we built this house on memories., bree!

[wesley devereux]

you called and changed it all , Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in

A lot of Wes’ life seemed to pass in a hotel room nowadays. He didn’t think he should complain, considering the sheer amount of space afforded to him for absolutely nothing, but it was, well, boring. The television only had a few select channels, and he had gotten bored of them. He could ask for things and have them delivered to his room, but he wasn’t in the mood to read, doodle, surf the internet or clean his room anymore than it needed to be. Even his go-to hobby didn’t hold much of a lustre for him that afternoon and he had taken to counting down the minutes, staring at the clock, for when he could conceivably change into his suit and attend an evening party (what was it for? He didn’t know. He’d check the invitation later). Naturally, the clock seemed to be going super slow. The sound of his door clicking open didn’t quite register at first but then he realised there was no need for someone to come in. Housekeeping had been by earlier, replacing his towels and making his bed. The all-purpose man who did things like arrange his cars and make tailoring appointments always knocked twice and waited. “Giles?” he started, swinging off his four-poster bed and heading into the living area of his suite, curious to know what had happened; perhaps housekeeping needed to drop off more shampoo or someone had been given the wrong key. Instead, at the sight of a young woman, he mentally stuttered, having not planned for this. “Excuse me-“ he started, trying to sound polite and self-effacing, even vaguely charming; he was Wesley Devereux and he should be able to make people talk to him with nothing more than a genial smile which, of course, slipped the moment he recognised the woman, turning what should a friendly question into something more sarcastic, “What, did you come to finish the job?” bree / clothes

[bree daniels]

She hated hotels. She didn’t know why, but there was something about them that just seemed so temporary, and it was a feeling she loathed since the day she’d left home, with no family to go back to. So, to find herself in one was completely out of character for Bree, yet there she was, hiding behind a wall in the kitchen, eating a muffin she’d found on a tray that looked like it was headed for room service. She wasn’t sure why she was there, but now she was, she wanted to head upstairs, see if there was anything valuable. She wasn’t usually a thief but when the opportunity presented itself, she wasn’t the type to ignore it.

Seeing she was dressed similar to the wait staff who were flitting in and out of the kitchen, she grabbed the gold cart and took it out of the room, heading for the lifts that were situated opposite it. Waiting with her head down so no one noticed she was out of the place in the lobby of the ridiculously decorated foyer, she stepped into the open lift and pressed a random floor, not really caring where she headed. She assumed all the guests were rich, and therefore it didn’t matter what rooms she started in.

As the doors opened, she smiled at the waiting guests and thanked them as politely as she could, for letting her pass. Walking down the hall with her cart, she stole another muffin from the silver tray and ate it as she walked, glancing at all the rooms. Deciding on one, she was about to open it when she heard movement from inside and footsteps. Panicking slightly, she turned around, leaving the cart and opened the door behind her, closing it so the occupiers of the opposite room didn’t see her. Glancing around the room, she noticed she hadn’t picked a bad one at all, seeing the valuables dotted around the suite. Hearing a name being called, she froze, realising that she wasn’t alone. She felt a presence behind her and as she turned, she all but groaned at who she was facing. She watched his own face change and they just stared at each other. “Fucks sake, of all the hotel rooms and I walk into yours.” At his question, she glared at him. “That wasn’t the plan but I can easily adapt.” Bree glanced around the room, ignoring the man in front of her. “Should have known you lived in a hotel.” She muttered, more to herself but she didn’t care if he heard her.

tag: husband! │ outfit

[wesley devereux]

you called and changed it all , Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in

