#weestley

            honestly when she’d gotten the simple text to her phone that her favorite guy and her least favorite lady had broken up she’d almost giggled. but then she remembered that for some god awful, stupid reason westley was madly in love with buttercup. that had put a damper on her new-found good mood. kinda.

           she was SURE all he needed right now was his mind taken off of his now ended relationship. she figured he couldn’t be that upset about it. some part of him had to know buttercup wasn’t good for him ANYWAY. when he’d introduced her to chel she’d had to fight a grimace. she was about as interesting as watching water evaporate from mud. she was pretty, sure, but otherwise chel just didn’t SEE what wes saw in her. and she didn’t think him shallow enough to love a girl so much just cause she was nice to look at. so were the flowers she was named after, but chel wasn’t about to run out and MARRY a flower now was she?

             yes chel had seen this break up coming MILES away. call it woman’s intuition, being good with people, or just not being blind. but as she cared for westley she wouldn't even have to dig deep down and pretend to care about this situation. she DID care. about westley. but she could care LESS about the relationship that had just ended. so very little acting required, she could handle doing something like this.

         quickly she gave miguel a hug, tulio a kiss and called a premature end to their coffee house meet up, ready to go tend to the mess buttercup had left. after getting westley’s favorite drink and pastry, that is, cause she was sure he’d need it. still when she walks into the apartment she stops dead in the middle of kicking off her boots. perhaps the inevitable had been clear to her but not so clear to wes. despite how many times she voiced her OPINION. because westley looks like a miserable guy lead  from a romantic comedy right after an argument and before he goes chasing after the female lead to an airport. 

       leaning up against the arm of their couch is the man of the hour, or she thinks so, from the back it just looks like a comforter has suddenly come to life and learned how to sit. on the television plays        oh god is that hitch? jesus christ. and is that HER mint chip ice cream on the table? grumbling beneath her breath she kicks off her shoes the rest of the way and places the food she’d brought with her on the table beside the front door. 

           ❛ are you okay, honey? i’m sorry about what happened today, got home soon as i could. ❜ VALIANTLY she resists the urge to launch into one of her “you’re too good for her” speeches and merely slides brown arms around his shoulders to hug him gently. she’s also physically biting her tongue as she places her chin on the top of what would be his head underneath the blankets he’s wrapped himself up in.  ❛ whoa wait wes, babe, is that wine? oh my god you're drinking WINE over her? ❜