predictable. But that was good sometimes. It was stable and it was something that kept you somewhat sane. Just so happened that Wesley’s predictability happened to rest on the fact that he really wasn’t all that stable. Not in the mental sense of it, but constantly moving and never sitting still long hardly forms a solid base. But who really cared? He liked his life—or mostly did, up until his accident and his brother’s death.

But as this girl kept talking to him, he couldn’t help but wonder why. Honestly, if he was her, he would certainly not pick him out of a crowd to ask a question. Not unless the question was ‘Jack Daniels or Jim Beam?’ But for a young girl to think he would offer good advice for… what? A relationship? It almost made him laugh. Stranger danger was one thing, if she didn’t care about that, but common sense was another entirely. Going off of age hardly seemed like the best idea. “Yeah… Clarification is good.” His eyebrow rose slightly as she mentioned the disconnect between her mind and her mouth. Maybe she should’ve had that checked out. Wesley wasn’t too sure he was familiar with how that worked… he was pretty good at saying what he meant and meaning what he said. At least, in general terms or if there wasn’t a woman involved. If nothing else, he was thankful that this girl was so young; it made it a lot easier to talk to her when he didn’t have to worry about a million other things at the same time.

“Maybe you should start believing it in… or at least profile the people you’re asking questions too.” Clearing his throat a bit, he did do his best to offer a bit of a smile, though. See, he was friendly. But the idea that this girl was just picking people at random seemed sketchy, for her sake. Of course, when she went into her story, he wasn’t feeling much more confident in her better judgment. So she went home with some grumpy guy on the bus… stayed at his house… and feel in love? That was a smart move, right there, regardless of the age difference. “Wait, so… he could be a nice guy? And he’s attractive? And that’s all you’re going off of?” Girls. They were ridiculous. If he’d known her any better—or maybe at all—he would’ve smacked some common sense into her. For all she knew, that man could’ve been some type of rapist or creep. Maybe next time she randomly joined a stranger off the bus, it would be. He couldn’t help but imagine his sister getting into the same situation. He assumed that was one of the only reasons he was still a part of the conversation, that, and he couldn’t help but feel concerned for the safety of the kid in front of him.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest lightly, careful to avoid any tender spots or move his shoulder too much, his lowered his gaze back to her face as she started explaining again. So what if they were in a line. Maybe he could actually help this girl… or mess it up worse; either way, he wouldn’t be bored in the check out line, right?

She went into the whole thing about their ages and how he treated her like a child, and then finally asked what it would take for him to ignore the age of someone. Pausing a moment, he tilted his head and actually thought about it. Wesley never really considered younger women. Not that he was opposed to them, or anything, but he’d always been more for those that were closer to his age or, sometimes, older. Usually, that resulted in things being a little more interesting. “I really don’t think age matters. It’s a personal preference… unless you’re getting into creepy stuff, then you’re just screwed up. My parents are ten years apart and they’re great. I just won’t go out with younger girls.” Of course, rather than think about the fact that an answer like that may reiterate that age differences were fully okay in a couple, Wesley simply talked. Besides, what was wrong with an older partner? He liked experience… maybe she did too. “And when you’re looking for advice, try not to insult the person you’re asking. Not old at all.” He half grumbled his last statement, dropping his arms back to his side and eying the girl once more.



(Side note: ‘Elsie shook her head and adjusted the person that hung from her shoulder.’

… that sounds so painful. xD

Also, I feel like “I really don’t think age matters” will be the only thing she’ll glean from that. )

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[elsie]

Elsie knew she sometimes overwhelmed people. Scratch that, she was well aware that most people she spoke to didn’t want to deal with the girl that would never shut up about anything, and sometimes she spoke so much that they weren’t quite sure what to respond to. It wasn’t as if Elsie was oblivious to this but she figured that if she spoke enough, somewhere along the line someone would learn to keep up with her, and whoever that was would be quite the keeper. Or several someones. She’d like to have a bunch of friends that spoke at her pace, though she truly believed that wasn’t going to happen unless she purposely called a meeting for all the talkative people in the world, and even at that, people had their off days. It was rare, but sometimes even chatty Elsie Porter just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Granted, that was usually when she was sick and lost her voice, and it was just too painful to even attempt to speak. Her family loved when she got sick. It wasn’t that they wanted her to feel like crap, they just enjoyed the peace and quite every now and again. Quite the obscure way to say ‘I love you’, isn’t it? Her family was strange.

