(no subject)
Title: Because the Night
Author: morningafter2
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Past Willow/Tara, one sentence mention of Willow/Kennedy, but a lot of it's Willow mope.
Challenge and Prompt: Challenge four, prompt two.
Words: 501 (Sorry! Do I need to duck for cover now?)
Spoilers/Season: Spoilerish for the end of season six, though just for the W/T storyline. Set season seven or afterwards.
Notes: I took a small bit of liberty with the last bit, so it's no longer a sentence on its own and now part of one of mine.
Night has gone on too long. As a kid, night was my time. I loved everything about it. Then, night was calm, pleasant. Daytime always seemed too hectic to me. But what I loved most was the silence. Thanks to some divine irony, that same silence has become what I dread. Every night, the silence plays a sadistic game of Jenga with what's left of my endurance, each piece that falls leaving me more afraid, more uncertain, more miserable than before.
Though the silence of the innocent is completely different from this kind. I realize now that even when it's silent, it isn't. Not really. If I listen, I can hear the rumblings of the demonic underworld that I somehow never noticed before. I suppose it's not that surprising that I never noticed. I've been in Sunnydale my whole life. The thumps and bumps in the night were always just there, and without knowing what they were, it was easy for them to be classified as part of the "silence".
When I found out what they were, it was both refreshing and utterly terrifying. I had help with that, though. From Buffy, Xander, and Giles. But mostly from you. At first I thought you might be the one person on earth who was more awkward than me, and that was an appealing thought. But you weren't. I'm still not sure if I was originally attracted to you because I wanted someone who could help me out of my Wicca slump, or because I needed something to take my mind off Oz. I just know that I didn't mean to love you, and I certainly didn't mean to lose you.
It feels strange to say I'm moving on with my life, because even if I am, I'm also not. I'm dating again, but she still has to lead me by the hand to keep me from withdrawing into myself most of the time. I find myself smiling a lot more, too, and I can even do some magic without going evil. I fight it though, because you're someone I don't want to move on from. I don't ever want to love you less, or love someone else more.
I don't know how many drinks I've had. Enough to ensure that any cop who wasn't passed out from a donut overdose would arrest me if I went anywhere near the driver's side of a car, and definitely enough to take me out of the "fit to perform magic" category. But I don't care, and somewhere in my mind, I know that isn't a good thing. You live at the bottom of every bottle, and with the alcohol coursing through my veins, I can forget the rest of the world. Even though I know you aren't really here, I can look to my side and see you sitting there with me, smiling. It only takes a little assistance, and you are alive to me once more. Just a little help, and you are no longer a thought.
Author: morningafter2
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Past Willow/Tara, one sentence mention of Willow/Kennedy, but a lot of it's Willow mope.
Challenge and Prompt: Challenge four, prompt two.
Words: 501 (Sorry! Do I need to duck for cover now?)
Spoilers/Season: Spoilerish for the end of season six, though just for the W/T storyline. Set season seven or afterwards.
Notes: I took a small bit of liberty with the last bit, so it's no longer a sentence on its own and now part of one of mine.
Night has gone on too long. As a kid, night was my time. I loved everything about it. Then, night was calm, pleasant. Daytime always seemed too hectic to me. But what I loved most was the silence. Thanks to some divine irony, that same silence has become what I dread. Every night, the silence plays a sadistic game of Jenga with what's left of my endurance, each piece that falls leaving me more afraid, more uncertain, more miserable than before.
Though the silence of the innocent is completely different from this kind. I realize now that even when it's silent, it isn't. Not really. If I listen, I can hear the rumblings of the demonic underworld that I somehow never noticed before. I suppose it's not that surprising that I never noticed. I've been in Sunnydale my whole life. The thumps and bumps in the night were always just there, and without knowing what they were, it was easy for them to be classified as part of the "silence".
When I found out what they were, it was both refreshing and utterly terrifying. I had help with that, though. From Buffy, Xander, and Giles. But mostly from you. At first I thought you might be the one person on earth who was more awkward than me, and that was an appealing thought. But you weren't. I'm still not sure if I was originally attracted to you because I wanted someone who could help me out of my Wicca slump, or because I needed something to take my mind off Oz. I just know that I didn't mean to love you, and I certainly didn't mean to lose you.
It feels strange to say I'm moving on with my life, because even if I am, I'm also not. I'm dating again, but she still has to lead me by the hand to keep me from withdrawing into myself most of the time. I find myself smiling a lot more, too, and I can even do some magic without going evil. I fight it though, because you're someone I don't want to move on from. I don't ever want to love you less, or love someone else more.
I don't know how many drinks I've had. Enough to ensure that any cop who wasn't passed out from a donut overdose would arrest me if I went anywhere near the driver's side of a car, and definitely enough to take me out of the "fit to perform magic" category. But I don't care, and somewhere in my mind, I know that isn't a good thing. You live at the bottom of every bottle, and with the alcohol coursing through my veins, I can forget the rest of the world. Even though I know you aren't really here, I can look to my side and see you sitting there with me, smiling. It only takes a little assistance, and you are alive to me once more. Just a little help, and you are no longer a thought.