0.10 Inevitable

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Perhaps it was inevitable that this was to happen, but Wesley had been hoping to at least postpone it for a time much more later than then.

But as Wilson Fisk, his friend and employer, looked at him in confusion and holding a fabric from one of the summer dresses he'd had made for Harry, Wesley's mind was working on overtime in order to find something to say.

It wasn't like he could tell Wilson something like "I might have gained a neurosis around a teenager about half my age," especially since -to be honest -that would actually be the first time he admitted having a neurosis around Harry in the first place. He'd spent most of his time with her in denial about it, but he'd also tried to not be as evident with his stalkerish tendencies as possible, or note them as stalkerish to himself.

"Wesley, I'd found out from Melvin that you'd commissioned and had him make a set of summer dresses? Was there any particular reason as to why?"

Wesley almost made a snarky comment, then realized this was Wilson and he didn't use snark against the man. He almost wished Leland was there because that old bastard was one of his favorite targets.

"...I met someone."

Wilson waited on him, still watching him carefully.

"I thought she needed some new clothes."

Wilson almost looked exasperated with him and his short, vague answers. "Honestly, Wesley. Besides, isn't it something women consider rude if you say they need new clothes?"

Wesley was almost sulking and tempted to ask if he had to research that, but kept it back.

"I didn't tell her that," Wesley wasn't trying to be obtuse at least. It was just coming out that way. "I just...gave her the new dresses. It was a gift."

The circumstances were special and Harry was a mature lady that had understood his mindset.

But Wilson was still staring at him and waiting. So Wesley sighed.

"Would you like to meet her?"



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