the hurricane i'll never outrun;

[todoright]

They're taking it slow.

He learned his lesson, the last time during the day that's now only a memory. One that he alone possesses. It's bittersweet to think about, because for every perfect moment they had together, he remembers Buffy crying in his arms. This is something Angel hadn't ever hoped to reclaim, even if he had thought about it (and

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[chose]

To wake up next to the one you love. While a lifelong dream and goal for some people, this has always been something of an impossibility for Buffy, too many factors constantly standing in between herself and the one she loves. A vampire. For a long time, the mere idea of it made her angry, wishing she could find whichever higher power scripted that particular brand of torment and show it just how unappreciative she could be. It was a cruel joke, and one she felt most undeserving of, given everything else she was expected to sacrifice.

Now, all of that seems like a distant nightmare, the same way that this reality was once no more than a wishful daydream. Maybe she can't have it all (she still misses Dawn, Willow, and Giles more than she can bear) but she has something else, something she never dare to hope for. Someday it might not be enough anymore, but for now it is, and she has every intention of enjoying it to the fullest.

"Morning," she half-mumbles around a yawn, too warm and comfortable to move yet but to rub the sleep from her eyes as she smiles up at Angel.

[todoright]

"Morning," Angel nods, showing no hint of sleepiness as he'd already been awake for more than an hour. Even after a few weeks on the island, the idea of sleeping at night was an entirely foreign one to him - after all, his nights were when he was most active. Yet it seems like such a small sacrifice to pay in order to have moments like these.

There's static in her hair and it makes strands of it float up, which makes the corners of his mouth tug upwards a millimeter as he gently bats them down. It feels like a dream.

It feels like that day.

Only the steady beating in his chest convinced him otherwise.

This can't last, can it? Angel's been far too accustomed to the temporary when it came to Buffy. He sees the big picture - or is forced to see it, because of the longevity of his life. It's a natural human defense mechanism to only be able to live for the now.

It can't last, but he wants it to.

[chose]

There is a part of Buffy which understands just as well that this cannot last. But there is an equally (if not more) powerful part of her that needs to ignore that fact, if only for the time being. A part that, from childhood, was promised the world and anything else she could possibly desire, only to have it violently torn away at the tender age of fifteen. A part that still dreams of a far away land with a castle and her charming prince, naïve though it may be. It's the part of her that never grew up, while the rest of her was forced to do so quicker than expected and in rather unpleasant ways.

"Been up long?" wonders Buffy, instinctively burrowing in closer to him, still utterly giddy at the idea that she can soak up his body heat. He has body heat. It's all that a girl could ever dream of, which makes it so difficult to think clearly at times like these, and to be rational. To understand that there is no forever for them, no matter how hard she might wish it so.

[todoright]

She's not the only one that's surprised to feel his heart beat and the fact that there is blood pumping through his veins or mundane things like back pain that has become an unfortunate reality sometimes, when he forgets that he's human and overexerts himself. Every sense is natural as opposed to landing squarely on the 'super' end of that spectrum, but he still feels her small body burrowing closer to him and this time, the requisite hunger and the ache at the back of his throat is gone.

"Not too long," he replies casually - knowing that the truth will inspire worry in her, but he can't deny that it's cute when she does. Still, Angel sugarcoats, even with these small things. If she knew, she'd be furious - but she doesn't, and that's what counts.

[chose]

This is the sort of thing Buffy doesn't - or, at least, tries not to - stress. There is little doubt in her mind that Angel has been awake for a while, doing that mildly creepy thing he does where he watches her sleep more than he actually does any sleeping of his own, but rather than upset herself, Buffy finds it strangely endearing. For all that things have changed between them, for all that they have been through, at the end of the day, Angel is still Angel and Buffy is still Buffy. It helps ease the small part of her that sometimes worried it was the slayer in her that attracted him and not the girl.

"Good," she breathes, anyway, with a small, knowing smile. She leans up and presses a soft, quick kiss to his lips. "How'd you sleep?"

[todoright]

"I'm not used to this whole 'sleeping at night' thing," Angel tells her with a quiet amount of sheepishness. It isn't as if he slept very much even in Los Angeles. There were always things to do in the daylight that couldn't be ignored, and there was always the sewer system if he needed to get around. He was never wanting for energy, but Angel was hardly one to spend all day in bed either, when there was work to be done.

It's surprising how quickly Buffy can overturn this conviction, to the point where lying here beneath these sheets all day actually seems perfect. He smiles into the kiss, leaving it light, going slow. Not pushing things. Years of forced celibacy and estrangement from human contact had given him a remarkable sense of self control. Of course, Buffy could also challenge that at times.

"Any plans for today?"

[chose]

"Apart from this?" Buffy, likewise, has little desire to anything but this all day, and maybe the next as well. There is a part of her, in fact, that might not mind at all if this was all she did for the rest of eternity. Granted, even this is something she could get bored of, but she hasn't had nearly enough yet. Likely never will, really, if her life until now has any bearing on what's yet to come.

She pulls away from his lips at last, but only to rest her head in the crook of his shoulder. It never gets old, to find warmth there, where there once was only cold. Maybe there are certain things she may indeed never tire of. "Nothing better comes to mind."

[todoright]

For a moment, Angel smiles. It is not something anyone would note as a common occurrence, and yet Buffy has been able to make him do so with alarming regularity over the past few weeks. Even with all of the echoing memories of a particularly painful time, he does so anyways and in that sense is particularly short-sighted for a 247 year old.

He'd tried. Angel had tried and the fact remained that the island was simply too small for them to avoid each other like they used to.

But that was dangerous thinking, to get too complacent like this.

Still, he brings up an arm to snuggle her in more tightly against him, marveling once again at how neatly she fits. "You know, I always took you for the active type."