𝒘𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏

love was an understatement  .  he’d  thought  he  had  been  in  love  countless  of  times  ,  more  than  he’d  been  able  to  count  .  with  a  name  etched  in  ink  across  his  skin  ,  he  swore  he  was  in  love  then  ,  too  .  but  here  , and  now  ,  he  was  more  sure  of  himself  ,  of  caroline  ,  than  he  was  of  anything  .  proposals  whispered  with  a  sleepy  haze  and  closed  eyes  as  the  sun  peaked  up  and  through  the  blinds  .  proposals  ,  marked  in  cards  and  sunflowers  on  anniversary  days  .  proposals  ,  in  the  form  of  a  promise---  i’ll  always  come  home  to  you  . because  she  was  it  for  him  ,  from  the  moment  he’d  seen  her  first  ,  across  damp  pavement  and  rain  that  would  cost  him  the  cost  of  the  gig  to  replace  equipment  ,  he’d  been  stunned  in  his  steps  .  his  heart  knew  ,  from  the  moment  he  saw  her  ,  that  this  girl---  whoever  she  was  ,  with  sad  blue  eyes  ,  and  hair  dipped  down  between  her  shoulders  ,  was  sunshine  incarnate  ,  and  he  was  made  specifically  for  her  .  for  the  happiness  that  came  from  the  best  days  of  his  life  ,  from  the  doubt  that  sprung  from  when  he  first  lost  his  hearing---  would  anyone  love  me  like  this  ?  and  they  did  ,  countless  ,  dozens  ,  and  eventually  ?  the  world  would  too  .  but  instead  ,  if  she  loved  him----  if  she  woke  up  each  morning  with  nothing  but  admiration  and  knowing  that  she  was  loved  fully  and  intently  ,  with  no  strings  attached--  a  great  love  ,  destined  to  collide  whether  they  knew  it  or  not  ,  whether  they  deserved  it  or  not  ,  it  was  given  to  them  both  .  and  he’d  whisper  it  into  the  crook  of  her  neck  ,  every  night  ,  and  every  sunrise  .  he’d  leave  it  breathless  in  between  a  kiss  ,  with  nuzzled  noises  ,  and  pecks  left  bruised  on  skin  like  marks  of  love  .  he’s  quiet  as  he  watches  her  ,  eyes  drawn  to  her  lips  as  the  words  reached  the  back  of  his  mind  ,  and  his  there’s  a  subtle  flip  in  her  chest  ,  nostalgia  of  a  memory  that  weaved  through  dreams  of  her  laughter  ,  and  the  sun  painted  like  colors  in  her  eyes  .  there’s  a  falter  ,  before  it  shifts  into  a  smile  ,  a  crack  in  the  back  of  his  throat  ,  not  one  delved  from  animosity  or  sadness  ,  but  a  type  of  light  that  was  all  consuming  .  that  heart  of  yours  ,  westley  moon  ,  has  always  been  a  little  bit  too  big  for  that  chest  of  yours  .  and  now  ?  now  it’s  etched  with  her  name  ,  tattooed  on  every  corner  ,  caroline  nicolette---  you  were  his  heart  .  he’s  somehow  inched  forward  ,  the  distance  closing  in  between  her  words  ,  and  the  pad  of  nimble  and  tattooed  fingertips  slipping  the  fabric  of  a  bottom  hem  of  cotton  ,  in  between  his  touch  .  he  shouldn’t  have  kissed  her  that  night----  he’d  told  himself  that  for  a  long  time  ,  weeks  ,  months  -   until  he  kissed  her  again  .  and  again  .  and  he  realized  that  kissing  her  had  never  been  the  problem  .  the  problem  had  been  how  real  it  felt  ,  the  moment  he  did  .  the  problem  ,  was  that  she  wasn’t  ready  for  it  yet  ,  despite  how  desperately  he  wanted  her  ,  even  then  ,  even  now  .  “  leather  and  lace  ..  ”  he  mused  under  his  breath  ,  a  charismatic  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  his  smile  widened  ,  smirk  dimpled  into  the  corner  of  his  cheeks  and  his  nose  wrinkled  playfully  .  “  a  cheap  shot-  ”  he’s  teasing  ,  lips  pursed  ,  because  he  hadn’t  known  about  the  shirt---  hadn’t  thought  about  it  much  other  than  the  fact  that  she’d  always  looked  better  in  it  than  he  had  .  how  if  he  could  ,  he’d  marry  her  in  nothing  short  of  white  ,  but  instead  ,  a  tattered  fleetwood  mac  tee  ,  and  an  onslaught  of  messy  bed  curls  .  still  ,  the  idea  of  being  away  from  her  wasn’t  nothing  short  of  that  same  doubt  ,  sneaking  up  on  him  again  .  what  if  ,  in  the  time  he’s  gone----  she  changes  her  mind  ?  she  won’t-  and  god  ,  he’s  so  sure  ,  but  losing  her  ?  he  wouldn’t  survive  it  . westley  glances  to  the  suitcase  ,  and  just  as  quickly  back  to  a  crystal  gaze  .  “  they  knew  i’d  never  say  yes  ,  without  you  ,  didn’t  they  ?  ”  lips  pursed  ,  and  she  kisses  him  ,  and  he’ll  linger  there  for  a  moment  ,  hands  trailing  up  the  touch  of  a  dainty  wrist  ,  and  the  pads  of  his  thumbs  smoothing  in  circular  motions  .  a  habit--  ,  at  best  .  and  his  gaze  is  immediately  pulled  back  up  to  hers  when  she  nudges  him  ,  emeralds  flickering  across  her  features  ,  and  his  heart  beating  wildly  out  of  control  .  the  same  question  he’d  asked  her  ,  sometimes  before  bed  ,  sometimes  whispered  against  her  mouth   ,  and  other  times  ?  other  times  laughed  in  between  heaves  of  breath  .  now  ,  now  it  was  caught  in  the  back  of  his  throat--  dry  on  nerves  ,  and  he  swallowed  -  hard  .    there’s  a  ring  already  on  her  finger  ,  a  purple  gemstone  on  a  silver  band  that  had  once  been  on  bis  mother’s  hand  because---  westley  moon  ,  you  can’t  propose  to  a  girl  without  a  ring  !  and  so  ,  he’ll  intertwine  their  fingertips  ,  bringing  her  hand  to  the  purse  of  his  lips  ,  and  feather  a  kiss  to  each  digit  ,  until  his  gaze  meets  hers  again  .  he  doesn’t  get  on  one  knee  ,  and  still  makes  proposing  a  charm  all  their  own  .  the  pad  of  his  finger  thumbing  over  the  jewel  ,  and  kissing  the  top  of  her  hand  yet  again  with  a  met  gaze  .  “  i  want  to  marry  you  ,  caroline  nicolette  .  ”  mumbled  against  the  soft  touch  .  “  i  want  to  have  a  life  with  you  ,  and  spend  the  rest  of  mine  making  you  twice  as  happy  as  you  were  the  morning  before  .  i  want---  to  have  kids  with  you  ,  and  have  a  whole  lot  of  fun  practicing  until  then-  ” it’s  woven  in  a  smile  ,  dimpled  and  pursed  .  “ marry  me  .  ”   and  he  steps  forward  ,  smile  turned  into  a  wider  grin  .  “  marry  me  .  ”  this  time  ,   laughter  muffled  in  between  ,  and  he’s  lifting  her  up  ,  wrapping  her  legs  around  his  waist  and  nuzzling  up  into  the  corner  of  her  lips  ,  against  her  nose  ,  and  this  time--  a  whisper  just  for  the  two  of  them  on  flustered  breath  .  “  won’t  you  marry  me  ,  caroline  ?  ”

