Ayyyy I think this is the fastest I've updated in a good long while! Thank you Miss Kaydence, Nameless, delovlies, Lizcran, mnbvcxz-xx, and Princess of Ash and Snow for your kind reviews!

This chapter is cheesy and sappy and I love it. Please indulge my writing needs :)

-Shades

…

There were times when Lissa loved her new life at the palace immensely. When everything seemed to be going so perfectly and everything was beautiful, with her friends and her dream job by her side and the dream of something even better not far off.

This was not one of those times.

She was curled up on the couch in the small sitting area on the fourth floor with most of the rest of the upper-level staff, wearing her favorite leggings and an old t-shirt. Report nights were always nice because she got off an hour early, but she usually never did anything with that time. She had been coerced into participating with everyone else for their weekly tradition-for that hour and half of filming the Report, the upper staff always came together to watch it.

In Lissa's opinion, a movie night would actually be way more fun, because usually the ladies maids and valets were still in uniform and had to go back right back to work, but she attended anyway. Everyone else always had tons of fun making fun of the Selected and even the royal family, but to Lissa, it was kind of lame. Still, maybe they just needed to blow off some steam roasting the entire program.

Joseph, who had his arm draped over her shoulders, scoffed loudly as Wesley declined to answer a question about what happened in downtown Angeles with Iris.

"He's such a coward, honestly. He would do so much better if he stopped being so secretive about it."

Some of the others agreed, and though Lissa had initially liked them, right now she wished she was hanging out with Gracie. Lissa didn't say anything. She was trying really hard, but lately, Joseph had been getting on her nerves. He would not shut up about how much he hated his job and hated Wesley and couldn't wait to find something else. Joseph squeezed her shoulder and pulled her towards him, so she was leaning against him instead of the couch arm. As much as she wanted to, Lissa didn't pull away.

You like him, remember? She reminded herself.

She was still annoyed. Gracie had wanted her to come to the apartment to watch the Report together while Damian was at work, but Lissa had made an excuse and hung out with Joseph instead. Joseph didn't like Gracie much either.

It was sickening to her to watch Eleanor cozy up to Wesley like they were married already, holding his hand and simpering next to him. Yeah, sure she was completely over him, but she still cared deeply about him, and she could tell that Eleanor would never make him happy.

But then there was that nagging in her head, that reminded her how his words about never forgetting her at the Victory Ball had affected, and how when she had seen him fall while playing polo, she didn't give it a single thought before rushing to his side.

And the burning she felt watching him during Piper's interview, hugging her and being his adorable self.

"Is this painful for you guys to watch too?" Joseph asked the others, getting some laughs in reply. "I don't remember the other princes being this bad. He's such a little asshole."

"Ethan was pretty shy on the Reports too," Lissa blurted out.

"Oh yeah, of course, Miss Former Selected herself will always stick up for any member of the royal family, but yet you're here with us," Joseph teased. Everyone else laughed and Lissa forced a smile.

"Wesley told me back then that Reports are really hard," she countered, sitting up so she wasn't sandwiched into Joseph anymore. "Imagine being on a live show like that with everyone watching your every move plus trying to find your wife and fix the country."

Joseph rolled his eyes at her. "I guess you are right babe, but what does that weird little asshole know anyway? He hasn't worked a day in his life, he has no idea how hard real life can be."

You would be surprised, Lissa thought. She sat silently through the rest of the interviews, trying to ignore the commentary from her co-workers that, frankly, was getting way too annoying. The moment it was over she stood up, eager to make her escape.

"Hey, where are you going?" Joseph looked up at her from the couch as some of the on-duty staff hurried back to their posts.

"I think I'm going to crash early tonight," Lissa said. Maybe it wouldn't be too late to hang out with Gracie for a few hours. "I'm really tired."

"Aw come on babe, let's go watch a movie or something. You can still go to bed early, it's not that late."

Lissa sighed. "I really don't want to."

Joseph frowned and looked down.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. It seemed like lately if she wasn't at work she was with him and she just needed some time to herself.

"It's cool, but you're still lame," he said, poking her in the stomach as he laughed.

Lissa forced a laugh. "Well, see ya tomorrow." She left quickly, but he called after her.

"Hey, wait!"

She turned. "What?"

He walked down the hallways a few steps before speaking. "You owe me a hug."

Another forced smile. "Oh."

He wrapped his arms around her and she did likewise. He did give really good hugs.

Once she was finally rid of him, Lissa made a hasty retreat to her room and flopped on her bed with a groan. She was about to text Gracie when someone knocked on her door. She cursed under her breath, preparing herself for another confrontation with Joseph.

She dragged herself to her feet and went to the door.

But it wasn't Joseph.

It was Wesley.

He was wearing remnants of his casual suit from the Report, sans jacket though, so just a dress pants and a white button down, the sleeves haphazardly rolled up. There was the smell of cigarette smoke coming off of him and his damp hair was an absolute mess, the brownish-blonde strands flopping over his eyes. He fixed his gray eyes straight on her, mouth slightly open. Then he smiled and took a deep breath.

