I smiled a little and shrugged when he told me that I had done an excellent job with her, but if he only knew what I had put her through, he wouldn't say that. Last year alone ... was tough, on both of us. I had neglected her more than I ever thought I'd ever neglect anyone and she was my sister. I'm surprised she still talks to me actually, but she does. It's like our relationship is just ... better. For the most part. I should really spend some quality time with her soon, but after Wes gets better. I can't leave him alone, not when he needed me.
Rollong on my side, I scooted over and smiled over him. "She is on our side, isn't she?" I grinned. The only one really, well, there was Willow and Tara, but they were usually happy for me no matter what. I remember Tara even told me that if I did want to be with Spike, that I could. Part of me did, but he just ... it got too complicated, too fast and now that's over. It's all over and now I have a semi-normal relationship with Wes of all people. Someone I never thought I'd even see again, let alone practically live with, playing June Cleaver or ... whoever that is.
Leaning down, I gave him a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back. I wanted to tell him everything, how I was and why I was who I was now, but I figured that was better left for a different time. Not right now when he was sick and he looked really tired.
"Get some sleep, baby," I said softly and moved back over to my side of the bed, sitting myself up so I could watch tv until I fell asleep.
“She most certainly is,” I smile at her. Dawn, I’ve always liked her. She was the one who was left behind with me when the rest went on patrol. I know a lot of her teen age secrets and she saw a side of me the others never bothered to find out. For some reason I’ve always felt a bit protective of Dawn, like a little sister I’ve never had. Sure, Cordelia was like a sister to me as well, but Dawn was different. Even if the memories I had of her were fake, it didn’t matter. Dawn was important to Buffy and I was quite glad she was on my side. I needed someone at my side fully, not just for Buffy.
I’m still smiling at that thought and it widens even more when she kisses me. Part of me wants to just grab her and prolong the kiss, telling her how much I appreciate her being here with me. For me. And the fact that my usual stoic nature when it comes to being sick or wounded hasn’t scared her off. Cordy and Gunn had given up on that after a while, I can only hope she can see past that and doesn’t give up as well. I’m well aware I can be stubborn, even if I don’t admit to it.
“Hmmm, sleep,” I murmured, making myself comfortable against the pillows. I watched her get comfortable as well before sliding an arm around her and pulling her close. “There,” I sigh happily, closing my eyes. “Now I can sleep when you’re close by.” Peeking one eye open, I look at her and lean in to kiss her forehead. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I love her, but I’m not sure if that would scare her away. So I don’t say it, I swallow it down for another time. “Sleep well, love,” I say instead, letting my eyes close again.
I felt her stirr somewhere during the night. I’d also been right. Sleeping in my own bed, at my own home - new as it was - did wonders. For one, I was actually sleeping. Two, Buffy had somehow gotten me to take the bloody medication, something not even Cordelia had managed very often. Three, the bed was much more comfortable and I had a beautiful woman safely in my arms. Ergo, sleep was so much better and…actual sleep.
But she’d stirred, and then moved away. I shifted a bit against the pillows piled against the headboard and cracked one eye open. Buffy slid out of bed and padded out of the room. Probably needed to use the loo, or wanted a glass of water. She hadn’t looked distressed. When she slid back into bed again, I had nearly dozed off once more. She snuggled up to me and my arm automatically went around her as her leg tangled with mine.
It was nice, it was comforting, it was….what? It was a struggle to actually keep my eyes closed when she uttered those words. She loved me? My heart skipped a bit and part of me wanted to run, run away fast and far. She couldn’t love me, she shouldn’t love me. That never ended well, no matter how much I loved her right back. It must’ve been a spur of the moment thing, something like.. Like shaking hands. An automatism. I should let her be, not say anything. Of course I’ve never been one to listen to anyone, let alone myself.
That, I think, was something I wasn't supposed to hear. The way she went so still and quiet was a pretty clear indication for that. I felt silent as well, not wanting to push her. My eyes move over toward her, looking at her from the corners of my eyes. She was awake, I knew that of course. But she seemed to be staring up toward the ceiling. It seemed like an eternity when she finally moved. Nearly thought she was going to pretend not to have heard me.
