Drabble Series - Fleeting Thoughts
Title: Fleeting Thoughts
Author: cosmosmariner
Pairing: Various
Rating: T
Summary: A look into the minds of four very different people.
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Joss, ME, or anyone involved in the BtVS franchise.
What would it taste like? I wanted to know the moment I laid eyes on her. I can almost feel her warm blood running down my chin. I can almost taste it, so full of life, but not quite. The memories of other throats I’ve drained interfere with my imagination. When I look at her, the perfectly coiffed blond hair, tight leather jacket, skirt that hugs her thighs as she strolls the graveyard - I get a little hungry. I crave blood, but only hers would satisfy. I can’t catch her, so I wait, and wonder. What would The Slayer taste like?
It’s not fair. When I look at Willow, I see everything I want to be. When I look at Buffy or Mom, I see strength. I look at myself and I see someone who doesn’t belong. I see confusion. Who am I? I want to fit in, to feel like I’m part of something. I’m tired of being the weird little girl, tired of being the fifth wheel when Buffy is with her friends. I can’t seem to do anything right. I don’t have any special powers. I’m not even a good sister. I really hate looking in the mirror.
Oh, I like to kiss. I kiss and then I run away. It’s my style. It’s the easy way, the trouble-free way to be. It used to work. Instead of doing what I know is right, I ran. So simple. So cowardly. So Xander Harris. When I’ve got a good thing going, I throw it away. Always have. Always will. It’ll never change, because I’m afraid. But I’m lonely. Moron! Why can’t you just leave well enough alone? I keep picking the ripe fruit of love and then turning it into applesauce. Damn! I can’t even get a metaphor right.
I had already felt the sting of the life I was living, the quiet, whispered accusations because I was a witch and a lesbian. I had Tara to hold, friends who loved me, but I didn’t care if I threw it all away for the power of magic. I never felt anything like it before, and I wanted more. Much more. I can’t pretend it wasn’t a rush. It coursed through my veins, and I wanted action. I’d give everything up for one fix. It was better than ice cream, better than chocolate, better than sex. Danger had improved me.
Author: cosmosmariner
Pairing: Various
Rating: T
Summary: A look into the minds of four very different people.
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Joss, ME, or anyone involved in the BtVS franchise.
What would it taste like? I wanted to know the moment I laid eyes on her. I can almost feel her warm blood running down my chin. I can almost taste it, so full of life, but not quite. The memories of other throats I’ve drained interfere with my imagination. When I look at her, the perfectly coiffed blond hair, tight leather jacket, skirt that hugs her thighs as she strolls the graveyard - I get a little hungry. I crave blood, but only hers would satisfy. I can’t catch her, so I wait, and wonder. What would The Slayer taste like?
It’s not fair. When I look at Willow, I see everything I want to be. When I look at Buffy or Mom, I see strength. I look at myself and I see someone who doesn’t belong. I see confusion. Who am I? I want to fit in, to feel like I’m part of something. I’m tired of being the weird little girl, tired of being the fifth wheel when Buffy is with her friends. I can’t seem to do anything right. I don’t have any special powers. I’m not even a good sister. I really hate looking in the mirror.
Oh, I like to kiss. I kiss and then I run away. It’s my style. It’s the easy way, the trouble-free way to be. It used to work. Instead of doing what I know is right, I ran. So simple. So cowardly. So Xander Harris. When I’ve got a good thing going, I throw it away. Always have. Always will. It’ll never change, because I’m afraid. But I’m lonely. Moron! Why can’t you just leave well enough alone? I keep picking the ripe fruit of love and then turning it into applesauce. Damn! I can’t even get a metaphor right.
I had already felt the sting of the life I was living, the quiet, whispered accusations because I was a witch and a lesbian. I had Tara to hold, friends who loved me, but I didn’t care if I threw it all away for the power of magic. I never felt anything like it before, and I wanted more. Much more. I can’t pretend it wasn’t a rush. It coursed through my veins, and I wanted action. I’d give everything up for one fix. It was better than ice cream, better than chocolate, better than sex. Danger had improved me.