It was evident that this was not a part of Wesley’s daily plan. This wasn’t even a part of his life plan. He hadn’t sat down and thought, ‘you know what my life is missing? Even more danger. I’m not happy with light identity theft, and want to get in with gun-toting weirdos too.’ But it was fine. The world had other plans, and these plans involved a muffin-clutching lady in his suite while he attempted to subtly look her over in case she had come armed for an assassination attempt; he didn’t want to seem like he was checking her out, he felt that this was a very legitimately look-over, considering he was thinking about his health. “Yes, why have you walked into my room?” he questioned, feeling like he got to ask that. It was actually legitimate trespassing, and he knew how she felt about that! She hadn’t even explained her purpose for being in the hotel, but he mostly just wanted to know why she didn’t have the good grace to know his room number and then avoid it forever. He hadn’t exactly moved since moving to London, having nowhere else to go and liking this lifestyle far too much anyway. At her remark, he raised an eyebrow at her, offended for no reason. He was suddenly very protective over his hotel room. He thought it was wonderful, the best one in the world. He would like to live there for the rest of his life! (In truth, waking up with so much gold-coloured items in one room meant that he was often briefly blinded in the mornings, but she was hardly asking him to review the room for TripAdvisor.) “What’s wrong with that?” he started. “Is it not enough for you? I can get room service, if you’d like.” bree / clothes

[bree daniels]

Bree was cursing herself inwardly, for seemingly having the worst luck in the world. If it wasn’t bad enough she was in a hotel, she was now in his room, the guy she completely despised upon first meeting him. Her day couldn’t have gone worse. It was like the world was playing a cruel joke on her. She watched him as he watched her, clearly giving her the once over for anything she could hurt him with. This made her smirk, knowing he was slightly paranoid about her presence. She liked making an impression on people she didn’t like.

”Wrong room?” She answered grimacing slightly at the lame excuse she’d just come out with, and seeing his face, she knew he didn’t believe her. ”Fine, you wanna know? I was about to rob the room across the hall. Figured I might as well get something out of my little trip here. Everyone who lives here is loaded.” She glanced around the room again, slowly walking towards the window, impressed by the view he had of London. The city almost looked pretty from high up.

Turning, she watched as his face changed, clearly insulted by her comment. ”I didn’t say anything was wrong with it. But now were on the subject, I just think it’s a little pretentious, don’t you? Living in a hotel? What are you, some sort of Lord?” She rolled her eyes, although the idea of room service was making her stomach growl. Deciding to tease him, she smirked and sat down on the plush sofa, her boot covered feet hanging over the edge. ”Room service would be great, actually. Anything you’d recommend?”

tag: husband! │ outfit

[wesley devereux]

you called and changed it all , Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in

Yes, Wesley thought, regarding her rather blankly, the wrong room thing was obvious. She hadn’t expressed joy at seeing that she was in the right place, and he blinked at her, prompting her to add to it, perhaps explain what the right room was. At the knowledge that she had planned to break into Henry Covington-Warwick’s room- a new friend of Wesley’s- he frowned rather seriously. “Is this what you do? Break into hotel rooms, carry guns… steal muffins, like the true rebel you are,” he started, pretty sure that in the realm of bad behaviour, breakfast was not something he generally associated with hooliganery. Making a face at the way she meandered around his hotel room, he shook his head in mild disappointment, wondering why she needed to be doing things like peering out of his windows. Perhaps she had never had a view of the Shard before, a view that Wesley found simultaneously awe-inspiring and remarkably pretentious, all things considered. “Living in a hotel is what people do when they’re not from London,” he told her patiently, but at her question, he grinned. Ignoring the ugly truth, he preened a little, proud of himself when he got to say, without shame, “Close. Dad’s a viscount. I will be one day.” The thought of legitimately being a viscount, of course, was impossible, but then, so was affording this hotel room with no income and he was managing just fine. “I’m confused, are we having room service together? Is that what you’re wanting? Don’t knock my party invite,” he added, in case she did so in her bid to steal his sofa, the invite sitting on the edge of the coffee table, moving round to sit on the edge of the other sofa. “No, no, it’s fine, make yourself comfortable. Don’t know your name, but it’s okay, carry on.” bree / clothes

[bree daniels]

She rolled her eyes at his sarcastic and condescending tone. And this was why she hated rich people she couldn’t help but think to herself as she stared at the blonde in front of her. Who was he to judge her just because he was living it up in a fancy hotel? She shook her head at him, finally deciding to answer. ”Well, it’s not my usual hobby but when I woke up this morning, I had this overwhelming urge to come here and steal muffins. It was the strangest thing.” She replied with as much bite as he had towards her, not really caring she was in his hotel room and pretty much at his mercy if he decided to call security on her, the drop from his hotel window far too high for a safe exit.

