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.”
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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