When she did move, she rolled over and looked at me. She glanced away quickly though, moving to sit up fully. I couldn't take my eyes off her, willing her to tell me the truth. Her mouth opened several times before the answer finally came out. She did. She said it so quietly I had to strain myself to hear it. She loved me and I could tell that frightened her. I didn't know why, but I understood. I was in the same position.
"I was sleeping, sort off. I just woke up. I'm not sorry I did though." I smiled at her hand held out my arm. "Come here," I whispered, though I had no idea why we were suddenly whispering. Perhaps because we were both afraid to break the moment. "Are you sorry you said it?" Because I sure as hell am not.
She is afraid, I can tell from the way she holds herself, that brief flash in her eyes. Though what exactly she’s afraid off, I’ve no idea. She’s had relationships before. Angel had been quite a tragedy. And I recall Cordelia mentioning some fellow named…Rawleigh? Something like that, I never asked. Wasn’t my business. Perhaps they’ve hurt her, and now she’s afraid that I’ll hurt her as well?
There’s hardly any hesitation before she moves into my arms. A little bit of worry about the fact that I may be pushing her, falls away. She wouldn’t move so easily in my arms if she’d not meant those words, right? It makes me wonder if I can say those same words to her, because I know I’m very much afraid. Burned by love, rejected, cast aside as something that didn’t matter. I to, am afraid to get burned again, get hurt by love.
Why can’t it be simple? It should be something so simple and lovely.
When she finally replies, it’s not a flat out no, which has me confused and worried again. She’s afraid I’d leave her? After all we’ve gone through thus far, why would I do that? Oh, I’m sure there will be many bumps in the road ahead of us, knowing both of us, but what relationship hasn’t. This one is worth fighting for though, and she’s one of the first, odd as it may seem, who *hasn’t* rejected me.
I lean forward a bit and kiss her forehead, my hand coming up to comb through her silk hair. She seems to be holding on a little bit tighter after those words, as though she’s afraid I’d up and run right now. “Why would I want to leave?” I ask her quietly, smiling at her. “When I’ve such a lovely vision around. Buffy, you make me feel alive.” After I’ve been dead for so long. Metaphorically speaking of course. And I am resting. I’m laying in bed, that’s bloody resting. “I won’t leave you, love,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb over those velvet lips.
Okay, if there ever was a time I’d like to be *not* sick and getting out of breath with the blink of an eye? Now would be a good time. Swallowing hard I can’t take my eyes of her as she sucks my thumb into her mouth. I have to bite down on my lip to keep from groaning out loud and I can already feel my breath coming in short pants though my nose. God, I hate pneumonia, why’d that have to happen now? Oh, Christ, *teeth!*
Of course, had I not been ill, then we’d not be here in bed cuddling. She’d perhaps hadn’t felt less intimidated or vulnerable. And she’d *never* had said those two little words. Two little words that make me afraid and happy at the same time. Just, I’d imagine, she feels right now. I watch he as she closes her eyes, still working on my thumb. Does she have any idea what she’s doing? She must be, little vixen.
I let out a short breath of relief when she let go of my thumb and turned around to sit up. “What?” I asked her, still slightly dazed. Oh, alive. “Yes, you do. I was… I hadn’t much will to live before you showed up.” And that was the truth. Before she showed up, I just went through the motions, actually lacking the guts or perhaps the moral to end it myself. Oh god, now she’s moving her fingers… Please don’t start anything I wont be able to finish. I do hate to disappoint her.
Thankfully she seems to be able to read minds, or at least sense my predicament. My arms wrapped around her as she did the same as me. It was…cozy. Damn near domestic. “Everything?” I asked softly, rubbing my hand over her back. Everything? Was that good or bad?” “Does that make you happy?”