She shook her head at his reply. ”No, they stay in London for a couple of weeks then leave. Not many people can afford to continuously live in a hotel, especially one as posh as this.” She replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was to her, anyway. Who could afford to live in a hotel permanently? Bree would love to, but she didn’t have that kind of money at all. So to her, the idea was pretentious. It was most jealousy talking but she was never going to admit that to him. ”A viscount?” Bree blanched at his reply, knowing he was deadly serious and she wanted to wipe the smug expression he had off his face. ”Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be. A viscount.” she shook her head, knowing only she could have a run in with a viscount’s insufferable son. She hated rich people.

Bree smirked. ”Well you offered. Anything you’d suggest? I’m rather hungry right now and if you’re paying, I want the full works.” Taking her feet down, she slipped her boots off and sat with her legs underneath her, making herself right at home, if only to infuriate him even more. ”If you must know, the name is Bree. Guess I should know yours then, you know, if we’re going to be eating together.”

tag: husband! │ outfit

[wesley devereux]

you called and changed it all , Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in

Wes couldn’t help his tone, and he certainly couldn’t help the fact that Bree seemed to take any opportunity to throw his sarcasm back at him. He didn’t mind some witty banter- it was, after all, more preferable to stuffy talks about stocks or endless awkward silence- but he got the feeling that she wasn’t taking him seriously. He wasn’t quite taking her seriously either, but he felt that he had a defence in that she did a lot of very strange things, which was saying something because he barely knew her. “My God, what a strange urge. What other terrible things have you done lately?” he enquired, sure that she might next confess that she had tried to steal lip gloss from Claire’s at this rate. “Well, this is just a test run. We don’t know when I’m heading home, but who knows, maybe one day I’ll be upgraded to a mansion, just to make you feel better,” he offered, finding this more ridiculous than living in a hotel room. Eleonore had an apartment, he knew, but there were also plans for her to live in London long-term, and Wesley Devereux didn’t get that honour (nor did he particularly want people genuinely thinking he was going to stick around, just in case things went south). “Is it that bad? Would you prefer an Earl?” he considered, making a face as though somehow an earl was insufferable compared to a lowly viscount, because obviously Wesley would have his prejudices about his own people. He wasn’t entirely sure he had offered, at least not seriously, but he considered it and felt that there were worse things than feeding her; mostly, it would be better than having her wander his suite, maybe trashing his bathroom or something. “I just want you to know I’m only doing this,” he started, heading over to the phone to place an order for room service, hitting the number from memory, “because I worry that if I don’t, you’ll go around terrorising other poor hotel visitors.” It didn’t take him long to place an order, selecting a few things from the menu on hand that didn’t sound ridiculous (no, he didn’t need caviar for breakfast, thank you, that would be strange). He was familiar with their speed, knew it would take a few minutes, and settled down again, filing her name away in case he was forced to do something like admit who he had let into his room. “Wesley Devereux. Most people do call me Wes, so I suppose you can too.” bree / clothes

[bree daniels]

His sarcasm was getting to her – she wasn’t exactly used to someone biting back as hard as she did and she couldn’t help but shoot back at every opportunity with some sarcastic comment, more fiery than usual. Still, she was grateful that he at least had something about him – because the rest of his personality was not appealing to her in the slightest. She could work with sarcasm. Rolling her eyes at his question, something she found herself doing more and more in his presence, she smirked. “Oh you know, robbed a bank, smuggled some cocaine into the country from abroad, took some candy from a baby. Evil things.” She was sure he wouldn’t be expecting her answer, but she was never too sure what to expect when talking to him – except pure disappointment in his tone.

