Restless : Locked to Jelani

Wylie had never felt more out of his element. Usually the confident and ever charming man that he was, he could take himself anywhere and still be as confident as ever. Right now? Not the case. He was frustrated and still a little unsure about what exactly he was doing here and where exactly here was. It wasn't easy being dropped into the unknown an though a lot of his life involved not having any idea what was going on around him and simply going with the flow, this didn't feel quite the same. 

However, he didn't let that on. He was all smiles and charm, hilarity and carefree disposition. Wylie had learned to be a liar over the years in a way to keep himself sane, or so he said. Really what it probably was is that he wasn't willing to get hurt and it was easier to hurt someone else instead. Great philosophy on life, that kid had. 

For now, his time with Jelani was both unexpected and uneasy. He managed to look as though it was okay and he was just fine, coping with the best of them, but something about having to be rescued by the woman that he so unceremoniously found himself drawn to was slightly emasculating. He wasn't about to let her know that either. Wylie had every intention of keeping his mouth shut through this whole thing until he could leave because really, all he needed was to be attached to some woman who wasn't even full human and apparently made a living out of murdering people for money. He probably didn't actually understand the full extent of what she was, what she did and where they were, but making his own truths with wildly off base assumptions was a favorite past time of his. 

"Je," he asked, calling over his shoulder as he was sitting in the living room staring down at his hands, slouched on the couch, legs long and sprawled. "We gotta do something, I'm getting restless..." and a restless Wylie was never good news.

Third Time's a Charm - locked to iamsexandcandy

He was an idiot. That's all. Complete and utter idiocy. He was out there, standing in the middle of some fucking vamp bar, staring out at the crowd of fang bangers who were begging to be bled dry while he watched for a head of red hair. Fuck it... he was an asshole for even showing up.

He groaned to himself and shook his head, glancing down at the bar and waiting to see if any of this was going to make any sense here in a minute. It wasn't going to, he figured out. He was just waiting... hoping that something was about to change. Something was going to make him feel like he wasn't the asshole even though this drink in his hand was telling him that he was.

If she didn't show in the next five minutes, he was leaving. No looking back. No trying again. He wasn't going to keep fucking this up.