"Hey," he said, in that way that is supposed to sound casual but most definitely does not.

Lissa ran her hands over her hips, slightly self-conscious of being dressed so casually. "Hi." Her voice came out the exact same way as his. "What's up?"

Wesley pressed his lips together, and his brow crinkled. "Why would anything be up?"

"Um…well why are you here?" She leaned against the doorframe, leaving her door ajar behind her.

He propped his hands on his hips, "I thought we agreed at the ball to be friends, didn't we?"
"Yeah…? But why are you here?" Lissa had the sneaking suspicion that Wesley knew exactly what was going on but he was too shy to come right out with it.

"Oh, well I thought we could go do friend-stuff, you know? Like, hang out?"

"Right now?"

"Well if you're busy we don't have to…" Wesley backed up a step, and looked at her like a little lost puppy, his wet hair only adding to it. "But…I would really like to talk to you."

Lissa hesitated. She had meant to avoid him. She had made up her mind to stay here because the only reason she had to leave was because of him, and he had asked her not to sacrifice her career over their awkwardness. She was fine being polite, but that didn't mean she wanted to hang out alone with him and have a heart-to-heart conversation.

But none of those reasons convinced her to decline and go back to pouting in her room.

She shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Where are we going?"

He grinned, the smile breaking out all over his face. It was contagious.

"C'mon!" he exclaimed and turned and ran down the hall.

They ended up in the Observatory, a tiny room at the highest point of the caste. Halfway up the walls was dark wood paneling and the rest was glass panels that surrounded the whole room. There was only room for a small table and chairs. There was already a bottle of whiskey that had started to be emptied and a couple cans of Coke.

Wesley closed the door behind them and smiled awkwardly at her. Lissa smiled back and stood in front of the windows. It was raining out in the dark night and in the mostly glass room they could hear it faintly.

"Interesting place for a talk," Lissa mused.

"Yeah, well no one can usually find me up here," Wesley said, sitting down in one of the chairs and prying open one of the soda bottles. The loud pop echoed through the room, and the fizzing was obnoxiously loud as he poured it on top of a shot of whiskey.

"Your brother took me up here once," Lissa said, smiling fondly at the memory. "It was so…awkward."

Wesley laughed, taking a sip of his drink. "Everything with Ethan is usually awkward. You should have seen him the first time he held his kid."

Lissa smiled. "It wasn't just him. I didn't have any clue what to say to him! He was a prince and I was one of the lowest castes in the Selection."

Wesley took another drink. "I suppose…" he began, avoiding her eyes, "that even though I was a prince too, you had plenty to say to me."

Lissa turned back to the windows. "That was different."

She heard the clink of glass, and the low lights in the room provided enough light to create a reflection in the window and she could see him staring at her, empty glass in front of him.

"Everything's different, isn't it?"

Lissa didn't reply. She pressed her fingertips against the windows, not knowing quite what to say. He was still staring at her, she could see it through the reflection.

"Kinda feels like a dream half the time. Like it never really happened, like I was never here before," she admitted, saying what really was in her heart. All the other girls of Ethan's Selection looked back on it so fondly, but sometimes to Lissa it was just a dream. "Do you ever feel like that?"

She didn't know why she asked him, she just did, turning around to face him. Maybe it was a "friend-thing".

Wesley shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't. Honestly, this whole Selection feels more like a dream than anything."

Lissa let out a small laugh. "Yeah, that too. It's hard to believe I was one of them once."

He held her gaze. "You were never one of them. You were never one of mine. But you could have been, you know that, don't you? You—"

"Wes, please-" Lissa tried to cut him off.

"No, Lis, you were the only thing that kept me alive up there during the war," Wesley practically shouted, "and now that everything is so different it's like you're gone from completely and I have no more excuses to even try to keep going anymore," he ended his rant abruptly, and lowered his head, slumping over the table. He spoke in a very small voice. "I'm not asking for you to come back to me… but I just wanted you to know."

"I—" Lissa began. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Wesley muttered into the table, his head draped over his glass of whiskey. "I just wanted to tell you. I'm sorry. It's just…it's gotten to the point where I don't know where I don't know who I am anymore, I feel like I'm going insane, I can't sleep, I can't concentrate, I can't even think straight. I can't keep myself from falling to pieces and that scares the hell out of me."

He looked up at her, his eyes so full of pain. They were a bit more crinkled a bit more around the edges than she remembered, and the Wesley she knew as a teenager would never have ever consented to let tears fill his eyes. He never would be single-handedly downing a bottle of whiskey or reeking of cigarette smoke.

He opened his mouth to speak, drawing in a ragged breath. "And then I see you…and it's like everything is okay again."

Lissa stared at him for second and then turned quickly back to the windows.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Wesley said miserably from behind her. "Shit, none of that came out right."

Lissa shook her head. "No, it's fine."

"I shouldn't have told you all that."

"Well you did," she said. It was time to end this. She watched the raindrops streak down the window. Maybe it wasn't the rain, maybe it was. But somehow it made everything feel safe like the world was a little smaller and darker and too focused on the water to hear her. Maybe that's why she could tell him what she did.

