Jun 09, 2005 00:32
I was tucked away about as deeply as I could be, wrapped up in the duvet and doing my best to avoid the increasingly-insistant sunlight. Somewhere in the night a single down feather had escaped from the covers and now rested at eye level, close enough so that its gentle swishy details loomed in mountain like persepctive. Somehow I found the energy to peek my head out a bit and give a gentle blow, sending the feather into full flight. Smiling, and with one random mission accomplished, I nestled back to my original position.
And drat.
Now the morning light seemed even brighter than before. Was it some sort of pushishment for moving? I peeked through closed lids, testing my theory. Oh yes - I was most definitley being punished. And pulling a small face, I decided I didn't like it one bit.
After all, my name wasn't Spike. Or Druscilla. Or Faith. Or is one really disturbing dream? Giles. No, when I joked about 'Mistress of Pain' it was just that -- a joke. The punishing with the accompying enjoying club had plenty of others without me, was my thinking.
Sighing, and finially admitting to the day in my day, I turned over in the bed and greeted the person who rested just on the other side of me.
"So," I forced out with a yawn. "What do you want to do today?"
((Open to Buffy!))