When he repeated his desire for clarification, Elsie couldn’t help but laugh. ”Don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you. While you’re quite attractive, I don’t think you are ever going to be anything other than eye candy and a friend to bother. No offense. Though, that probably is a bit relieving, isn’t it?” she said, laughing again. She doubted that this man wanted a girl just shy of nineteen hitting on him. The idea of that was just strange to her. While she didn’t really care about age differences, she also wasn’t about to date someone who was probably closer to her father’s age than her age. Then it just started to get weird. Elsie grinned and knew that he was talking specifically about himself, or at least assumed he was. ”But then you wouldn’t get my sparkling company, and wouldn’t that just be a shame?” she asked rhetorically, tossing him a wink. ”And I know enough not to run to the man with the gun or the heroin needle sticking from his arm. Gosh.” It was silly to think she completely ignored the rules of Stranger Danger. She may have been stubborn but she wasn’t an idiot. She just liked to believe the best in people and she didn’t think that this man was going to do anything to her, especially not in a crowded grocery store. He seemed more likely to go home, have a drink, and wonder what the hell just happened in the store.

”Yes, everyone could be a nice person, if they wanted to be,” Elsie shrugged. She didn’t see why he stressed the potential of Brodie being nice. The better question was, why couldn’t Brodie be nice? There was no reason that he ought to be grumpy for the rest of his existence. Elsie blinked at the stranger. ”I like his dog,” Elsie stated. ”He has this boxer/pitbull mix that he rescued a long time ago. The poor thing is all beat up and is missing an eye; it’s actually rather distressing to look at if you think about what the creature went through, but in some way it is the cutest freaking thing I have ever seen. And Brodie’s got this cool loft apartment that sort of makes me feel like I’m in some unfinished building in San Francisco-- not that I’ve ever been there but I could only assume it’d be wonderful.” Elsie was good at rambling but not always so good at looking at the bigger picture. ”And plus, deep down he’s a gentleman. He could've made me sleep on the couch, but instead he gave up his bed so I could sleep comfortably,” she nodded. That definitely had to mean there was good in him.

So age didn’t matter. Fantastic! Unfortunately, Elsie was well aware that it wasn’t a generalization when the mystery man in front of her said that; it was his own personal preference which may or may not have translated over to Brodie. Somehow she needed Brodie to see that it didn’t matter. ”Ten years, huh? There’s only about six or seven years between Brodie and I,” she said, mostly to herself, the cogs in her mind turning as she thought. Or schemed, rather. ”Alright, so if you don’t go out with younger girls, then you probably go out with older women. But what makes them willing to date a younger man?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She thought it was a valid question and she was by no means judging his dating preferences. She grinned and patted his head. ”Aww, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. You are older than me though,” she said. He couldn’t deny that one, now could he? ”What’s your name, Mr. Not Old At All? I’m Elsie.”

words: 876 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: ha ha typos

[wesley]

This girl certainly had a way with words. It wasn’t that Wesley was unfriendly—quite the opposite, he loved people. He could even keep up with what she was saying, so that wasn’t a problem. It was more so what she was saying. Apparently, she didn’t have any filter between what she was thinking and what her mouth was saying. That, or she’d never actually been told what social acceptable meant. Usually, when talking to a man in the grocery store, you don’t just refer to them as eye candy but a friend to bother. Especially not when you don’t even know their name… and they’re old enough to be your father. “No, I can’t really say that’s ‘relieving… not the word I would pick. Disconcerting, maybe.” He still wasn’t so certain that this girl had common sense. To him, it seemed much more like she’d be easily taken advantage of. Especially since her view of ‘stranger danger’ was someone with a gun or a needle. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he cleared his throat. “You realize that not every creep out there carries a gun… or a needle…” Shaking his head, he glanced back towards the aisle. Maybe a change of subject was in order, since he doubted this would get them anywhere.

“See, I don’t know that I believe that.” He shrugged shortly after her, tilting his head. “I’ve met a lot of people that I really don’t think have it in them to be nice.” Of course, before he could say anything else she was off and talking again. And this time, about a dog. He really didn’t give a shit to begin with about this guy… and even less about whatever kind of dog it was that he had. It could’ve been a donkey for all he cared, it wasn’t like he had to live with it. As touching as the animal’s story was, it simply wasn’t all that… important or interesting. “At least it’s nice that he gave you the bed and that he wasn’t some creep or serial killer. I don’t see how that was easier than going home, but… you know, to each their own.” Although he had nothing against the girl, the longer he stood in line the more tempted he was to just open his bottle and start drinking. Though, the lack of any ice or any amount of chill to it was enough to stop him… at least for now. If he had to wait too much longer he might get desperate.