he’d never been without her, not in awhile. it was strange, to go from traveling all the time, never sticking to one place, to getting homesick the moment you thought about leaving. the card had sitting on his desk for a couple weeks, before he’d meet up with them. it started as a whirlwind, and now he was starting to trend. his manager mentioned it’d be a good time to do some press, that he’d have to spend a couple weeks in los angeles, and yet-- he couldn’t think about leaving. there’s a pit in his stomach, mixed with excitement and dwindling fear. he’s not afraid that she’ll find someone else in his absence, but being away from the love of your life-- it seemed daunting. lips pressed together in a thin line, and he’ll lean on the door frame as she folded the clothes neatly to go in his suitcase. “hey-” quiet, but vocal enough to get her attention. “what if i don’t go?” it’s signed, because his voice would give away the fact that deep down, he wanted to. and somehow, that made him feel selfish. he’d promised caroline that he’d come back for her, that he’d always come home--  for her. and now, now he was leaving. if she could just ask him to stay, if she uttered a single word that made him doubt leaving was a good idea, then he wouldn’t, but something told him--  she already knew that. arms slouched to his sides, and he’s watching her with the softest twinkle of emerald irises. there’s a step forward, feet bare, and he’s taking one of his shirts from the pile, outstretching it to her with the slightest hint of dimples peeking from his cheeks. “this one is yours-” it’s spoken, and his features are gentle when they look back at her. “it’s your favorite, i can’t take it. what’ll you sleep in?” and he’ll reach out, pushing blonde locks behind her ears, and nuzzling his face into her neck, mumbling i love you’s, before pulling back, kissing the corner of her mouth. “i could call my mom-” an offer, maybe giving him some kind of peace at mind knowing caroline had someone here to keep her company. there was always odette-- and she had been on her own before, but he hates the idea. “she could stay for while, help you water the plants..” there’s one plant, and the only reason it was still alive to begin with was because of caroline, and the drizzling rain victoria had to offer. “or-- come with me.. we could make a pitstop.. maybe for a vegas wedding?” 

she’s everything  ,  and he can’t picture a day in his life when she wouldn’t be. truth be told  ,  this was the happiest he’s ever been  .  and  he’s  almost  sure  ,  it  might be the happiest he’ll ever be  ,  but then she proves him wrong  .  each day he wakes up in the morning  ,  happier than the last  ,  as he watches her  breathlessly smile in her sleep  ,  or when he’s watching her from across a stage  ,  and all he can think about is how he can’t wait for the room to be empty  ,  and what it feels like to carry her over the threshold of a tiny one bedroom apartment with a leaky window  .  it’s more than he’d ever ask for  ,  more than he’d ever think someone like himself was capable of having  ,  and keeping  .  even now  ,  as she signs back  ,  he  swore he couldn’t love her more than he did already-- and here she was, proving him wrong as she whisks her chin to her shoulder and spins with a grin that made his heart do fucking somersaults. i love you, i love you, said his eyes, and his mouth-- it curled into summery silence that blended with a smile. “ninety-five percent of my songs.” he’ll sign  ,  still grinning as he’s leaned across the employee side of the bar ,  watching her with twinkling irises that sparkled with magic  ,  that made you want to believe in love at first sight  .  his gaze  momentarily dropped down to the moon necklace  ,  and there goes his heart again  ,  scampering off without him  .  “so pretty baby .” but this time  ,  it’s mused for the world to hear  .  because she deserves that  ,  the world listening to all the songs he’d ever sing about her,  ,  how  the sunshine must have been jealous of the way she radiated  ,  and how the moon fell in love with the way it rises every morning  . so  pretty  .  it repeats in his head as she smiles  ,  signing back  .  “we could still sneak off,” his brows arched, smile turning cheeky into dimples  .  “i can be quick.” he’ll promise  ,  and even cross his hand over his heart  ,  but  it’s  filtered out by another breathy smile--  it was starting to hurt, smiling this much. but his mind kept ghosting back to the way her mouth looks like when it’s parted with fluttered eyes, and how it quickens that beating in his chest to a drum  roll  .  she’ll  tug him forward by the collar of his shirt  ,  and he lets her--  his mouth parting slightly, eyes loomed down to the curve of her mouth as she spoke  .  he’d given plenty of excuses before as to why he was looking at her lips  ,  each one he could have easily gotten away with  .  but now? now it was record with thoughts and memories of what they looked like kissing down the slope of his chest  ,  or muffled with his name  ,  and his throat feels dry  ,  even now--  even still  ,  with the close proximity  .  people kept warning him  ,  that’s the honeymoon phase  ,  it’ll wear itself off eventually  .  but as time passes  ,  it only seems to get stronger  .  the butterflies didn’t dim  ,  they turned into buzzing bees and he couldn’t get enough of her  .  his hand instinctively finds the slope of her wrist as she inches forward and up to his chin  ,  waiting until the gentle press of her lips against the corner of his mouth  ,  before bringing her fingertips up to his  ,  and  pressing  delicate kisses to the slope of her hand  .  i love you  ,  i love you--  said his eyes  ;  and that’s all he ever wants her to feel---  loved  .  from this moment  ,  from every moment after this one  ,  until he’s grey and barking at a kid all their own  .  he wants her to love  ,  and be loved  , and happiness will be found in the simplicity of romance  ,  and his home that tethered to a girl with long blonde hair  ,  and bell bottom jeans  .  “i love you.” it’s signed  ,  carefully letting go of her hands  ,  but still remaining just as close  ,  watching her as she speaks  ,  and  a quizzical furrow placed between his brows  .  it’s not the first time she asked-- but prior had been to him admitting that he was in love with her  ,  and that if this wasn’t enough for him- to spare her heart the ache  .  it was to a muffled proposal of forever  ,  and her making him promise that he’ll come back to her   ,  no matter what  .  “i want--” he’ll pause  ,  glancing over the crowd again  .  how music had always brought people together  ,  how it made it feel something in a world that was nevertheless void of emotion  . there’s a quiet pause  ,  before he’ll turn his attention back to peering blue eyes  ,  waiting for an answer  .  “music has never been about arenas  ,  or tours-- or  maybe  ,  it  was at one point--” he can’t remember what it was like before he lost his hearing anymore  ,  or the person he was before it  .  maybe he had been a little more selfish then  ,  maybe he wanted a taste of what fame could have done for him- for his family that grew up with each other  ,  more than it did anything else  .  but even then  ,  he can’t think of a time when it mattered more than the power behind a song . “i want people to remember what it’s like to feel something.” he finally adds  ,  this time without signing  ,  but with his words instead  .  “music makes people happy .” you could hate a lot of things  ,  but nobody truly hated music  .  there was a simplicity in the way it made you feel whole again  .  “everyone is so sad ..” it’s quiet  ,  meant for the two of them  .  and it’s true  ,  because he’d watched her sit at a table  ,  with a blank look in dwindling blue eyes, and he saw the way they lit up when he played her favorite song. “i want people to believe in magic again.” whether it was an arena  ,  whether it was a quiet pub at o’malleys  ---  the world need a westley  ,  whether he knew it or not  .  “but ,” soft  ,  and  he’ll allow his index finger to softly trace down the bridge of her nose  ,  and down the the curve of her lower brim  ,  touching there with the pad of his thumb  .  “i want to be with you-” 

love  ,  what  an  understatement  .  the  sky  could  have  parted  with  the  same  warmth  that  she  gave  him  with  a  smile  ,  he  was  sure  of  it  .  it  could  have  melted  icecaps  ,  and  plunged  into  summer  with  the  embrace  of  aphrodite  .  he  could  find  love  in  everything  she  did  ,  from  the  way  he’d  found  her  in  a  crowd  ,  in  ever  crowd  after  that  .  he’d  find  love  in  the  way  blue  eyes  sparkled  when  she  said  his  name-  though  lost  on  silent  ears  .  he  could  have  fell  in  love  again  and  again  ,  day  after  day  ,  even  if  you  took  away  every  memory  they  ever  had  together  .  he  was  sure  ,  in  any  lifetime  ,  he’d  still  choose  her  .  a  girl  with  sunshine  in  her  smile  ,  and  whisks  of  blonde  hair  ,  and  no  name  to  match  the  caller  id  on  his  phone  .  he  can  feel  the  expression  ,  recognized  by  the  way  it  tasted   on  the  corner  of  a  kiss  ,  and  how  many  times  he’d  get  lost  in  a  room  just  by  doing  so  .  his  heart  ached  with  all  the  adoration  he  held  for  this  girl  ,  for  someone  he  planned  on  marrying  ,  everyday  until  she  said  yes  .  he’d  tease  her  ,  in  the  morning  afternoon  sun  ,  as  he  nuzzles  into  her  neck  ,  without  a  shirt  ,  pulling  her  tighter  into  his  embrace  .  you’re  going  to  marry  me  ,  caroline  nicolette--  if  it’s  the  last  thing  i  do  .  and  the  last  bit  ,  taunted  with  laughter  as  he  tickled  her  under  the  hem  of  his  favorite  shirt  . or  in  quiet  nights  ,  when  the  rest  of  the  world  was  asleep  ,  and  the  only  thing  that  fitted  through  the  tiny  apartment  was  a  string  of  littered  clothes  in  a  pathway  to  the  bedroom  ,  under  tangled  sheets  with  his  frame  pressed  atop  the  small  of  hers  .  his  hands  would  tuck  her  chin  up  in  breathless  whispers  ,  pulling  her  on  top  of  him  with  a  dimpled  smile  .  marry  me  ,  slightly  under  an  husky  sigh  ,  and  a  smile  as  he  leaned  up  to  kiss  the  down  the  corner  of  her  jaw  ,  and  every  inch  after  that  .  and  even  in  the  heated  argument  of  something  small  ,  of  nerves  tested  by  spending  so  much  time  together  that  their  quarrels  even  seemed  silly  ;  if  you  can’t  stand  to  look  at  me  ,  then  just  marry  me  instead  !  before  the  fight  would  break  into  half-whitted  grins  ,  and  she’d  try  her  damnedest  not  to  smile  back  .  she  was  stubborn  like  that   .  “no  ,”  he  finally  answered  ,  green  eyes  humming  with  sparkled  mischief.  “i write all my songs about you.” she  had  only  known  about  the  one  ,  for  now-- but  there  was  a  journal  sitting  on  his  night  stand  ,  covered  in  pages  and  pages  of  songs  that  spilled  out  the  truth  of  how  much  he’d  love  her--  every  second  of  every  day  ,  if  she’d  let  him  .  but  god--  she’d  make  him  work  for  it  ,  and  he  loved  her  more  for  that  ,  too  .  his  fingertips  hooked  through  the  belt  loop  of  her  jeans  ,  and  he’ll  still  waver  endearingly  close  to  her,  despite  a  crowded  room  .  he  doesn’t  need  to  hear  to  know  people  were  smirking-  he  could  feel  them  watching  ,  but  westley  hadn’t  cared  .  “don’t be silly-” he’s musing with adoration  ,  kissing her cheek again  ,  and  again  before  pulling  back  with  a  laugh  .  “it’s  just  another  friday  night  ,  baby-” and  he’s  signing  now  ,  instead  of  speaking--  which  he  does  sometimes  now  ,  absentmindedly  --  knowing  she  can  understand  him  better  as  the  months  go  on  .  leaning  over  the  counter  ,  he’ll  push  himself  up  and  over  the  bar  ,  without  first  being  swatted  by  seamus  .  “aye  ,  boy!  if  i’ve  got  to  tell  yee’  one more  time  to  get  of  my  counter  ,  i’m  going  to--” he’s  cut  of  by  rosie  ,  and  she’s  patting  him  on  the  chest  .  “hush  now  o’malley  ,  the  boy  has  funded  your  retirement  .”  followed  by  a  grumble  from  the  other  ,  and  a  wink  from  rosie  as  she  leads  him  astray  .  meanwhile  ,  westley  grins  wide  and  dimpled  with  a  laugh  ,  pulling  a  glass  from  behind  the  bar  ,  and  pouring  himself  a  guinness  .  he’ll  lean  in  the  spot  where  o’malley  was  standing  prior  ,  elbows  on  the  bar  as  he  looked  up  at  the  blonde  with  a  sip  .  “do  they  know  that  i’m  hopelessly  in  love  with  you?”  he’ll  sign  again  in  silence  through  a  cheeky  smirk  ,  taking  another  swig  before  setting  it  aside  .  he’s  still  close  to  her  ,  because  it  might  be  physically  impossible  for  him  not  to  be  .  his  eyes  drifted  around  the  crowd  of  people  ,  laughing  ,  eating---  sharing  drinks  ,  and  then  back  to  a  doe  eyed  blonde  that  makes  his  heart  still  jump  .  “look  at  you-”  still  in  quiet  conversation  as  he’ll  sign  ,  stepping  back  as  if  to  get  a  better  view  ,  grin  playfully  widening  .  “tell  me  to  end  the  set  right  now  ,  and  i’ll  carry  you  over  my  shoulder  upstairs  .” he’s  being  bold  ,  because  the  likelihood  of  people  knowing  asl  is  always  slim  .  another  smirk  ,  and  he’ll  wrinkle  his  nose  until  she  scolds  him  and  tells  him  to  behave  .  “kiss  you ..”  signed  slower  ,  with  a  nonchalant  shrug  that  was  still  ,  entirely  mischievously  charming  .  

