“It’s not a strong enough argument.” Wesley respectfully retorted to his close friend, Arthur, as the pair engaged in a theoretical legal debate as Arthur jogged at a moderate speed on one of the treadmills, while Wesley sat very close by flexing a 5lb dumbbell in a very gentle, seated-arm-and- shoulder-workout.
Part of a work out routine Wesley had been encourages to maintain to help improve his
Myasthenia Gravis as well as to help keep him fit in general.
“It’s a well rounded Argument.” Arthur replied with conviction.
The trim, black-haired young man was hardly out of breath as he spoke and jogged at the same time.
Like Wesley, Arthur was also a classy law student from a wealthy family, but unlike Wesley he didn't suffer from a muscle weakening autoimmune disease, which allowed him to be rather athletic when it came to competitive cycling. Hence the reason he was getting himself into peak condition for a competition that was only a fortnight a way.
“It’s a fine argument, Arthur. But show me a legal precedent.” Wesley responded, his rebuttal difficult to counter.
“I can’t right now.” Arthur said, raising his hands slightly and shrugging, as if to say I don't have a law book to hand.
“I’ll have to get back to you on that one later. But my point is still valid.” He said, remaining persistent.
Wesley had finished flexing the weight in his hand before he overdid it and fatigued himself,
“Tell you what, let's both play to our strengths shall we? You exercise all the muscles, and I'll exercise the one that counts.” He said pointing to his mind, good-naturedly teasing his friend that he was smarter than him.
Arthur gave Wesley a sideways look, a little wry smile on his mouth, amused by his friend's banter.
A moment latter he stopped jogging allowing the treadmill to zip him backwards where he nimbly stepped off without missing a beat. Wes returned the little dumbbell to it's stand as Arthur grabbed his sports bottle and took a mouthful of water before he stepped over to a bench-press.
“Hey, spot me.” He said as he sat on the bench-press.
“Do you really think I'm the best man for that job?” Wesley asked as Arthur began to position himself under the 20lb weight,
“I'm sure they have staff for that, it's probably wiser if I go and get-Oh, ok” He said, quickly positioning himself at the ready as Arthur proceeded to lift the weight and lowered it ready to began going some reps,
“Women lift cars off their children, I'm sure you can help me put this weight back into place if I start flagging a little” He said confidently with a little grin, causing Wes to smile himself.
After a set of 10, Wes helped Arthur put the weight into place.
The pair moved on and as Arthur began working his legs on another machine. Wesley picked up a resistance band from it's hook, “
Hey they have one of these things.” He said as if it was a novel amusement...well to him it kind of was to him seeing as he hardly ever did his exercise in the gym.
“
I didn't even know they still made these.” He said, before holding it properly and attempting to stretch it. Unfortunately he lacked the strength to stretch it very far at all.
“Well that was pathetic.” He said, still finding it a novel amusement,
“Let's try that again.”Wes gave the band another pull, this time mustering a little more strength. But even though he was trying to do the exercise for real this time, he still barley managed to stretch it.
Suddenly it stopped being so amusing and became a personal challenge,
“You alright?” Arthur asked, seeing the mild look of strain that was appearing on his friend's face.
“Yep. Fine thanks.” Wes replied, half absent mindedly lost in thought as he looked down at the band in his hands, that hung like limp spaghetti now that he had stopped pulling it. Who knew something that looked like limp spaghetti would be so difficult to stretch?
Then Arthur's phone began to ring and after taking the call he turned to Wesley,
“That was my dad, there's been a small emergency at his firm and he needs me to get over there A-S-A-P.” “Go, yes go.” Wes said without hesitation.
Then as Arthur was grabbing his Ipod and water bottle he remembered,
“Oh but I'm your ride home.” “That's ok, go. I can call someone or get a cab.” He assured him,
“I could even get a bus and mingle amongst the commoners.” He joked.
Arthur grinned, lightly shaking his head,
“Alright, I'll see you in class tomorrow.” He said as he began to walk away.
"And I'll have a legal precedent" He added, looking back to Wes an pointing to him.
With that he headed out, but Wesley stayed. He looked at the resistance band in his hands again before attempting to stretch it again....and then again with not much of a result.
Sighing frustratedly he put it back and started to head out. He got near the door before he turned around and lightly stomped back and grabbed the band again. He knew his limitations but for some reason he wasn't going to accept defeat and walk away without a fight.
He began repeatedly attempting to stretch the band, his face grimacing a little with a few of his attempts.
It didn't take long for his dignity to start taking a dent. He looking up then glanced to his left and right checking to see if anyone was watching, judging but of course no one was.
As he looked over the gym he saw a man skilfully going to town on a punching bag, he silently imagined what it must be like to have that kind of stamina. So many people around him in the gym lifting weights, using machines and doing so many things he couldn't do himself. He had come to except it, for the most part anyway, and he knew what his limitations were. That still didn't mean that he did not long to be able to do at least some of the things his illness prevented him from doing.
Tag: @james
Ooc: I haven't written for Wesley for nearly 2 months and it just kept pouring out!
Equally long post right back 