Sure, Wesley would readily admit to anyone that he liked to drink. He had no problem with that. It wasn’t like he was forgetting his name every night, it was a few drinks every day or two and that was it. But, considering his habits over the last few days, he found that he’d been drinking more than before. Maybe it was because of his free time—it wasn’t really something he had a lot of before his accident. Once he was healed and back on the road, there simply wasn’t as much time to sit around and do nothing. Though, he could also say that it was because of everything else going on in his life. Not that he would. In fact, he couldn’t think of anything that would actually make him admit that. It wasn’t as if he was trying to hide things, but he honestly thought that he would get over it all quickly. Burying your big brother isn’t enjoyable for anyone, but Wesley had always been the one to get over things quickly. The one that could come to terms and deal. Just so happened that, with all his free time and nothing to fill it, he’d had more time to think and more time to realize that he wasn’t coming to terms with it. He was beginning to think that it was the silence. His aunt worked full time—which he was actually thankful for, since he didn’t necessarily want to talk to her all day either—and he spent most of the day either at the house or wandering around town. But it was nowhere near as noisy as he was used too.

Maybe that was why he was so willing to talk to strangers. They provided distractions. They provided a good thing to focus on for a time so he wouldn’t go insane just sitting around thinking about everything. They gave him someone to talk too, even if he didn’t have the trust and confidence in them he did with others. Elsie’s voice brought him back to reality and the conversation at hand. Her question seemed a little… well, awkward, but at the same time she seemed interested in this whole age thing. Why not help her out? Or try too, at least. Shrugging again, he tried to work out exactly what to say. Did he really want to go into his relationship life with this girl…? It wasn’t like it was all that great. Since he travelled so much, there wasn’t much room for a committed relationship. Not that it meant he didn’t have preferences. “I don’t know… I guess it depends on the person. Women that go for younger men are looking for excitement. Men looking for younger women like what they see, usually. Not much deeper than that.” There. At least she had an answer now, even if he didn’t disclose his sex life with her.

“Yeah, yeah. I figured. Well… pleasure to meet you, Elsie. I’m Wesley.” He paused, glancing momentarily at the stuff in his hands. “And I would offer my hand, but they’re occupied.”

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[elsie]

Elsie cocked an eyebrow and frowned at him slightly. ”Would you prefer if I hit on you? I could, though I must admit that would make me awfully uncomfortable,” she offered. Never one to turn down an earnest desire, she supposed. There’d be no real damage in hitting on him, but it was weird even thinking about it when the person was probably almost twice your age. Elsie sighed and rolled her eyes; why did most people treat her like she was a dumb ditz? Sure, she was a little ditzy but she definitely wasn’t dumb. ”I know that. Gosh, you certainly over think everything, don’t you, sir? That’s not a healthy habit; all it will bring to you is a rather large headache and a very sad face. You need to lighten up a bit, have a little more faith in people. Yes I know that not every bad person in the world is going to be so obvious about it, but I also know that if you never give someone a chance, you might miss out on something fantastic. That would be one of the most terrible things, in my opinion,” she nodded.

What type of man was this stranger? It was hard to tell, in Elsie’s eyes, since she tried to reserve judgement. He wasn’t out right mean, nor grumpy, nor elated, nor loose, nor shy, but he was...critical. Yes, she thought that he might be one with a more critical out look on life. The more she spoke with him-- or rather, spoke at him-- the more she was beginning to think that this was a likely description for the man, and not an altogether bad one. ”Sometimes that’s the case,” she shrugged, ”but I like to think it’s their decision to be bad.” She hated believing that a mother’s child could just be born bad. That wasn’t fair to the parents, or really even the child since for the first couple years of that kid’s life, it was just a squishy sack of flesh and poop. Most babies aren’t particularly harmful when they’re at that stage. Elsie would honestly start to worry for the future mothers in the world if infants started being horrible people. Wasn’t it already hard enough to be a new parent? That’s what Elsie had heard. Making the kid evil would probably just make the parents go flat out insane.

