Wayhaught Encounters
The office was cold and asleep, completely dark and empty except for one lit office along the hallway. It was the late nights that did it. The waiting at home, twiddling her thumbs, staring at a cold plate of dinner, absolutely convinced of something tragic. It was all of these things in their unified attack against the back of her throat that left Waverly slipping her shoes on and wrapping her scarf tight... although, the unspoken promise of what she would find waiting for her at the precinct was half the allure too.
