Let it all out, he says. I almost want to laugh bitterly at that. Let it al out. I can hear my fathers voice berating me for allowing me to let it slide this far. Accepting comfort from a bloody vampire of all things. And not just any vampire, no, the scourge of Europe no less. Father would crucify me alive and burn me on a stake just for that. Well, he’ll probably disown me, but only because he can’t get away with the first. I hope. Actually, I don’t really care.
Taking deep measured breath, I try to do exactly the opposite of what Angel told me to do. It’s hard and I can hear myself sniffling. I can feel the wetness on my fade. Ashamed, I bury my head against his chest for as long as he’ll let me. For all I know he may grow tired of it soon, or it’ll get to much and he’ll push me away again. Like he’s done so many times before. But I’m always there, waiting for him whenever he feels the need to return.
I want to believe him when he says he’s forgiven me. But there is a large part of me yelling at me that I don’t deserve his forgiveness. I cost him his family. The road to hell and all that. And how right they were. Look where I ended up. One way ticked to hell.
Then I can feel strong fingers under my chin, tilting my head up. Quickly my hand comes up to wipe away the tears as I look at him embarrassed. His face is so close by, and I have to swallow hard. Tongue darting out to lick dry lips, I slowly move my eyes up to look into his. They always made me feel as though I was drowning in them, its not any different now.
“You do?” I ask with a mix of fear and hope. “You…didn’t?” I’m slightly confused by this as I try to make sense of it all. He needed me? Even then? Why? After everything I did? “I don’t…. I don’t understand.” Taking a shaky breath, I try not let my eyes stay over his face. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen it this close.
He looks so young and lost trying desperately to wipe the tears away. I watch the column of his throat as he swallows, and then track his tongue when it darts out suddenly. Kiss him My body is telling me, yes, yes, yes, but I can't help thinking, no, no, no. This is comfort, that's all. I can't help but notice my head moving in closer and I can feel his breath on my face, quick and hot.
I feel like I lost Connor all over again when I hear the question in his voice. All the times I should have told him everything. Should have said how much I loved him. How much I needed him. How much he means. How hard it was to keep going without him. And when it was his face I saw after coming up out of the ocean, how much I wanted to hold him and feel that he was there next to me. That he hadn't left me behind. Hadn't left me to rot. That maybe I hadn't lost everything.
"Yeah, I do." I whisper, the hope in his voice rips at something in my chest making me ache all over. "Of course, I didn't, Wes. You've always been there for me. Even when you took Connor, I kept thinking you'd be there the next time I turned around. That you would save me from myself. I-" I can't. Can't say it. I stroke his cheek with my thumb, still keeping his eyes on mine. "I need you, Wes. We're family." Fucked up, maybe, but still family. "You're mine."
That blue meeting my gaze is strong and silent. I always feel safe there. I want more, but I can't ask him to give me more than he's already given. I want him. He's mine, my family, my Wes. His eyes are so clear, I can almost see that old innocence. I want to taste that. See if it's still inside him. But I hesitate, still so close to his mouth, his smell, his breath, his warmth. I don't want to rush this. He's so fragile in my arms. I don't want to lose him. But I don't want to wait another millenia for the chance. "Wes?" I can barely hear myself say it. My lips stay parted, the question hanging in the air... whether I have the courage to finish it is another matter entirely.
This is pathetic. The last time I cried was when F-Fred died. Was ripped way, burned from the inside out and that blue thing took over. And now all it takes is Angel’s arms to make me nearly break down. I’ll not do it though, I can’t. To much to let go off. Not just Fred, but years and years of build up anger, frustration, pain just begging to be let out. I can’t do that to him. I can’t do that to anyone.
He is so close by, those familiar lips are so close by. There should be a cool breath on my face, but there’s not. There is no steady heartbeat under the hand on his chest. There is no warmth seeping through from his skin. Yet, he’s more alive to me then anyone else in this building. The rest are dead, walking zombies, much like myself I suspect. He is the only thing I’ve left, the only one. I cannot trust Charles any longer. I’ve no idea where Lorne is. I hardly know Spike and then there’s Illyria. There’s only him left.
So what was he doing messing around with that lawyer with then? Answers me boy! I don’t know father, I don’t care. He’s here with me now, so close by it almost hurts.