It does? Oh yes, there’s that silly smile again. I quickly try to coverer it up by coughing into my handkerchief, which promptly turns into a small coughing fit of course. But it makes her happy. I make her happy. No doubt I aggravate her as well. I mean, she does the same to me. Stubborn, strong headed, annoying, beautiful, sweet, caring Buffy of mine. She’s mine now, and nothing or no will come in between. No matter how hard they’ll try.
Angel Right. Not thinking about him. If he ever found out, I’d most certainly be dead. He will find out sooner or later though, nothing really stays a secret for long. Xander might get a grudge and overcome his hate for Angel. Willow may call Cordy and spill the beans. Christ, now I’m feeling even worse just as the though. Just think of Buffy and how you make her happy, Pryce. And it’ll all be alright. We’ll have to talk about Angel soon though. When I’m feeling better.
At the moment I just want to wallow in self-pity about being sick and indulge in Buffy taking care of me. How often do I have someone who wishes to take care of me? And this time it’s Buffy… Damn, there’s that silly smile again. Christ, how besotted can I get? The way I’m holding her, you’d almost think I could protect her. She may be the Slayer, but I’ll do everything I can to make certain no one, or nothing, will ever hurt her again.
Kissing the top of her head and tightening my grip as she turned around, I had to bite down on a yawn. She was getting infection. “Well, I’ll try,” I muttered, frowning slightly at the way my voice sounded. Scratchy, hoarse, much like it had when….she…cut my throat. No doubt the reason it hurts like hell also. Well, maybe Buffy will make me more of that soothing tea with honey tomorrow. A man can hope, right? “Goodnight, my love.”
Rollong on my side, I scooted over and smiled over him. "She is on our side, isn't she?" I grinned. The only one really, well, there was Willow and Tara, but they were usually happy for me no matter what. I remember Tara even told me that if I did want to be with Spike, that I could. Part of me did, but he just ... it got too complicated, too fast and now that's over. It's all over and now I have a semi-normal relationship with Wes of all people. Someone I never thought I'd even see again, let alone practically live with, playing June Cleaver or ... whoever that is.
Leaning down, I gave him a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back. I wanted to tell him everything, how I was and why I was who I was now, but I figured that was better left for a different time. Not right now when he was sick and he looked really tired.
"Get some sleep, baby," I said softly and moved back over to my side of the bed, sitting myself up so I could watch tv until I fell asleep.
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I’m still smiling at that thought and it widens even more when she kisses me. Part of me wants to just grab her and prolong the kiss, telling her how much I appreciate her being here with me. For me. And the fact that my usual stoic nature when it comes to being sick or wounded hasn’t scared her off. Cordy and Gunn had given up on that after a while, I can only hope she can see past that and doesn’t give up as well. I’m well aware I can be stubborn, even if I don’t admit to it.
“Hmmm, sleep,” I murmured, making myself comfortable against the pillows. I watched her get comfortable as well before sliding an arm around her and pulling her close. “There,” I sigh happily, closing my eyes. “Now I can sleep when you’re close by.” Peeking one eye open, I look at her and lean in to kiss her forehead. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I love her, but I’m not sure if that would scare her away. So I don’t say it, I swallow it down for another time. “Sleep well, love,” I say instead, letting my eyes close again.
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But she’d stirred, and then moved away. I shifted a bit against the pillows piled against the headboard and cracked one eye open. Buffy slid out of bed and padded out of the room. Probably needed to use the loo, or wanted a glass of water. She hadn’t looked distressed. When she slid back into bed again, I had nearly dozed off once more. She snuggled up to me and my arm automatically went around her as her leg tangled with mine.
It was nice, it was comforting, it was….what? It was a struggle to actually keep my eyes closed when she uttered those words. She loved me? My heart skipped a bit and part of me wanted to run, run away fast and far. She couldn’t love me, she shouldn’t love me. That never ended well, no matter how much I loved her right back. It must’ve been a spur of the moment thing, something like.. Like shaking hands. An automatism. I should let her be, not say anything. Of course I’ve never been one to listen to anyone, let alone myself.
“Do you?” I whispered.