it was no longer small friday nights surrounded by a little pub, and locals.  the room reflected of gold and crowds too big for the size of o’malleys,  people herded all the way out the door, into the street. tonight was different, but not for westley moon. there was a man in the crowd, with a suit that tailored money and his drink order was nothing short of hollywood. he’ll stand next to the bar, because there isn’t a seat that hasn’t been taken already, next to a blonde he hasn’t noticed. no, because he’s here business, somewhere somehow, caught wind of a magic boy, caught playing in a bar with no shoes, and a line down the street just to listen. and westley, as charismatic as ever, leaned into the microphone, and taps his nose and points to a girl with blue eyes. “we’re going to wind it down a bit-” halfway laughter, and he’ll pull away from the mic before leaning into it again. “it’s a slow one, if you’ve had your eyes on tonight-” he glances at caroline, the corners of his cheeks dimpling. “take a chance, and ask them to dance-” a pause as the crowd playfully woo’s back at him. “or ask her to marry you again-” eyes dart playfully across the room, and his nose wrinkles. “she can’t possibly say no with all of you watching--” it’s teasing, and the crowd gets louder as he laughs again. “alright--” he’ll clear his throat, and they simmer down. you could feel the anticipation, the silence. “i wrote this one for a girl,” brows lifted, and he’ll find her again. “on the floor of a motel room.” he’ll swallow, because she hasn’t heard it-- because he doesn’t normally play his own music, but interpretations of classics. pull back, he’ll set up the microphone on a keyboard, dusty and pulled from one of  seamus’s closets. leaning into the mic again, the keys are the first you hear-- written for piano, for sentiment only she would know. “i’m in bed, and you’re not here-” it’s slow, echoed in the silence of the room, everyone stilled-- but a man from hollywood who didn’t need to be persuaded to sign this kid. the stranger from another city, crossed his arms over his chest, watching intently, the crowd-- and how people sat on the edge of their seats just to listen to a boy, who couldn’t even hear his own voice. his pitch was trusted on gut, and words of muffled under his breath. and by now, he’s made the connection between the girl at his side, and the enigma on stage. dots quickly connected, this kid was far too in love to ever leave this place on his own. when the song ends, he’ll order another drink and wait to approach the blonde until the next song. “people would sell out arenas for that boy of yours.” it’s a quiet approach, and he’s reaching into his coat pocket, finishing the top shelf glass, before outstretching a card to her. “if you’d like--” he’ll nod at the card, blockbuster music imprinted in bold letters. “they could.” he’ll pull his jacket from the side of the bar, and toss it over his forearm. “he loves you far too much to say yes to me, but.. think about it..” and with that, he’s on his toes, and wavering through a crowd of people. meanwhile, westley is hopping off stage after finishing his last set, only to be greeted by five or six people on his way to caroline. 

every day he’s falling more in love with her. he falls in love with the way blue eyes reflect sunshine, or the way she scrunches her nose through playful laughter, he falls in love with her when the rest of the world has gone to bed, but they’re awake with the moon, and three am showers, and how she’s always looked better in his favorites shirts than he did. being with anybody else wasn’t an option, which is why every morning, and every friday night, he’d ask her to marry him. over the table at breakfast when she’s waiting for her oatmeal to cool, or under the breath of guinness that he hasn’t managed to spill on her again, he’d whisper it in promises when he thinks she’s already asleep against his chest. you’re going to marry me someday, caroline nicolette. whether it’s a sunday afternoon, or late one friday evening. whether it’s when he gives her a ring with black silver and a tiny amethyst his mom had worn for as long as he can remember. whether--  it was in front of all their friends, or two strangers and a judge--- she was going to marry him, and he’d wait forever on the chance of a someday with her, than the certainty of a tomorrow with anyone else. and his heart swells, bubbling in his chest with warm as dimples caught the corners of his cheeks. in a forever kind of way-- that’s what he wanted  ,  it was a forever kind of love. the kind of love that finds each other, over and over again- from the corner of each universe, made from the same star, the same moon, the same kinda’ magic. he’ll nuzzle forward, keeping his eyes locked on the way her lips curved when she said it--  deafened ears for the first time, knowing what it would have been like to hear. it would have been the same buzzing warmth, the same adrenaline, the same rush of the future playing like a record in his head. it’d be the same wave of certainty, certain that she loves him--- and that he loves her, that he’s always loved her. he loved the girl who say on the other side of an outside table, with sad blue eyes, and her chin propped softly in her hand-- the same girl that would wonder into the same bar, after he’d been drinking-- the same girl he’d play her favorite song for, over and over again. the same girl, who’s light slowly returned to pale cheeks, and the same girl who guarded her heart so viciously, she was afraid nobody would be able to scale the walls she’d built. he’d fall in love with a girl, who among many other things, was beautiful inside as she was out. a girl that loved his mother, and vice versa-- a girl who made him want to stay, for the first time in his life. “i wish i could tell you..” he starts, and his voice cracks-- he can’t hear it, but he can feel it in his throat. “how much, of everyday..” he’ll lean forward, smiled through a kiss before pulling  back again. “i want you forever.” fingertips brushed along the sides of her cheeks, over the highs of rosy apples, and tucking fly aways back behind her ear. “i can’t wait to marry you, caroline nicolette.” 

