(no subject)
After Cordelia went upstairs, I cleaned up the kitchen a bit, taking care of the plates and silverware, then the coffee mugs. As I put them away, I glanced at the mug that Doyle had used once, before Cordelia had commented on how beat up it was; it was still stuffed away at the back of the cupboard where she had hidden it.
When I was done, I wandered into the office, settling down behind the desk and I sighed, running a hand through my hair. There was a picture sitting on the desk, one of Cordy, Doyle and I... I hated having pictures taken, and now, I remembered why- all they did was remind me of what I had lost. Like the picture of Buffy and I that Doyle had run across one time; I had lost Buffy. The picture of her, Xander, Giles, Willow, and I- I had lost all of those friendships, as well, with my rampage as Angelus.
Reaching across, I turned the picture over so I didn't have to look at it, and closed my eyes. I knew that I couldn't blame myself for Doyle's death, but... wasn't it my fault? I hadn't checked in... And now I had to worry about Spike being back in town, as well as his 'new girl'. Like there wasn't enough going on? It was almost like being back in Sunnydale already.
I closed my eyes, leaning back in my chair, as I tried to push thoughts of Doyle out of my head. I needed to be able to concentrate, to be able to think... or to clear my head enough to sleep. I hadn't slept much in the past few days, what with everything that was going on. I knew that I should probably work on getting sleep, because I would need it... I just wanted to make sure that Cordelia and Faith would be safe overnight, that Spike wouldn't come back while I was sleeping... but I just couldn't keep my eyes open. Maybe they were right, I did brood too much...
When I was done, I wandered into the office, settling down behind the desk and I sighed, running a hand through my hair. There was a picture sitting on the desk, one of Cordy, Doyle and I... I hated having pictures taken, and now, I remembered why- all they did was remind me of what I had lost. Like the picture of Buffy and I that Doyle had run across one time; I had lost Buffy. The picture of her, Xander, Giles, Willow, and I- I had lost all of those friendships, as well, with my rampage as Angelus.
Reaching across, I turned the picture over so I didn't have to look at it, and closed my eyes. I knew that I couldn't blame myself for Doyle's death, but... wasn't it my fault? I hadn't checked in... And now I had to worry about Spike being back in town, as well as his 'new girl'. Like there wasn't enough going on? It was almost like being back in Sunnydale already.
I closed my eyes, leaning back in my chair, as I tried to push thoughts of Doyle out of my head. I needed to be able to concentrate, to be able to think... or to clear my head enough to sleep. I hadn't slept much in the past few days, what with everything that was going on. I knew that I should probably work on getting sleep, because I would need it... I just wanted to make sure that Cordelia and Faith would be safe overnight, that Spike wouldn't come back while I was sleeping... but I just couldn't keep my eyes open. Maybe they were right, I did brood too much...