Elsie laughed and could see where his hesitance to do the same had he been in her position had come from. ”I couldn’t just go home that was the problem. I was at this party and it turned out everyone was going to drink. I didn’t drink, but my ride home did, so I went to take the bus. Only problem is, I’ve never really taken the bus before, so I just sort of took the first stop I found, but the storm was so bad that the bus was shaking and the roads were really slippery, so I just sort of got off when Brodie did. Then he offered for me to come inside since it was storming so badly and he was calling a cab just as the power went out and the phone lines were dead. Didn’t know where I was and it was too dark and stormy to walk home, so I didn’t really have that much of a choice,” she rambled. It made perfect sense and if Brodie had found another way to get her safely home, she knew he would have kicked her out the door without a second of hesitation. She furrowed her brows and looked down at herself. ”I’m freaking adorable,” she mumbled; why didn’t Brodie like her? At least the mystery man in front of her had a name. ”That’s a weird grocery list,” she noted, though not rudely. Coffee and whiskey. Still amused her. ”I was thinking of making him cookies. Does that work? I mean, they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and I’m not studying to be a surgeon any time soon...”

words: 701 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: nom nom nom

[wesley]

“Hell no… you’re like… twelve!” Somehow, the idea of being hit on by this girl was worse than being told he was just eye candy. Apparently, the thought of simply being used for ones visual pleasure was more appealing than actually being considered good enough to hit on… by a toddler. Really, did this girl even have parents? He was tempted to ask if he could talk with her father. Common sense was taught, not just learned, so she was apparently missing that somewhere along the line. That, or she really was just that good at annoying or weirding people out. “I don’t over think everything… Believe me, if I did, I wouldn’t be in Capeside right now…” He paused, tilting his head and considering that idea. “Maybe I should, might make more sense than what I normally do.” Another pause. Did he really have any grounds to chastise this girl when he’d not only made his share of stupid mistakes, but he continued to make them on a daily basis? It wasn’t like common sense was his main motivator in life.

Sighing, he shook his head slightly to ignore the next common that seemed like he was trying to play dad and clearing his throat. Finally, they were able to take another few steps in line. What the hell was going on, anyway? Were they hand writing everyone’s orders? He hoped not… mostly because his patience was wearing thinning… and he was getting hungry. Then again, if he got too hungry, he was in the right place. But that would tear apart all of the progress he’d made in line if he decided to leave now and add something else to his arms. “Hm... maybe. But some people just aren’t willing, or able, to decide to be anything else.” While he disliked the idea as much as the next guy, he’d seen it to be the case a time or two. There were some people that were just unwilling to change. Or, on the flipside, that weren’t even aware they had a problem. Of course, at the same time, it made him wonder if he wasn’t someone like that. Not that he was being rude to everyone he saw, but he definitely had his moments, and definitely with other things in his life too. Maybe he hadn’t even realized how messed up he was.

As Elsie started to explain how the night had gone down, he figured he could ease up a little. While there was likely something that could be done, it did seem like they tried to get her home. If he had been in the same position, he likely would’ve offered her a place, too…. Or, because of a modern invention called vehicles, he would’ve driven her home. That always worked too. But she seemed adamant about the fact that he was being an asshole by asking so many times, even if she didn’t say it. Really, she didn’t seemed fazed at all. The perfect picture of calm, cool, and collected… and laughing. This was all normal, right? Shifting once more, Wesley couldn’t help but break a smile. “Maybe it was dark last night—couldn’t get a good look, you know? Besides, guy probably had other things on his mind… than the young woman that was sleeping in his bed.” Sure, that was possible, right? Any man would react in the same way.

Glancing at his items, his smile widened. “Essentials.” Did he really have to explain? Probably not. Seemed logical enough to him for those to be the only two things he was getting. The bare necessities and all that. Looking towards the line once, he paused a moment before turning back to the girl at the mention of cookies. “You’re going to win him over with cookies…?” The idea seemed strange, but once he started to think about it he realized that if some girl showed up on his door step with cookies, he’d be willing to let them in. Nodding a bit and momentarily considering the possibility, he smiled. “I don’t know… seems like a good plan to me.”

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[elsie]

Elsie looked at him, sighed, and rolled her eyes. As she shook her head, a loose strand of blonde hair came free and she had to pause to tuck it back behind her ear. ”I am not twelve. In what universe does a twelve year old have these boobs? Besides, if I’m twelve, then you’re fifty. I happen to be turning nineteen next month,” she said with a confident nod. Even if that still weirded him out, he’d be happy to find that she had no intention of hitting on him and wouldn’t. Although, she kept that tiny bit of information in the back of her mind in case they ever became friends and she wanted to bother him more. She could just pretend to hit on him and make him squirm. Church-girl goodness aside, she did find a little too much amusement in maybe people feel awkward. It was probably just because she rarely felt awkward herself and didn’t understand why other people got to be that way. Elsie shook her head once more and frowned. ”No, stop thinking; it’s bad for you.”