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When she did move, she rolled over and looked at me. She glanced away quickly though, moving to sit up fully. I couldn't take my eyes off her, willing her to tell me the truth. Her mouth opened several times before the answer finally came out. She did. She said it so quietly I had to strain myself to hear it. She loved me and I could tell that frightened her. I didn't know why, but I understood. I was in the same position.
"I was sleeping, sort off. I just woke up. I'm not sorry I did though." I smiled at her hand held out my arm. "Come here," I whispered, though I had no idea why we were suddenly whispering. Perhaps because we were both afraid to break the moment. "Are you sorry you said it?" Because I sure as hell am not.
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There’s hardly any hesitation before she moves into my arms. A little bit of worry about the fact that I may be pushing her, falls away. She wouldn’t move so easily in my arms if she’d not meant those words, right? It makes me wonder if I can say those same words to her, because I know I’m very much afraid. Burned by love, rejected, cast aside as something that didn’t matter. I to, am afraid to get burned again, get hurt by love.
Why can’t it be simple? It should be something so simple and lovely.
When she finally replies, it’s not a flat out no, which has me confused and worried again. She’s afraid I’d leave her? After all we’ve gone through thus far, why would I do that? Oh, I’m sure there will be many bumps in the road ahead of us, knowing both of us, but what relationship hasn’t. This one is worth fighting for though, and she’s one of the first, odd as it may seem, who *hasn’t* rejected me.
I lean forward a bit and kiss her forehead, my hand coming up to comb through her silk hair. She seems to be holding on a little bit tighter after those words, as though she’s afraid I’d up and run right now. “Why would I want to leave?” I ask her quietly, smiling at her. “When I’ve such a lovely vision around. Buffy, you make me feel alive.” After I’ve been dead for so long. Metaphorically speaking of course. And I am resting. I’m laying in bed, that’s bloody resting. “I won’t leave you, love,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb over those velvet lips.
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Of course, had I not been ill, then we’d not be here in bed cuddling. She’d perhaps hadn’t felt less intimidated or vulnerable. And she’d *never* had said those two little words. Two little words that make me afraid and happy at the same time. Just, I’d imagine, she feels right now. I watch he as she closes her eyes, still working on my thumb. Does she have any idea what she’s doing? She must be, little vixen.
I let out a short breath of relief when she let go of my thumb and turned around to sit up. “What?” I asked her, still slightly dazed. Oh, alive. “Yes, you do. I was… I hadn’t much will to live before you showed up.” And that was the truth. Before she showed up, I just went through the motions, actually lacking the guts or perhaps the moral to end it myself. Oh god, now she’s moving her fingers… Please don’t start anything I wont be able to finish. I do hate to disappoint her.
Thankfully she seems to be able to read minds, or at least sense my predicament. My arms wrapped around her as she did the same as me. It was…cozy. Damn near domestic. “Everything?” I asked softly, rubbing my hand over her back. Everything? Was that good or bad?” “Does that make you happy?”
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Angel Right. Not thinking about him. If he ever found out, I’d most certainly be dead. He will find out sooner or later though, nothing really stays a secret for long. Xander might get a grudge and overcome his hate for Angel. Willow may call Cordy and spill the beans. Christ, now I’m feeling even worse just as the though. Just think of Buffy and how you make her happy, Pryce. And it’ll all be alright. We’ll have to talk about Angel soon though. When I’m feeling better.
At the moment I just want to wallow in self-pity about being sick and indulge in Buffy taking care of me. How often do I have someone who wishes to take care of me? And this time it’s Buffy… Damn, there’s that silly smile again. Christ, how besotted can I get? The way I’m holding her, you’d almost think I could protect her. She may be the Slayer, but I’ll do everything I can to make certain no one, or nothing, will ever hurt her again.
Kissing the top of her head and tightening my grip as she turned around, I had to bite down on a yawn. She was getting infection. “Well, I’ll try,” I muttered, frowning slightly at the way my voice sounded. Scratchy, hoarse, much like it had when….she…cut my throat. No doubt the reason it hurts like hell also. Well, maybe Buffy will make me more of that soothing tea with honey tomorrow. A man can hope, right? “Goodnight, my love.”
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