westley moon, love had never been a foreign concept to you. for a boy born with hearts in his eyes, and twice the size of love in his heart, given and tended to by women who carried the same ounce of magic in their eyes--- it was to be expected that he fell in love twice on a sunday afternoon, and out of it with monday morning blues. but with caroline, the song reminds him of what it must have been like to love a girl that walked like springtime. and now, tonight, his hands are placed on the small of her back, his hand in hers, and barefoot with the exception of his socks as he steps from side to side, leading them. it’s softer this time, not interrupted by the sound of a cracking fist, or interrupted phone calls from a girl he could have never really loved as vividly and as brightly as he’d already been with caroline. to be honest, he was in love with her before this, on the floor of a motel room, with a guitar in his hands and the melody to her favorite song memorized by heart long before they met. he’d sing her favorite song a second time, after they were married. and he would---- marry her. he wasn’t expecting anything from this, he was patient with her- and he was learning to be something he’d never been before. he was patient, when it came to being her friend, to knowing her and the past that followed that weighed on a careful heart-- and it’s why he loved her, why he decided that he had. because she’d known pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and the mere thought of living without her---was like a world void of sunlight, like a world dimmed of a special kind of magic all her own. he’d never been a religious man, but he’d pray to god if there was one-- that they never take this away from him. and if they do, he’d bear it- so she wouldn’t have to. he’d live in a world without her, knowing that if fate were as cruel as he never believed it to be, she wouldn’t survive it a second time. but she confirms that she loves him, and it’s like rain, thundering in his chest and vibrantly allowing it grow, watering the roots that were planted with her name in their petals. he’ll swallow,  and she taps the tip of his nose, their dance slowing to a stop without him realizing it. “you love me?” it’s quiet, and emeralds appear brighter than before, stung with happiness that water long lashes. he’ll nuzzle forward, fingertips unraveled underneath the small of her jaw, dipped back into blonde tresses as he tipped her chin up into his embrace. he’ll kiss her, and it’s light, pulling back and smiling dimpled, cascading a warm gaze, before pulling her back into another kiss, this one deeper, and halfway broken by happy laughter. 

love, he’s loved her from the moment he saw her outside that bar. he loved her damn near every moment after that. and being friends with caroline, was easily the hardest and most rewarding thing he’d ever done. it’s what makes her different--- different from the faded name inked in his skin, and different from all the flings of romance that were passionate but short lived. this was entirely new to him, to wake up every morning and want to see her, to watch her, to love by her every day that went on-- and for the rest of the days he was set to live on a earth luckily at the same time as caroline nicolette. she hadn’t changed him, as some might say. you leashed the boy, but a leopard doesn’t change his spots. but the thing is, he’s always been this way. yes his affection had been fleeting before, but it was his love for city lights that outweighed him. his love for adventure. meanwhile, everyday with her felt like a new town, the same adrenaline he got from being on stage, or in a city that doesn’t know his first name. not yet. she didn’t tame him, and the others didn’t last because they weren’t his future--- they weren’t his forever. bowie always told her son, under the flickering porch light of a tiny studio, when you know you’ll know and not a moment sooner. and he knew, like he knew the shade of blue in her eyes, or the way she reached out to touch him in the backseat of a limo, or the kindness that unraveled in her smile. it was all affirmation to this--- he loved her, and he would always love her. it’s why he dances with her, under the quiet tones of fleetwood mac, and a playlist of songs she’d whisper under his breath-- and he’d only wished he could hear. his hand finds the small of her back, while the other interlaces with hers. they’re closer than the formality of dance carmichaels were used to-- posture, and an appropriate space apart. no, you could barely fit a piece of construction paper between the two of them now. leaning down, his gaze is almost fluttered shut, seconds above her ear as he leans against her temple. “ we could be magic-- you know?  ” and it’s whispered, because if she were to answer like this, he couldn’t read it unless he pulled back some. but he doesn’t need an answer-- he just wants her to know, wants the world to know. 

love comes as freely as breathing, with westley moon. and with his birthday finally in sight, the only thing he wanted to do was make valentines day special for her instead. if he had one wish, it’d be for her to finally say yes. to dance with him,  like he wanted to that first night she’d given him no name and a vague number. or months after that, when they attended a carmichael event. or even, almost a year later. when he’s grown roots in a bar that was far too small for the crowds that winded up on friday nights, looking for a little bit of starlight. “seamus would have turned belly up if he was forced to watch this romantic nonsense-” as he would say, but then find rosie the perfect singular flower, of her favorite color-- each year something different for her to plant in the bushes out on a tiny patio. no, believe it or not, semus o’malley was a romantic, under the hue of dark eyes and whiskered grey. westley will lean  into her embrace, his smile wild and warm and dimpled as he gazes down at her with eyes of green. “how does forever sound?” whispered in a grin, nudging forward, and nuzzling her with his nose as his heartbeat quickened-- even still. his hands tilt just below either sides of her jaw, softly addressing her to look at him before he’s leaning forward, and kissing her. he wants to marry this girl. and someday, she’d say yes to that too. “it’s valentines day--  it’s magic, you know?” signed and teasing, before he’s pressed against her cheek in a peck, and taking her hands in his. “but first..” hands sign, and then holding up an index finger, before he’s slip[ed off his shoes, black socks slick against the dusky hardwood floors-  to feel the music better. 

the night when by quicker than he had anticipated. it seemed like every show was getting quicker and quicker to his favorite part of the night----  caroline. she’d been sleeping at his, in a shoebox of a apartment, wearing his shirts, answering the phone when his mom called, or when he hadn’t realized the line had been ringing. she was there, watching him from across the bar with a soft glow around her, it reminded him the closest thing to angel’s halo, as tattooed fingertips would ever get. but tonight was different, he’d had planned something for when the chairs were stacked and the brush of fame had gone home until another friday night. brows perked up, and he’s leaning on the bar, hanging up the last bit of dried glasses around the pub. “you know, i could get used to this.” the life, with her. the bar, their friends. he’d never had a home, never felt so tied with roots buried so deep. but with caroline, she made you want to believe in the magic of being in love. and westley, well, he would love her forever and a day-- he was sure of it. nonetheless, he’ll hop of the bar, and scoot to the other side, before landing on his feet. “i had a surprise.” with it, taking her hand and interlocking their fingertips, pulling her lightly to the corner of the room. “i told you one day you’d say yes so--” he’ll flick the lights off, and with a switch new ones twinkled from around a green and gold pub. “dance with me.” 