She shifted the basket with her few groceries in her hand and took a couple of steps forward. She was beginning to enjoy grocery lines; you really did meet interesting people, didn’t you? ”True, but then those people suck and I never end up talking to them for long anyways,” she said, smiling a bit at the end. She didn’t let people bring her down because she honestly saw no point in it. If they were going to be mean, they could be mean, but they certainly weren’t going to be mean to Elsie Porter. If they tried, she’d just run away. If they tried to chase her, she’d just run faster. She was quite the runner and was always a strong sprinter, and was confident that she could out run any mean person that tried to bring her down. Eventually karma would hit them anyways and send them face first down into the dirt.

She didn’t like the thought that men who went for younger girls liked what they saw. It wasn’t that she hated the principle; she disliked that Brodie hadn’t outwardly liked what he saw. Sure, she had no clue what was going on in his mind, but she also got the impression that he didn’t want to be around her in the slightest. Obviously he wasn’t giving her enough of a chance, and she was determined to get that chance from him. Frowning, she looked up at Wesley, who was quite tall, though not as tall as Brodie, and tilted her head to the side slightly. ”You think?” she asked, not rambling on in her usual form. She liked that explanation. Brodie was simply too consumed by his thoughts to realise how cute she was. ”He did seem like he drifted in and out of the conversation sometimes. He probably did have something going on inside that handsome head of his. Yes, yes, next time I see him, he will be more focused and able to hold a decent conversation,” she said, not allowing the universe to change what she had decided.

Elsie laughed and looked down at what she had. Baking ingredients. She considered those to be essentials, but to his their own, she supposed. ”Right, well, I don’t think they’ll be my essentials any time soon,” she grinned. She didn’t even think she’d be legal next month. Twenty-one was the drinking age, from what she remembered. Not that it mattered much to her; she liked being in control of herself and anything that altered her control was just bad. Elsie blinked and looked at him with wide blue eyes. ”What? Is that weird?” she asked. She didn’t really have to woo her ex-boyfriends. If anything, they tried to get her attention. Flowers and dates and the like. She was not well versed in the art of wooing a man, hence why she needed Wesley’s help. ”See? People love cookies!” she said, now smiling. ”And hey, if this whole thing works, I’ll even bake you a batch of cookies. Not wooing cookies. No, these can be...wooing-tip-cookies,” she nodded. Or thank you cookies; she guessed that was an easier way to state it.

words: 739 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: nom nom nom

[wesley]

“Um… well, I wasn’t really… looking.” Even now he did his best to keep his gaze specifically away. The thought of eyeing up the girl seemed fundamentally wrong, seeing as how he was still thinking she was barely legal. Hell, she was barely legal. Cringing lightly, Wesley shifted awkwardly in line. Normally, if he were in one of the aisles, he’d have an excuse to quietly slip past her and find another aisle to search. But here, he was stuck. There was no getting out of it and he had this girl talking about older men and boobs. Going well? Probably not. In fact, which he was originally thinking was going to be an okay conversation was quickly turning to a far more awkward and unsettling one. Now she was going to have the whole rest of it awkward whether she meant it to or not. Shaking his head a bit, he dropped his gaze to examine his whiskey bottle once more and go through the pros and cons. “Since when is thinking bad?” He waited a moment before actually looking back up at her, raising an eyebrow. “You know, especially when it’s like ‘Should I try to jump from a plane without a parachute or with one?’ See, if I think that through, I’ll probably take the parachute. If I don’t, I might just jump.” This time he smiled, noting that he was obviously joking.

His smile widened just a bit, nodding slightly at what she said. “Seems like a good enough plan to me.” Despite the residual awkwardness he was still feeling about this entire thing, he was beginning to like this girl. She was good at saying it like it was and, from his first impression of her, not really giving a shit what everyone else thought concerning her. From the way she’d already been responding to him, he also realized that he wasn’t going to change her mind on anything, she was just going to find things that supported her points. That, or argue with him about what he offered as advice. Seemed a bit wrong to ask for advice and then say it was stupid, but he didn’t mind all that much. Maybe it was stupid. Who was he to say? It wasn’t like he was an expert in the relationship field. He’d hardly ever had a consistent girlfriend, let alone enough experience with actual relationships to constitute enough experience to give advice about it.

