Wesley thinks aboutLilah as a diamondand Fred as a pearl. And himselfas a rich man. But what happens when he loses both these treasures?Post-"Shells". Hints of both WesLilah and WesFred. Please feel free to leave any kind of reviews, so long as they're not flames.

A diamond is a girl's best friend, isn't it? In his case, the diamond was his girl.

She is an unrefined diamond. Retrieved straight from the Earth itself, remaining razor-sharp at its edges, and yet beautiful, nevertheless. Lilah was his diamond. She was gorgeous and gleaming; and glistened under bright lights. A diamond's also very tough – hard, and ironically enough, that's the way she likes it best if he recalls correctly.

She was deadly, no doubt, but he never cared. He thinks, at the time, he wanted her even for more her viciousness and jagged edges. As callous and callow as she may have been, he wanted it. He needed it. Maybe he'd go as far as yearn for it. Around her, he'd forget about the troubles surrounding the situation with his former companions. Around her, he was a man in a wild rendezvous – something of a fantasy, but more reality.

Wesley had learned a while ago not to trust those with sharp items. The long scar on his flesh reminds of that lesson daily. However, the diamond's piercing edges are nothing compared to the faded scar on his throat. If anything, it diminishes his pain. He doesn't need to trust Lilah, he just needs to screw her. To pleasure and be pleasured. His relationship with her now is as simple as that, and he's truly glad for such a basic way of life. He loves the sounds of her muffled moans beneath him; it's more than satisfying for him these days.

The diamond is really a thing of beauty. Sometimes he watches her dress and all he sees are protruded shoulder bones flexing under the thin layers of flesh. Not all sharp-edged objects are taboo in his book, after all. The diamond, the stunning gem with all its serrated ends, is the one exception.


The one other rival in the jewel industry is the pearl. And she was his precious pearl, up until recently.

Fred was a pearl, shimmering, vibrant, and vivacious. She held no jagged ends. A pearl of pure white. Gentle and fair. The pearl is so very polished. If one would just hold it tightly, he would notice just how silky and smooth it truly is. The pearl is also fragile, and one must never forget that.

So radiant was she that the sun's rays held no form of competition. She was blinding and brilliant. Her warm, small smile was enough to make his day. She was everything he had ever wished for. From the moment he met her, from the moment he spoke to her, from the moment he touched her for a mere second; he was captivated by her. He had loved her.

And she had such gloss. She had always maintained such a glow, even through the bad times. For when the pearl is formed, it is surrounded by nothing but filth. She is the spotless, sparkling pearl in the midst of the dirty, disgusting, sea of malice.

But, regrettably, many forget the pearl is also very soft… and vulnerable. The filthy sands, will one day, sadly, contaminate our pearl. And now she had finally lost it; the glow, that is. Fred was a pearl: shimmering, vibrant, vivacious … it crushes him to recognize the verb was. Fred is no longer a pearl. The pearl has been smashed, through the long, endless, duration of her excruciating death; she could no longer keep the glow. The innocent white luster has been snatched away. To be lost from his reach for an eternity. And now, all that remains is the bluish, sapphire, hue of the icy Illyria.


The diamond and the pearl. Both beautiful in their own way. Both treasures. But now both the diamond and pearl have been worn away and nothing is left. The diamond has lost its beauty and abrasiveness, and likewise, sorrowfully, the pearl has lost its luster and glow. And now the man, who had the diamond and the pearl, is merely a penniless, pitiable, pauper. His treasure has been lost. Wesley has had the diamond, the pearl, but now, now as the end of days is approaching, he only has himself...