to a boy who could make anything romantic  ,  his life had seemed to change on a whirlwind  .  he had a restless heart  ,  that’s what they said about him---  and maybe they weren’t completely wrong  ,  either  .  as time seemed to stop around him  ,  in every little bar  ,  in every town he found himself in  ,  just to leave before it felt too much like home---  he had a string of hearts left in it’s place  .  a romance for every city  ,  a lover for every town  ,  and it was easy-  to fall in love with the rise of a moon  .  but he’d never felt like this before  ,  he’d never had to work so hard---  for someone to look at him the way strangers did underneath the glow of a stage light  .  he never had to pine for someone  ,  he never knew them fully  ,  without fault- and why they made the choices they did  .  he never got to know the man behind the bar  ,  with the same last name as the sign in neon lights outside  .  he never got to know the story of a wife he’d fallen in love with  ,  who was simple and yet kind  .  he’d never know that his wife got fell ill in the summer of 71′,  and how his entire life shifted on an axle it was built on  .  he’d never know how an old musician  ,  would hang up his guitar and buy a pub in the states as fresh start  .  he’d never know how that same man  ,  grew cold over years of being alone---  only to come alive with the spark of sunshine and a rosie smile  .  how he’d almost gone grey before they’d met  ,  and how they had no kids of their own-- but still danced together on friday nights  .  he’d never know of a girl  ,  with the same last name as the one he’d quite literally  ,  ran  into  ,  carried the weight of a bossy ponytail with a punctual bounce----  because her life before now had been incredibly  ,  entirely  ,  out of control  .  he’d never know what it was like to know someone so genuine  ,  and  so  sad  ,  with the same blue eyes that must have ran in the family  . a girl who quite frankly  ,  was out of his ballgame entirely the night he’d spilled guinness down her dress  . he wouldn’t know that she had loved  ,  and been loved ,  greater than before-  but different than he loved her now  .  wonderfully wondrous  ,  all it’s own  .  he’d never know how easy it was  ,  to fall  ,  too  . he’d never know how hard it was to try with someone else  ,  who was perfectly good in her own right----   but simply  ,  not good for him  .  he’d never know how hard it was to say goodbye  ,  until blue eyes pleaded for him to stay  .   and he can see  ,  the fear that slipped under the surface of rosy cheeks and to the corners of crinkles eyes  .  he can see the way she’s hesitant  ,  the way that same restless heart was tethered on strings of fate and what ifs  .  how the same hands that caressed through long blonde hair  ,  early in the sunrise  ,  were inked with another’s name  .  and emeralds take her in  ,  each fluttered gaze  ,  and each way her mouth moved as deaf words spoke directly to the dip in his chest  .  “ i know . ”  it’s soft  ,  light-  but the conversation itself had never been more serious  .  he had never been more serious  .  it wasn’t fair  ,  to tell her he loved her- that he could wait---  but it wouldn’t be fair to either of them to not tell her what he was waiting for  .  he was waiting for the day she woke up  ,  and she realized the fall was over  ,  and she’d landed safely at the bottom unscathed  .  he’d wait for the day  ,  she didn’t flinch at the word love  ,  or the future  .  “ i’ve never lied to you  . ”  quiet  ,  because he was incapable  .  of lying to her  ,  of lying to anyone-- partially because he was awful with it  ,  and how the guilt would eat him from the inside out until the truth found it’s way to the surface  .  and why- it was so easy to tell someone how you felt for westley  ,  so easy to hide the promise of prolonged hurt by the tucked tail of a white lie  .  digits are unclad and inked  ,  slipped through her hair and tilt her jaw up  ,  his nose nuzzling against her with fondness only love could warm  .  and he did  .  he loves her  ,  he loves her  ,  he loves her  .  “ and you  ?  not  enough ? caroline nicolette-”  his forehead pressed against hers  ,  words hushed as they’re savored for a whispered promise  . however  ,  dark emeralds fluttered open again  ,  holding her gaze with an intent that burned far beyond the wick of a candle  .  “ you are-----   everything . ” so sure  ,  so unreliably sure ,  that he would have never known---  what real love felt like  ,  if he had never leaped  .   and he’ll shift over the weight of her move  ,  of pressing smile lines into the corner of his cheek  ,  down the slope of his jaw like butterfly kisses  .  and with it  ,  his breath is held in fine moments  . “ i’d promise you anything . ” he’ll assure  ,  hands dipped down from the slope of her chin  ,  to the nape of her neck  .  his index  ,  sloped in a fine line  ,  feathers beneath her collarbones  ,  tracing art with invisible brushes  .  “ i’ve been in love with you from the first day you walked into the bar .” his tone still low  ,  still barely an hitch above anything savored for just the two of them  .  “ it wasn’t at the bar .. ”  a secret  ,  quiet and for himself  .  “ it was drizzling  ,  and i was setting up--  o’malley had the speakers in his truck .” and he’s still tracing lines  ,  down the cotton of his favorite shirt---  though now  ,  anything she wore of his was  .  “ you didn’t see me-----   but i saw you ..”  there’s a harsh swallow in the back of his throat  ,  and he shakes his head  .  “you  were wearing that dress-  the one i almost ruined  .  and you were sitting on the corner of this outside patio  ,  of the restaurant on the corner  .  your mom was there  ,  and a table full of women talking  .  but you were quiet  .  and i just remember---  stopping  ,  like everything suddenly didn’t matter  ,  like how i wanted more than anything to wish i was playing at that bar that night  ,  instead of o’malleys  .  i remember  ,  because you looked so-”  beautiful  ,  but sad  ,  quiet  ,  lost in thought  .  “and then they played leather and lace  ,  and for whatever reason  ,  you smiled to yourself  .”  there’s a long pause  ,  and he’s sucking in a breath  .  “then it started pouring  ,  and i ruined the speakers .” wes’ gaze smirked  ,  flickering back to meet hers as she shifted her weight from under him  .  “i owed him three hundred dollars before the end of my first set- but for whatever reason ..  they wanted me to come back . and then  ,  you walked in .” he doesn’t miss a beat  ,  he doesn’t look away  ,  because this is important to him--  to them  ,  to their someday if it ever came  .  “  i do have a restless heart  ,  caroline  .  but it’s not because i’m going to wake up one day and this isn’t going to be enough  .  it’s restless  ,  because i’m excited---  because i’ve been hopelessly in love with you since the first day i stepped back into this town  .  and i don’t want it  ,  if you’re not there  .” there’s a quiet shrug  ,  and he shakes my head . “ marry me  ,  and i’ll spend every day making sure you wake up happy  .  i’ll sing you leather and lace in the shower-” brows waggled teasingly  ,  and his nose scrunched  ,  bringing her hands up to kiss the sides of coupled fingertips  .  “ i’ll make you terrible  ,  terrible breakfast every morning  .  i’ll bring you home a new pin ,  from wherever i go  .  ---  i’ll take you with me  ,  if that’s what you want  .  but i promise  ,  it’ll always be you  .  i promise that i’ll make sure you keep falling a little bit in love with me  ,  every night .” another pecker of kisses across her knuckles  .  “you’re it for me  ,  caroline . i’ll never love anyone the way i love you .” 