The one thing he could say about this girl, though, was that she was persistent. Everything kept pointing back to this Brodie fellow, whoever he was, and she wasn’t giving it a break. He somewhat likened it to watching a five year old talk about a crush they have one an adult or tv show character. Almost as if it was an admiration and fascination, rather than actual relationship. If she hadn’t made him so awkward earlier, he would be tempted to call it cute. But, seeing as how she made perfectly clear the word cute had no part in this conversation, he simply remained quiet on the subject. “Yeah. I say go with that. People get preoccupied. Just gotta let ‘em sort it all out then try again.” Something like that, at least. She’d probably do the same thing regardless of what he told her anyway, so why bother trying to make it sound right.

“They definitely should be. It’s kind of a necessity for every kitchen, in my opinion.” Dropping his gaze momentarily to her cart, he noticed that she mostly had cooking supplies. Or baking—whichever it was. She probably thought he was crazy for labeling his booze like he did. But that’s who he was, plain and simple. His smile returned as he looked back up to her as she mentioned cookies again and he shrugged. Really, he was fairly certain he’d accept a bowl of cereal if it was offered. He wasn’t all that picky, and he didn’t imagine Brodie would be either. Assuming, of course, he was the typical male. If a woman gave him free food, turning it down would somehow break a code. Just like Elsie then offered him cookies. Conditional cookies, but cookies nonetheless. “Whooing-tip-cookies? Sounds like a plan to me.”

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[elsie]

Elsie smirked slightly. Yes, she was a rather sheltered, good little church girl, but she was almost nineteen and went to public school. She was used to pervy little teenage boys leering creepily at her, so she was well aware of the fact that her chest area gained attention sometimes. She also knew that it didn’t really gain attention from men who looked like they were in their mid to late thirties; she was just being a bit annoying when she teased him. She thought it seemed to work, or at least make him uncomfortable, which also amused her more than it should have. ”What a southern gentleman,” she said in response with a smile. He reminded her a little bit of a cowboy. A little bit. Now in her mind he was forever going to be one of those old-timey southern gentlemen, with a hint of cowboy. ”Now you’re just being silly,” she said with a grin. ”Everyone knows that jumping without the parachute is more fun,” she winked. Now she was just being deliberately facetious.

Yes, yes, she was going to bother Brodie until he wanted to hang out with her on his own free will. Somehow that only probably made sense in Elsie’s mind, but her mind hadn’t steered her wrong yet. Well, it steered her into a strange man’s apartment in the middle of the night and into said strange man’s bed, but when said like that it sounded wrong and creepy. Luckily she knew that the situation was different than that. ”I’m sure one of these days, he’ll realise that it’s just pointless to be grumpy and unsociable. He’ll come to his senses and realise that I’m not some kid, and that I’m worth giving his time to,” she stated with a single nod at the end. Elsie was more so stating this to herself, but often spoke out loud when she didn’t mean to. Nevertheless, her idea was solid.

Elsie laughed and shook her head. ”You’re telling a girl who isn’t even legal to drink in this state that she should have liquor in her kitchen? My, my, Mr. Southern Gentleman has a naughty side to him, doesn’t he?” she said, grinning to herself. She wondered what he was like when drunk. Not that she liked drunk people, nor did she want to be around him drunk, but sometimes people got rid of their uptight shell and loosened up, making them do things they normally wouldn’t do. ”But I’m only giving you cookies if you give me more advice,” she said. Because really, he hadn’t given her much. ”So, what are the secrets of the male mind, hmm? Simple and easy to break? Complicated and time consuming? Just want food, sex, booze? What?” she asked with a light laugh.

words: 480 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: failpost D: don’thateme

[wesley]

While, like any other, Wesley had a tendency to sometimes look where he shouldn’t, he still found the idea of evaluating this girl’s breasts to be out of the question. Not only because she was young, but also because she actually mentioned it. Who really did that, unless you were paying them? And he certainly wasn’t paying this girl to stand here and talk to him. “It’s just the way my momma raised me.” Southern gentleman. Wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words strung together. Usually, it was when he was traveling, rather than actually back at home. Around the town he grew up, that was just the way things were—nothing special. But, apparently, when you ventured out into the vast majority of the country, treating women respectfully didn’t happen. At least the Southern side was a given with him—it was hard to hide the boots and belt buckle, though he’d left the hat at home today. “That’s… very true. Just like rock climbing without a rope or bungee jumping over concrete.” He was sure he could go on forever with these. Hell, he was the poster child for stupid stunts.