What really does hurt are his next words however. I need to blink several times, but it’s of very little use. I want to look away, unable to see those honest, warm brown eyes. Knowing in my mind that he’s telling the truth. But my heart aches at the need to reject it. Oh how well it remembers being ripped out and then stomped upon. I cannot blame it for being careful.
His hand is on my cheek and I lean into it, nearly closing my eyes a the touch. And when he says that I’m his my heart skips another beat or two, my breath hitches and I have to bite my bottom lip hard to keep it from wobbling. God, I’m such a pathetic fool. Just a few words I long to hear, and I’d be all over him. If only I’d remember how to move.
All I can do is look into his eyes, so close by. His lips, his scent, the coolness of his body, the firmness of his body. And I just want to shift myself, put my head down in his lap and sleep. Let him hold me while I finally sleep, let him keep the nightmares away like he promised. But those lips…so close by. I shift a little, bringing us close, wanting to lean in as though magically drawn when he calls my name again. It’s falls from his lips like a forbidden whisper.
“Yes, Angel?” I whisper back, not pulling away, not moving. I can’t, if I move, I’ll fall into that black hole.
His face is burning into my hand. His eyes trap me, and I couldn't look away for one more perfect moment with Buffy, or hearing my son call me Dad and him believing it. Why couldn't this have been years ago? Where would we be then? But Wes is here, right here. So close. So close it's painful; I want it so badly. Want him so badly. To be right here like this. To finally have someone by my side again. Things could be different, but this is good enough right now.
Doesn't mean I'm any less worried about screwing this up. "Is this..." I look in his eyes, and realize he's not pulling away, just staying close to me, lips meltingly close. I still don't know how to ask this. In fact, I'm sure I've never asked this. Never asked for permission. But Wes is important. This is one of those make or break moments. And I just want it to get something right with him.
"Is this... okay?" I dart my tongue out to lick just where he licked a few moments ago, finding a taste, letting myself be tempted. And then I'm kissing him lightly, letting a few gaps fall between our mouths and then I realize this is Wes and I can't stop kissing him, won't stop kissing him. My hand runs along his back and I pull him closer if it's possible, but my brain is on his mouth and possibility isn't even a flicker of concern on my radar. My only concern is this stopping. And it will. But for now, he's here, letting me kiss him. I don't know why or how, but this is happening. And I'm starved for more.
This is wrong. I shouldn't be doing this. This isn't why he came here, this isn't what he wanted. This is wrong. What about Fred? You just lost Fred. But for some reason I think Fred would understand. She was always far more perceptive then most people assumed. She knew there was a bond between Angel and myself that went beyond friendship.
She'd understand. But I still can't help but feel as though I'm betraying her by wanting this. By wanting him. Needing him. At the moment though, he's the only one standing between me and insanity. The only one who's keeping me grounded. I should be angry at him for taking away my memories. For doing this. But I understand, and I need it as much as he seems to. At least I hope he does. I hope he's not doing this out of some kind of misguided pity.
God, please let him want this as much as I do.
But then his tongue flicks out, lightly tracing my lips and I freeze. Afraid to move and lose the magic of the moment. Making him bolt out the door and leave me alone again. Without anyone. Without love. Without touch. Without hope. He hesitates and my eyes go wide as he oh so very slowly moves in and his lips are finally on mine in a whisper of a real kiss.
His hands run over my back and I let him pull me in closer. Tilting my head, I part my lips as though it's second nature to let him in, let him taste me. I am your faithful servant, Angel. My eyes close and my body moves closer to him as I start to kiss him back tentatively at first. Tangling my hand in his hair, I sigh into his mouth as though it's coming from my toes. There are stars and I think I need air. But I'll be damned if I know why, because right now? Angel is kissing me, and that's all that counts. For now.
He doesn’t respond right away and I’m about to pull away. I’ve done it, ruined everything again. Wrong choice, Angel. Just couldn’t get enough could you, had to break him too.
Finally, when his hand tangles in my hair, I can’t stop the electricity that goes straight to my groin, straight through to my fingertips and toes. He wants this. I kiss him back, fiercely, greedily. Too strong. He’s going to push me away. Run away. Disappear.
But it’s Wes. I think I moan his name, but I’m still reeling from knowing that Wes is kissing me
I doubt I’ll ever stop tripping over those words.