thinking about it was easy  .  dreaming about it  ,  even easier  .  he spent most of his nights singing to a girl across the bar who wasn’t his  ,  and his heart lurched in his chest  ,  into the back of a dry throat  .  brows are furrowed  ,  and emerald eyes are caretaking to the way her voice cracks ,  and to how even now---  with his head spinning  ,  he just wants to comfort her  .  it’s not like you want to leave  ,  is it? but adventures are coated in pixie dust  ,  and the longer you stay here  ,  the more likely it is that you’re growing up  .  and living in a world where you couldn’t have her  ,  was almost too painful to bear anymore  .  it’s why you sent the text  ,  why you made rash decisions  ,  and why he was almost settled on leaving entirely  .  but words shook through his steel traps  ,  with the thoughts of being wrong about this once before  .  she’s moving forward  ,  and he doesn’t budge  .  because sentences replay like a vintage record  ,  scratched and on repeat  .  is it because of her? ---- her with blue eyes  ,  and a daunting smile  .  her with a mystery tagged on the back of her heel  .  her  ,  who sees him completely and entirely  ,  and still takes him for who he is  .  her  ,  who his mother loved and their friends adored  .  her  ,  who he’d gotten to know over a period of time he never had the luxury of before  .  her  ,  with whisky lashes and a smile that felt like home  .  there’s a pause of quiet  ,  and his heart still butterfly patters at the sight of signing  .  lips pursed  ,  flickering a gaze down to the bag and the cotton of fabric t-shirts that were packed on top  ;  and how dainty fingertips still tugged at the hems  .  he had never been nervous before a show  ,  and yet the only time he’s ever felt it-- is when she’s shaking  ,  or looking back at him with a pleading gaze  ,  or sitting on the carpet of a motel room in between two made beds  .  he never felt nervous  ,  until he met her and she refused to tell him her name  ,  or when she sped at light speed for someone so courageous  .  he never felt nervous  ,  until the first time she had stared at him from behind a camera lens  ,  off stage  .  he’d never felt nervous until he almost lost her  ,  and how many times he’d been wrong  .  the car ride  ,  the motel  ,  the piano  ,  the dancing  ,  the camping  , all the way up until the last moments of a relationship that was hardly anything more than a dream of something he wasn’t quite  .  a rose colored film  ,  that brightened the apples of his cheeks  .  and there was nothing wrong with molly  ,  other than the fact that she simply-- wasn’t caroline  .  “that’s not what i want .” he finally adds  ,  and to the realization that it might have been vague  ,  or misconstrued ,  he stepped forward  ,  trying to catch her gaze without crossing more boundaries  ;  without finding the line  ,  without putting himself in a position he has once before  .  “i don’t want you to fall in love with anyone else .” it’s lighter  ,  maybe even a little bit raspy  ,  but his voice is softer this time  ;  barely audible if the silence hadn’t tugged it’s way into the bedroom  .  “i want--” there’s an invisible line he doesn’t cross  ,  because fear has ticked away a subconscious thought into the back of his head  .  “i want you to love me .” and it’s miraculously honest  ,  in a way that only moonlight can bring out  .  “because i think i’ve been in love with you since that first night when you wondered into the bar- and it’s been---- i used to think i’ve been in love plenty of times  ,  and then you came along and i know you don’t have any reason to believe me- but--” lips are dry  ,  and he purses them to create a hint of moisture  ,  sucking in a breath that seemed to be lodged into the back of his throat  .  “i’ve never lied to you  .  and being just your friend is probably the best and worst thing to ever happen to me .” because it made him realize  ,  infatuation wasn’t love  .  that falling in love three times a night  ,  with a string of hearts attached to your bootleg with nothing to show for it--- wasn’t a muscian’s curse .  it was a moon tide  ,  and caroline had been drawn to the same ocean  ;  and every night  ,  he’d watch her walk the banks of crashed waves  ,  stuck in a crescent and falling each morning when the sun came back up  .    “but i’ve--” ruffling through his hair  ,  his voice almost cracks  .  “i’ve been wrong before .” months prior  ,  with fingertips entangled under golden locks  .  “ask me to stay  ,  but only if you’re sure  .  okay?” emerald eyes found hers again  ,  and his brows softened  .  “i don’t know if i could survive it a second time .” 

westley almost always knows what to say  .  he almost always knows where to go  ,  or where the road is going to take him  .  but when it comes to caroline  ,  everything seems to be a question mark  . his head is jarring  ,  spinning on it’s axle and he doesn’t know what to make of this-- of any of it  .  and she’s right  ,  it’s selfish  ;  for both parties  .  standing to his feet  ,  he’s watching and reading what she has to say  ,  but it’s still not an answer he’s looking for  .  and he’s tired-- exhausted  ,  of trying to crack the code that was caroline nicolette  .  a girl that lost a great love  ,  and how the pain of losing him has wiped her clean of any chance of ever wanting more ,  ever again  .  and that’s okay  ,  that’s her choice- and somehow along the way  ,  he’d made peace with it  .  but now  ,  it was getting harder and more difficult  .  “molly likes ties  ,  and suit jackets-- and fancy dinners that quite frankly aren’t worth the money  .” a pause  ,  and he’ll loosen his jaw a bit  .  “money that i don’t have  ,  and money that i don’t want  .” a memory surfaces  , and a conversation he had with a brunette leaned on his shoulder on the car ride home  .  they had been out with friends  ,  and somewhere along the way was a man with a business card--  and an entry way to hollywood  ,  sold out arenas  ,  crowds that would travel from around the world- just to listen to him  .  you should take it  .  she’ll hum against his neck  ,  with a feather hearted smile  .  we could go together  .  and yet  ,  the idea of leaving this town then  ,  had been enough to turn down the offer  .  leaving the little gold and green bar  ,  with a flat above it  .  leaving a couple that had treated him like family from the moment he wondered in downstairs  .  leaving a girl  ,  with bright blue eyes that loved fleetwood mac  .  and now--- realization dawned on him under the lights of a stage  ,  and he didn’t forget h lyrics to her favorite song because he’d drank too much  .  he stumbled over the words  ,  because she wasn’t there- and it hurt  .  “jesus caroline-” he’s rubbing his hands over his face  ,  and this fight-- the back and forth of arguing over---- god he doesn’t even know what anymore  .  the avoiding questions  ,  the one step forward to take two back  .  “i’m tired of guessing  ,  alright?” signed in frustration but his voice is cracked under the weight of the world  ,  too  .  “you’re right-- it’s selfish  .  it was selfish for me to even try to be with molly  ,  and it’s selfish that you’re even here right now telling me you don’t want me to go to new york because of it’s people---- instead of the whatever real reason you’re not telling me  .  and it’s selfish of molly to try to mold me into something she knew i wasn’t  .  we’re all selfish----  all of us  .  you  ,  me  ,  molly  ,  odette -- noel   .  because we’re people  ,  and people are unreliably  ,  undoubtedly  ,  selfish  . and-- it’s okay  . ” especially when they’re tired  ,  especially when they don’t wholly know what it is that they want  .  but westley did  ,  and he had for awhile  .  “i stayed because i wanted to be around you  .  and i like the pub  ,  and i like making music-- i backed off because you wanted me to  .  i started dating molly because you thought it was a good idea  . i promised nothing changed ,  because that’s what you wanted! -  god  ,  i played half my set because it was your favorite songs  ,  and i set boundaries because you’re the one he kept crossing them  . i wanted you to come to that event  ,  i hit vincent because of something he said to you  .  i went on that camping trip because you were going to be there  ,  and i took molly because i thought it might make you more comfortable  . ” and westley  ,  you’re not trying to be harsh  .  your tone isn’t slicked down in ice  ,  it’s not edged to a point--  but it’s confused  ,  and it’s exasperated at best  .  “new york  ,  and for once-- coincidentally  ,  it has nothing to do with you  .  seamus has a brother with a bar downtown  ,  and he said it’d be good to branch out  .” and yet  , in some ways  ,  it had everything to do with her  .  because he couldn’t stay here  ,  not when he felt the way he did  .  “you go back to the city every year  ,  you said it yourself  .  you didn’t leave because there’s no magic in the city  .  so why don’t you want me to go?" lips pursed  ,  and emeralds had focused on her from his spot across the room  .  there’s a light shrug from his shoulders  ,  and he’s sucking in a breath  .  “you’re not losing me .”  and there’s a but on the end of that sentence  ,  as he’ll shake his head with a matched gaze that softens at the sight of misty blue eyes  .  “so far-- i’ve been wrong this entire time  ,  and the only thing that feels right --- is getting on a bus tomorrow morning  .” and there’s a silent pause  .  “why didn’t you come to the show tonight?” a repeat  ,  because he wants an answer  .  