”Now a mansion I can handle. Let me know when you move, just so I can pop by like this sometimes. And you know, rob you while I’m there.” She shrugged, smiling slightly. ”I think we can start a really good friendship on that basis, you know?” She didn’t understand the rich, or how he thought it was strange to move into a mansion above living in a hotel. People didn’t live in hotels in her world – that was classed as weird. ”Who has more money?” She asked, jokingly. She didn’t quite know how to take him being a viscount or whatever he was, except for the feeling of utter dislike. She didn’t mix with the rich for no other reason other than they were completely insufferable. ”I have the worst luck in the world. Why couldn’t you just be a standard rich boy.” She muttered under her breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear her properly but knowing her chances, he would and he would take offence, clearly being the sensitive sort. Most rich people were.

”Well aren’t you just a good Samaritan, saving all your rich friends from poor little ol’ me.” She smirked as she settled in, hand on her heart as she feigned admiration. ”What a guy.” She watched him dial and order, listening as he ordered a few things she hadn’t heard of before but if he was paying, she was willing to try it all. Wesley Devereux. Even his name was as pretentious as he was but he was feeding her, and she was starving so she let it go without commenting . ”I’ll call you Wes, sounds a little less terrible than Wesley.” She smirked, knowing once again he would be offended but before she could comment further, there was a knock on the door. ”Ooh, food is here. Let’s eat.”

tag: husband! │ outfit

[wesley devereux]

you called and changed it all , Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in

Wes rolled his eyes in return at her list, pretty sure she had done none of those things; he got the feeling that if she was a cocaine smuggler, then surely she wouldn’t want to be talking to someone who appeared as upstanding as he did? Then again, maybe she was just trying to throw him off; he still didn’t understand this Neverland thing she had going on, but he also didn’t want to ask in case he appeared stupid. She probably already thought he was though, so maybe he had nothing to lose on that front when he gathered the courage to ask what drugs everyone was on. “You are a true terror, I don’t even know how no one has caught you yet,” he decided lightly, shaking his head at her. Raising an eyebrow at the idea of needing to rob his hypothetical mansion, he pointed out, “Why would you want to steal from me? Wouldn’t it be better not to steal from the one person who isn’t turning you in? Not… that I’m recommending that,” he added quickly in case she took that as a sign to steal from his peers (imagine the horror if someone took Eleonore’s things). At her question, he frowned slightly. “An Earl,” he admitted, “Viscounts are the second-lowest rung on the ladder.” Maybe that would please her, knowing that he could have been stuffier if he wanted to be. He didn’t know what she had said, however, too busy lamenting his faux lack of money. “What was that?” he questioned. Obviously he had never been called a good Samaritan before, but he was sure that he was now; he was obviously thinking of his friends and not at all of the good banter he had with a mystery girl he had met in a shady part of town. He would, he decided graciously, overlook the sarcasm shot at him, not sure she would accept him legitimately taking it as a compliment. He did, however, think his name was very normal and not at all the worst thing about him. “What’s wrong with Wesley? It’s… not dramatic,” he pointed out, wanting to at least defend one of the things that belonged to him; God forbid she ever find out his middle name, he supposed. When there was a knock on the door, he glanced over to ensure she wasn’t going to answer the door on his behalf, perhaps terrifying some poor hotel worker, before going to answer it himself, slipping easily back into socialite Wesley- all gracious smiles, easy thanks, and pressing some notes into the man’s hand as a tip once the tray had been rolled in. “Happy now?” he asked her once he had shut the door and given up on smiling politely, already rifling through the contents to see what he wanted before Bree got there. bree / clothes

[bree daniels]

Bree could see the wheels turning in his head and she fought the urge to roll her eyes as she watched him seem to legitimately consider if she had indeed probably smuggled cocaine. Which she hadn’t of course – drugs were not her thing. She preferred petty theft if she was honest, but only when she could be bothered to do it. Which she had that morning but now she was regretting her decision. “What can I say? I’m talented at not being caught.” She replied easily, a part of that statement true, or it had been true up until now.