That sigh that he lets loose is like a breath of life in my mouth, and I’m wondering if this is a new beginning. I hope it is. I can’t go back now. He tastes- He feels- There’s no words to describe it except for longing. I've wanted this since I can’t remember. Cordy was there when Wes wasn’t, and I can’t forget her, with Wes I never could. But we’re a family. Which is why I wish Wes and I could latch on tighter, get it right this time. Be more for each other. For Cordy. She would have wanted it that way.
“Waited.” I kiss him again between words. "Wanted," I say against his mouth. “So long.” I nip his lower lip lightly. “Too long.” It's not coherent, but I just want to keep kissing him, forget about everything else, and just be here with him. Let him rest. Let him feel safe.
Moaning into his mouth as his kiss become stronger, fiercer, possessive almost I nearly wrench my mouth away to breath. But I can’t, I don’t want to. I need this, I need him, I need his taste on my tongue. Need to know he’ll be tasting me, need to know he wants to taste me. But his the way he’s kissing me is anything to go by, I’ll have to say…yes.
When I finally do move my mouth away, there really are stars dancing in front of my eyes. I’m still so tired, that this is starting to feel like a dream. And I’m afraid to wake up and find myself alone again. In an empty, cold office with nothing but books to keep me company. Not Angel’s arms around me, nor his words whispering promises of want and need to me.
And even though my mind and body are exhausted, I can feel it react to his words as much as his touch. A small whimper escapes me and I pull my head back to look at him, trying to get my eyes to focus through the haze. Blinking a few times doesn’t seem to help, but I do notice I’m nearly half in his lap. He makes a most wonderful pillow.
“Why did you wait?” I ask softly, my thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. So soft, so full, so very kissable. So very mine for this moment. God only knows when it’ll be over again and I’ll be alone once more.
His moan undoes me, and I'm dragging him onto my lap, but not really focused enough to get him more than halfway. I want so much more, want to touch and feel and taste so much more, because I know this is going to be over soon, and things will have to go back to the way we were before. No touching, no wanting, nothing. My hands get tighter with the fear of losing him.
When we break apart his face is dizzy and his eyes glazed. Thoroughly tired, and well-kissed. A little smile creeps across my face as I try not to think of the other possible ways that I could get to see his face look like this. Imagination is not going to help get myself under control here.
His thumb reaches my lips and the soft, reverent contact pulls a groan from me, and I lick the tip of his finger with my tongue. He tastes like salt and ink and I want to taste more. See what other parts of him taste like. This is probably too far already. He's not ready for this. Fred just basically died, you idiot. He's probably just needs someone in that role right now. I should let him get away gracefully, not keep trying to get more from him, but I don't let go, not even a little.
It finally registers through my haze what he's said. "Why?" I nip at the end of his thumb, wanting more, but holding back a little. My thumbs are making lazy circles at his hips, trying to distract us both. Him from listening to what I say, and me from pulling him entirely into my lap. "Didn't think you wanted this. Cordy said, but I- It was never the right time and then... A bunch of stupid reasons, I guess. Mostly, I never trusted myself with you, Wes." I've been looking at his hand, his lips, any where else the whole time, but I raise my eyes to his finally. "Was I wrong?"
I feel so adrift these days. Lost in all the memories and things coming at me. I never know where to stand to get out of harm's way, and hearing myself sound so small and lost doesn't make the worry any less. It just brings up more ways that I'll be vulnerable if I let this keep going. I can't let myself do this with Wes. I'll only drag him down with me. And if someone finds out and uses him to get to me... Not gonna happen, but if it did I'd never forgive myself.
There is an answering groan coming from me when his tongue darts out to lick the pad of my thumb. I’m almost temped to push it into that cool mouth, wanting to feel what that’s like. But I don’t, though there as a jolt of arousal going through me when he nips at my skin. A shudder follows suite and I can’t seem to look away from him. Quite mesmerized, magically drawn in by his eyes, his words, his body, his scent. It reminds me of times gone by, times we can never get back.