the air in the room is shifted  ,  and for awhile --- he can feel it in his chest  .  there’s a rumbling of nerves that have dig beneath the surface of his skin  .  his head is clouded with a thunder storm  ,  and it shades rays of moonlight from reaching his eyes  .  instead  ,  she’s flickering a post from the illumination of her phone  ,  and his tongue presses against his jaw to loosen the tense muscles that flexed beneath  .  it’s not that he doesn’t want his mother to know-- bowie was on his instagram  ,  after all  .  but something about the subject at hand made him uneasy in how comfortable the two of them were  .  there was a reason he hadn’t let many girlfriends  ,  nor boyfriends--  come back with him during the holidays  .  and he wasn’t ashamed of molly  ,  she was beautiful and smart  ,  and kind  .  but the fact that this was becoming all too comfortable  ,  set off an alarm that shouldn’t have been registered in the first place  .  and he’s trying  ,  god --- he’s really trying to keep caroline at arm’s length  .  their kiss was months old  ,  and every time he lingered for too long  ,  it was brought up like fresh memories  .  “westley moon-” his mother scolds with playful laughter  ,  taking the phone and raising her brows with a laugh  .  “you hate ties!” both women exclaimed  ,  in one way or another  .  and he narrows his gaze playfully  ,  rolling his eyes and swallowing the feeling of discomfort  .  “not for her .” and the room shifts again  ,  this time the atmosphere leading bowie to count the glances between the two of them  .  she’ll purse her lips with a smile  ,  and she’ll nod her head  ,  standing to her feet  .  “i’m sure she’s lovely-” as most of the people that dated her son were  ,  except for maybe a few bad apples here and there  .  the last one  ,  and the one that kept reminding her of an ink stanked wrist on a perfect boy  . “i’m on the other hand-- all out of wine  .  i’m gonna’ go downstairs and fluster that irish friend of yours for another .” nose wrinkles  ,  and she bounces on her heels and turns back to the door ; long raven hair swished back and down to touch her waist .  as she scurries out the door with a shut  ,  the air is more silent than before  .  and westley’s tried to swallow that guilt again  ,  but it keep rising  .  he’ll lean forward  ,  masking his way out from behind the island  ,  and leaning on the arm of an hand-me-down sofa couch  ,  that in turn  ,  was surprisingly comfortable  .  “can we talk?” words masked with a hands of gesture  ,  and his gaze is softer  ;  because he doesn’t want to verbalize the mess he’s feeling inside-- doesn’t want to project the anxious hands  , or the guilty conscious  . “i think um-” hands stop  ,  only to scratch the nape of his neck before continuing  .  “i think we need to set some boundaries .” and it’s a talk he’s been meaning to have  . because once  ,  or maybe twice-- it’s come up with molly  .  and to be fair  ,  he understands where she’s coming from  .  caroline and westley were teetering the line of best friends  ,  and maybe more-- and he’d been trying his damnest to keep that closeness  ,  without falling for her in the same breath  .  it wasn’t fair to his girlfriend  ,  and that’s the point--- he has a girlfriend  .  a girl that slowly but surely  ,  he was starting to like more and more  .  and when she finds out caroline got to meet his mother first- got to see his apartment first- got to stay the night at the motel first----  it’s messy  .  this entire thing ,  trying to find a balance between what caroline wants  ,  what molly wants  ,  and just as importantly- what westley wants  .  “i’ve never let anyone meet my mom- and i’ve talked about her a lot, but it’s something that’s different for me .” emerald eyes glanced away  ,  to gather his thoughts - before returning back to her gaze  .  “now i have to explain to molly why you get to meet her  ,  and she doesn’t  .  and that puts me in a different place than i was in before-- i either bite the bullet and i tell her no  ,  which would result in a fight  .  or i let them meet  ,  and pretend that it doesn’t make me uncomfortable  .  either way  ,  it’s weird--” brows furrowed  .  “isn’t it?” a question  ,  and he’s not even sure he wants her to answer it -- because either way he’s starting to learn that he’ll get a halfway answer  ,  that the back and forth between them wasn’t invisible  ,  and he wasn’t crazy  .  but it was chasing a ghost  ,  and she already warned him once  .  “my mom is the only one i got  .  it’s always been me and her  ,  and this whole---” he stands slightly  ,  and shrugs  .  “it freaks me out  .  because the longer you stay here  ,  and you’re -- just like her  ,  makes me want to forget about everyone else anyways- and that’s so incredibly selfish caroline  .  especially when you don’t want to be with me ,  and there’s someone else who does  .” hands found the bottom of denim pockets  .  “so---- boundaries  .  no .. coming into the apartment unannounced .. no-- touching my chest after we hug .. no facetiming me in the middle of the night ..  no spending the night-- even if it’s late .. no-- showing my mom pictures of my girlfriend and reliving childhood memories ..  okay?”