As she started talking about Brodie again, Wesley realized just how creepy it sounded. Not that he was going to interfere… she didn’ seem the violent type. But definitely somewhat stalkerish. Wasn’t there a song about following someone until they started to love them? He didn’t know. If it didn’t have a country twang, he was lost. Hell, even then, he was lost half the time. Unlike some, he didn’t spend the majority of his day listening to music, especially not the more modern stuff. “Um. I’m sure that’s logical. How could he not realize it, you know?” Although he wasn’t necessarily confident of that, he smiled anyway. What could it hurt, right? As long as she wasn’t planning on pulling out the fishing wire and knife, everything would be just fine. Not like he knew this Brodie fellow, anyway.

Despite himself, Wesley’s smile widened at the mention of the alcohol situation. “Hey, I ain’t a cop and I definitely didn’t wait until I was twenty-one to drink. I don’t see the purpose of age limits, anyway, as long as you drink responsibly.” He shrugged, shifting slightly when the movement brought attention to the ache in his shoulder. When she started talking about cookies and advice again, his attention was drawn away from the soreness and back to the conversation. “Secrets of the male mind…?” He paused, tilting his head and considering it a moment. Were there any? Doubtful. At least not to his. He liked his women and whiskey, and if it gave him an adrenaline rush he was about 89% more likely to try it, regardless of the risks involved… in fact, the more risks the better. Despite now noting the uncomfortable ache in his shoulder, he shrugged again. “Seems pretty straightforward to me. Like… if it was a book, it’d be a brochure. Pretty sure the female mind would be more like the Encyclopedia. All of the volumes.”

[/size]

[elsie]

She smiled and resisted patting him on the head. ”She raised you well; be sure to tell her that often. And buy her flowers and candies and scented candles and all those lovely things that make mothers happy,” she said with a nod. She was very close with her parents and always had been, so she often tried to do little things for them. Whether it was as simple as doing the laundry, or as extravagant as attempting to cook a giant meal, Elsie had the unstoppable urge to just attempt to make her parents’ lives easier. They did, after all, create her, and she felt like she probably owed them a little bit of something for not just throwing her out of the house like some parents did to their kids. Of course, those kids were usually troubled, and Elsie was far from troubled, but that was besides the point. Elsie laughed and shook her head at his ridiculousness. ”I think I’d rather the rock climbing than the bungee jumping,” she decided. She could cling to the cliff for dear life and wait for someone to save her.

”Exactly! Ha, I knew you were a good pick to bother,” she said with a nod, pleased with her plan. After all, there were really only two ways this all could go. Either Brodie would realise that he wanted her, or he would continue to be a grumpy jerk for her to bother. She hoped that the first option would be the one he went with, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he went with the second choice. ”I’ll definitely be reporting back to you on the status of my progress. Sort of pick your brains along the way, y’know?” she said. Not that he probably cared. He was probably wondering how he’d gotten roped in to talking with a chatty nineteen year old anyways. Poor guy. She almost felt bad for him. Almost.

She grinned and shrugged her slender shoulders. She had to quickly reach out a hand to stop her purse from sliding down her arm, but she eventually gave up on making it stay there by shoving it in the basket next to the flour. ”I don’t really care about the legalities; I just hate the taste,” she laughed, ”hence why parties are rather boring to me. I mean, watching drunk people can be amusing at times, but after awhile it gets kind of boring. Although sometimes they don’t want to move so I can just talk to them for quite some time and they don’t even have enough brain cells left to tell me to shut up. It’s wonderful!” She was joking...somewhat. It wasn’t that she hated being around drunk people or that she was uptight, it was just...something that didn’t interest her, plain and simple. ”Alright, give me the low down on the brochure, the deep secrets of men. Would you rather a candlelit dinner or a sportsgame? Chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies? Hair up or down? Jeans or skirts?” she asked, throwing random questions at him. Sure, the answers could be completely different from Brodie’s, but Brodie wasn’t there to bother right now, was he? And at least with the cookie question she knew what thank-you cookies to make.

words: 564 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: failpost D: don’thateme

[wesley]

“Well, thank you… I’ll be sure to tell her you said that. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear her son’s not a complete schmuck.” A pleasant smile slid onto Wesley’s face as she made the comment about his mom. Really, if any of the Stone kids were going to send something home to mom, it would’ve likely been Wesley. Not that the other didn’t care, he’d just always been the one away. Apparently gifts were a good way to make up for that absence. Not like he was really required to be at home anymore, either… but it was nice every now and then, you know? Moms are like that, at least. “Don’t worry. I make sure to send her stuff now and then.” Really, he found Elsie to be quite amusing. Not that he’d invite her out to coffee or anything, but she seemed fun to talk too—for a kid. Or, maybe it was just due to the fact that she somewhat reminded him of his sister, and that helped his interest in the girl.

