otp: missing puzzle piece

our relationship was like a puzzle
one of those puzzles that you don’t want to take a break from
on of those puzzles that everything seemed to fit together just perfectly
until we got down to that last piece
that one last puzzle piece just wouldn’t fit
it was misshapen and deformed
and we just couldn’t find a spot for it
and without that one, small puzzle piece
the whole puzzle is ruined
our whole relationship was like a puzzle
and we had to tear he puzzle apart
because that one piece just wouldn’t fit
—  d.h. so close, yet so far
Missing Puzzle Piece | Wesley & Cordelia

She walked into the room under shimmering lights that reflected red and gold - the colors of the rooms that adjourned the high school gym. In that moment, at the senior prom for the class of 1999, Wesley’s eyes had been fixed upon Cordelia, her beauty transcendent as she entered the room. He remembered thinking how wonderfully confident she must have been to go alone - stag, as they called it. He knew little of high school girls’ politics, but the queen of the high school was supposed to have the most desirable date. That much, he had picked up from blasted American television. The creepy older man who spent his days in the library without actually being employed there didn’t fit the bill, yet he was the one she had shared her final dance with.

The man Cordelia Chase described as classy, educated, rich, with two last names had been a far cry from who he became when they ended up in Los Angeles together. They were two almost-strangers with questionable emotional history, travelling two different roads, but it had brought them together. It had brought them to Angel. She hadn’t been the same, either, in the end. Our Cordelia, Wesley had called her when referencing her to Angel, when informing the stupid, belligerent vampire of all the changes she had gone through. Cordelia had been a guiding light - even before she had become a higher being. Wesley was in need of such guidance now. 

It was strange, to think of what they had experienced together, not just the two of them, but the entire team. Angel, Cordelia, Gunn, Fred, Lorne. His family away from family. Each and every one of them had been lost, changed, shattered by the storm, and yet somehow, many of them had found their way here, to London. Not always with the best timing, admittedly, but fate had a sense of humor, oftentimes sick. Wesley rose from his seat as her radiant beauty joined him in the Red Dragon on Baker Street. She looked the same as when he had last seen her. No less beautiful, no less full of light and spirit. “Hi,” he greeted with a small, yet wholeheartedly sincere smile as he hugged her. “You’re a sight for sore - and incredibly tired - eyes. How are you, Cordelia?” They would allow one another to enjoy the solace of one another’s company for just a few moments before delving into the tales of their dark and difficult times. Such things didn’t just lie ahead. They were near-constant. Such was the life of an agent of the greater good. 

It was strange, the thought of worrying about Fred again, watching her as though she were a child. Both Cordelia and Wesley knew the particular difficulty of returning from the afterlife. They knew one rarely did so unscathed. No, scratch ‘rarely’. Never. One never did so unscathed. Death should have been life’s final gift, but it was refundable, at least in their world. Wesley didn’t know if that was a blessing, or a curse. It changed daily. One thing that didn’t change was the fact that life was complicated, and Fred’s return was yet another thing in the list of complications. A gift, yes. A blessing. But a complicated one. “We really need to make more time for one another,” Wesley said, taking his seat. “You haven’t even met Penelope… Have you?"