She could see his point – he hadn’t turned her in yet but at the same time, he couldn’t prove she had stolen anything and she knew she’d never bump into him again (if she was lucky) but she smirked as she tried to back track his idea that he should steal from other rich people instead. ”You’re full of bright ideas.” she started, watching him panic slightly. ”But I think I’m done robbing the rich. It’s far too much hassle, if today has been anything to go by.” Her question had been mostly hypothetical, so she had been surprised by his answer, and by the frown on his face as he said it. Clearly Earls and Viscounts didn’t get along, either that or he was jealous he didn’t have as much money. ”Rich is rich. Earl or Viscount, doesn’t really matter.” She had wanted to say Earl, but for some reason the look on his face dissuaded her from making him feel terrible, which she didn’t quite understand because she barely knew the man in front of her and definitely didn’t like him. ”I was just lamenting my luck, or lack of. That’s all. Nothing horrible, I promise.” She replied, holding her fingers up like she’d seen in the movies. ”Scouts honour, or whatever the phrase is.”

She knew as soon as she had said it, he would be taking it as a compliment and not in the sarcastic way she had meant it – it was something he would do, even if she had only known him for all of five minutes. ”Well of course you wouldn’t think it was dramatic. I suppose you went to school with people called Tarquin and Prunella.” She was being slightly harsh – Wesley wasn’t that bad but if she had to be around him, she would definitely prefer to call him Wes. She watched him answer the door, handing the waiter some notes like it was candy before walking him out. Deciding not to comment, she stood up. ”Most definitely.” She was like a kid in a sweet shop as she looked at all the food, some completely foreign to her but it all looked amazing. So, what’s the most expensive thing here?” If she wasn’t paying, then she was eating all the good stuff.

tag: husband! │ outfit

[wesley devereux]

you called and changed it all , Velvet lips and the eyes to pull me in

Wesley got the feeling that she was indeed very good at not getting caught, and he had obviously just gotten unlucky twice, running into her when she was in the middle of doing things she shouldn’t. The first time, he could kind of understand, but this time, it was definitely his domain and she shouldn’t have been trying to rob poor, innocent patrons of the hotel. (Okay, maybe not that kind of poor. But they were definitely innocent!) “You say that now, but you’re going to see me again,” he pointed out, feeling like the more she denied it, the more she’d find him. It didn’t help her that he had two lives going on, and while they hadn’t crossed yet and wouldn’t do, there was still the knowledge of it in London, which was more than enough. “That’s just me. I like to make things difficult for you,” he assured her, not sure if she was serious about giving up a life of robbing from the rich but supposing that she had to accept her day had taken a turn for the weird that she must not have intended. He hadn’t intended for it to happen either, but he was adept enough in social situations to just go with it, which was how he’d gotten into this mess in the first place. Feeling vaguely reassured that Bree would be offended by any level of money, even his lowly amount (!), he still frowned at her scout’s honour. “I don’t believe for a moment that you were ever a scout,” he decided, pretty sure that she might have been one, if that scout was a school for tiny robbers, like a crew of female Artful dodgers. Maybe that was what her Neverland thing turned out, and he just would never understand. “Yes, and they even got married,” he shot back immediately, deciding that he now had fake secondary school friends named Tarquin and Prunella, who obviously had beautiful and well-behaved twins named Cordelia and Camilla with double-barrelled last names and everything. For now, though, he was going to feed Bree and then presumably she would have gotten her money’s worth out of him- which was to say, he was the one who paid, but she was the one who’d consider it wasted time otherwise. “All of it, thank you,” he said, sounding offended. “I believe I did get smoked salmon, which I’m a fan of, but lobster omelette is probably what you’re expecting from my type,” he pointed out, supposing he would have only been more obvious if he’d ordered caviar (he just didn’t like it very much). bree / clothes