Laughing a bit, he shifted and took a few more steps in line. “I think I’d take the rock climbing, but only because I’ve never been. And I have bungee jumped over concrete.” His smile widened a bit, realizing just how stupid some of his life decisions really were. Not like he minded—it kept things interesting. Heaven forbid his life be boring, for even just a few minutes.

Nodding his head a bit as she said he’d been a good pick, he shrugged a bit. “I’m good at being bothered, I guess.” At least in grocery stores, as was becoming more apparent the longer he was in Capeside. From now on, he was committed to letting his aunt do all the shopping, regardless of what she came home with. “Progress, eh? Sounds… thrilling.” He wasn’t sure how this girl planning on staying in touch, but he figured… if she was persistent enough to try and hook this poor bastard, Brodie, she’d probably be able to figure Wesley out too. Hell, she’d probably follow him home and start stalking him too—just so she could get help now and then about a guy that Wesley didn’t even know. Though, it was probably better that way. Then, he could give advice to the girl to make her happy and not worry about how this would affect the life of this other guy. If they were friends, then that’d be a completely different matter entirely.

Sometimes, Wesley was okay with being a complete bastard to strangers. Now was one of those times… too bad for Brodie.

“See, you just need to taste the right stuff. Not any of the cheap shit that tastes like motor oil or something.” He shook his head, shrugging a bit and understanding her little rant about being drunk at parties. “And, besides, getting drunk is a lot different than enjoying alcohol.” While Wesley was in no way a connoisseur of alcohol—any type for that matter—he knew what he liked and he knew what tasted good… and what made you watch to cut your tongue out of your mouth for ever having tasted it. In his many years on the planet, he’d had many opportunities to try different things. Not that he was looking to pollute a kid, but it did make him cringe just thinking about all the kids that thought alcohol was just having a drink at a keg party. Poor, deprived souls.

Clearing his throat, Wesley tilted her head a bit as she went through a few questions. Really, they seemed easy to Wesley. It didn’t take more than a few seconds to think of which he’d prefer—and why—and answer. “Candlelit dinner, chocolate chip, always hair down, and skirts.” Nodding as he finished, feeling as though that was some sort of accomplishment, he smiled and couldn’t help but shrug again. “Those seem pretty straightforward and easy.”

[/size]

[elsie]

Elsie laughed and once more eyed the whiskey and coffee. ”Not a complete schmuck, at least,” she said with a mischievous grin. From what she could tell, Wesley was not a bad guy. Sure, like he said you couldn’t always tell from looks if someone was a bad person, but she figured that if he was bad, he would’ve done something already to give her a warning. Instead, he was just a very, very confused man. Mostly because she was bothering him, but confused nonetheless. For a second Elsie briefly wondered if he always lived his life in a state of confusion, or if it was her presence and her chattering that brought it about.

Ignoring the thought she moved on to the next topic that popped into her very curious young mind. Rock climbing. Elsie wasn’t the greatest at sports but she wasn’t adverse to them. ”Let me guess, you also poke bears and play with poisonous snakes in your spare time?” she asked, hoping that the answer would be no. While he may have been okay with bungee jumping over concrete, it was definitely something she would never do, mostly because she had an extreme fear of heights and didn’t really like amusement park rides. She could only assume that bungee jumping was a horrible mix of the two.

Elsie grinned and took another couple steps forward as they neared the beginning of the line. ”I think if my dad heard you right now, he’d punch you square in the face,” she laughed. ”Then again, he’s not much of the fighting type. He’d actually probably give you a very, very stern face and give you a nice long lecture. I get my talking from somewhere but I guess it’s a good thing I don’t go around lecturing people. Then they really wouldn’t like me.” But yes, Elsie just didn’t like alcohol. She’d probably acquire a taste for it over the years, but for now she’d stick with her tea and be happy. ”Unfortunately people my age are stupid and immature, so their main goal is to get drunk. Now you see why I like older men, huh?” she winked. Not that she liked him like that; she meant Brodie.

Candlelit dinner. She could figure out how to cook, maybe. Chocolate chip? Those were the cookies she’d bake for Wesley. Hair down, she could work with that. She wore it down most of the time, anyways. ”Skirts, huh? Makes sense. Easier access,” she said with a nod, holding back a smirk. She was supposed to be the good little Christian girl. ”Too easy? Awesome, that was just the warm up round,” she said. ”How about sex with a virgin?”

words: 470 - tagged: wesley - outfit: here - notes: failpost D: don’thateme