This story is set in season 2 of 'Angel'.
These characters belong to the good people at Mutant Enemy.
Silences
Cordelia was crouched over her desk, applying mascara with all the concentration of a neurosurgeon. “So, Wesley, big night in front of ‘Wheel of Fortune’ tonight?” she asked chirpily. “Y’know, if you ask really nicely, I might dress up as Vanna…”
Wesley stopped dead and sighed. He was in no mood for the usual banter. He was disturbed by Angel’s growing fixation on Darla.
However, he suspected that Cordy felt the same, and needed the pretence of normalcy. “At least it’s better than sitting on the lounge with a Diet Coke, perusing the latest edition of ‘Tramp of the Month’,” he said shortly. Cordy mimed being shot to the heart, and fluffed her hair. He bit his lip. He didn’t say, /When you cut your hair it destroyed me. I used to dream of running my fingers through those magnificent, long, brown strands/.
Cordy felt something change in him. She looked up. She didn’t confess, /I still think of you at night/
He didn’t respond, /I’ve always regretted that I didn’t try again. You…are exquisite/.
She didn’t stand and walk over to him, brown eyes suddenly vulnerable. /You are one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. And you’ve grown so much since we first met/ she didn’t say. They didn’t fall into each other’s arms and have the kiss they should have had.
“So,” Wesley cleared his throat. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yep, bye, Wes,” Cordy smiled and put away her compact.
“Goodbye,” he tossed over his shoulder as he left.