She sat down in the chair opposite him, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

"Sometimes, after I left this place, you were the only thing that kept me going too. I know I didn't go fight in the war like you did. I didn't even get close. I can't imagine what happened to you."

Wesley just kept his head down, pouring just whiskey this time and taking a shot. He offered her the bottle but Lissa shook her head.

"I wanted everything to be like a fairy tale. And it wasn't. But I remembered you, and I remembered us. You made me feel beautiful, you made me realize it didn't matter where I came from, you made me happy. And I will always hold onto that, I will never forget that."

She smiled, blinking back against the tears that unexpectedly formed in her eyes. "And I see it in your eyes, I see how you're scared of the way the girls make you feel because you don't want to feel anything at all. But Wesley…our little made-up world is gone. You're having a Selection, and I'm dating Joseph and whatever we had…we don't have anymore."

He didn't reply, leaving her words echoing throughout the room. Lissa continued.

"Do you think that maybe…the only time we work together is when we can't be together?"

"What?"

Lissa swallowed hard. "It was so exciting back then. Sneaking around, making promises, planning our future…"

"But everything's different now, isn't it?" He lowered his eyes to the table, repeating what he had said earlier.

He picked up the bottle again and poured another splash into his glass, and then stood up and poured some in hers too. He tipped the contents of his glass into his mouth.

Lissa picked up her glass and took a sip, for courage.

"Wes…" she used her nickname for him automatically. She blurted out the rest before she could lose her courage. "I want you to tell me what happened."

He looked up sharply at her, his eyebrows drawn together. She could plainly see that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"What-what do you mean?" he said after a moment.

"No. About you. About the war. What happened to you, what made you like…this?"

Wesley frowned and set his glass on the table a little harder than necessary. "Is there something wrong with me? Are you trying to fix me too?" His voice was louder, angrier than she expected. Wesley Shreve was not really the sort of person to get mad.

"I'm not trying to 'fix' you," she retorted, raising her voice too. "I'm trying to help you! You won't talk to anyone, you just bottle it up inside you and I've seen how it's changed you!"

"Well maybe no one can ever help me, ever thought about that?" He was gripping his glass so hard now she thought he might break it, but he wasn't yelling anymore. "Maybe I'm just going to be like this forever."

"You might be if you don't let anyone help you!" Lissa leaned back in her chair with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

They sat in silence for a moment. Wesley poured another drink and Lissa finished hers, glaring at him over the rim.

He avoided her eyes as he spoke. "Look, you really don't need to know what happened up there. And I really don't want to tell you."

"I'm still asking. And if you don't want to tell me, will you talk to someone else about it?"

Wesley was already shaking his head before she finished. "No, no. No, I can't." He held his head in his hands. "I just can't."

"Why?" Lissa leaned over the table closer to him. "Give me one good reason why you can't."

He met her eyes and held them for a long moment. Then he looked down at the table again.

"It wasn't just one thing. I wish it was that simple, but it's not. And I don't want to give you the whole list, I don't want to sound like every other sob story out there. Lots of people had way worse than I did. I saw my dad executed in front of me. I almost died because I was stupid. And my friend, my best friend…he died because of me. He died so I could get away. It was my fault." Wesley just kept shaking his head, over and over again. "It doesn't sound that bad, I know it doesn't. But it still happened. And I don't think I can forgive myself. Maybe if…" he trailed off. "I don't know. I can't forget any of it."

He stood up now and walked restlessly behind his chair. "And this ridiculous Selection…it' s like everyone is trying to pretend like it didn't happen like everything is normal and okay. And it's not."

He took a deep shuddering breath. "I want to believe that I can be okay again, but I'm not so sure."

His words from earlier came back to her. You were the only thing that kept me alive up there during the war…

And now he was looking at her, asking her to save him.

Save him like he saved her.

Lissa stood up, and went to him, where he stood, holding onto the back of the chair like it was the only thing keeping him together.

"Hey," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You're going to be okay."

He met her eyes. The sound of the rain on the windows drowned out everything else, not there was much in that quiet room.

"Just tell me one thing,"

"Sure," Lissa whispered.

"Are you happy with him? Are you happy with Joseph? Does he treat you right?"

The air in the room seemed to have run out. And Lissa didn't know how to answer. To her, it seemed so random. But Wesley was asking it like his life depended on it.

Finally, she just nodded.

Wesley sort of pressed his lips together in a sort of grimace smile. "I guess I should really start focusing on the Selection then."

Lissa nodded again, but this time she couldn't look at him. "Yeah. You're going to marry one of those girls, after all."

Wesley straightened up and picked up the whiskey bottle. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"I haven't the slightest idea about any of them."

He smiled a little, which was a good sign. "Yeah me neither." With exaggerated care, he pushed in the chair he had been sitting in. "I guess…I guess I'll see you around."

With a final nod, he was leaving, heading towards the door.

And then he stopped.

"Lissa Dove," he said, loudly this time. He smiled one of his infectious grins at her and didn't wait for her to reply. "I'm never going to love anyone the way I loved you."

And then he was gone.