Willingly I move when he pulls me entirely into his lap. Straddling him, which for some reason doesn’t feel as awkward as it should, I place my hand on his shoulder for balance. My jeans are suddenly to tight, but that’s not what matters. His answer is, as though it’s the most important thing. Pressing slightly forward, I tilt my head and blink when he finally speaks, looking anywhere but at me. So many opportunities lost, so many chances of never knowing. Because of what?
How can he think I never wanted this? Where *had* those eyes of him been in those early days. I damn near practically threw me at him until Cordy dragged me apart and had a few words about subtlety. And…something about flirting, I don’t thing I ever really grasped that concept. But I just thought he wasn’t interested, locked my own desire away and just focused on becoming his friend. At least I could still have that. Until I lost that as well. It hurt more then he’ll ever know. It may have even hurt more then loosing Fred.
I frowned at the sound of his voice, so small, vulnerable, un-Angel like. Bringing up both hands, I cupped his face and gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t matter now,” I whispered. He had been wrong. There’s nothing we can do to change that however, and I wont allow him to heap more guilt on his plate. Hesitantly, I leaned in, my eyes locked with his, searching for something before I brush my lips over those cool ones. It’s a slow, almost chaste kiss. But then my hand tangles in his hair and my hips push forward on their own violation.
“I’ve always trusted you with myself,” I mumbled, when we pull back because I need air. Damn air. I have, I’ve always trusted Angel. It was Angelus I didn’t trust with Connor. “I’ve always...” loved, “...cared for you.”
Taking deep measured breath, I try to do exactly the opposite of what Angel told me to do. It’s hard and I can hear myself sniffling. I can feel the wetness on my fade. Ashamed, I bury my head against his chest for as long as he’ll let me. For all I know he may grow tired of it soon, or it’ll get to much and he’ll push me away again. Like he’s done so many times before. But I’m always there, waiting for him whenever he feels the need to return.
I want to believe him when he says he’s forgiven me. But there is a large part of me yelling at me that I don’t deserve his forgiveness. I cost him his family. The road to hell and all that. And how right they were. Look where I ended up. One way ticked to hell.
Then I can feel strong fingers under my chin, tilting my head up. Quickly my hand comes up to wipe away the tears as I look at him embarrassed. His face is so close by, and I have to swallow hard. Tongue darting out to lick dry lips, I slowly move my eyes up to look into his. They always made me feel as though I was drowning in them, its not any different now.
“You do?” I ask with a mix of fear and hope. “You…didn’t?” I’m slightly confused by this as I try to make sense of it all. He needed me? Even then? Why? After everything I did? “I don’t…. I don’t understand.” Taking a shaky breath, I try not let my eyes stay over his face. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen it this close.
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I feel like I lost Connor all over again when I hear the question in his voice. All the times I should have told him everything. Should have said how much I loved him. How much I needed him. How much he means. How hard it was to keep going without him. And when it was his face I saw after coming up out of the ocean, how much I wanted to hold him and feel that he was there next to me. That he hadn't left me behind. Hadn't left me to rot. That maybe I hadn't lost everything.
"Yeah, I do." I whisper, the hope in his voice rips at something in my chest making me ache all over. "Of course, I didn't, Wes. You've always been there for me. Even when you took Connor, I kept thinking you'd be there the next time I turned around. That you would save me from myself. I-" I can't. Can't say it. I stroke his cheek with my thumb, still keeping his eyes on mine. "I need you, Wes. We're family." Fucked up, maybe, but still family. "You're mine."
That blue meeting my gaze is strong and silent. I always feel safe there. I want more, but I can't ask him to give me more than he's already given. I want him. He's mine, my family, my Wes. His eyes are so clear, I can almost see that old innocence. I want to taste that. See if it's still inside him. But I hesitate, still so close to his mouth, his smell, his breath, his warmth. I don't want to rush this. He's so fragile in my arms. I don't want to lose him. But I don't want to wait another millenia for the chance. "Wes?" I can barely hear myself say it. My lips stay parted, the question hanging in the air... whether I have the courage to finish it is another matter entirely.
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He is so close by, those familiar lips are so close by. There should be a cool breath on my face, but there’s not. There is no steady heartbeat under the hand on his chest. There is no warmth seeping through from his skin. Yet, he’s more alive to me then anyone else in this building. The rest are dead, walking zombies, much like myself I suspect. He is the only thing I’ve left, the only one. I cannot trust Charles any longer. I’ve no idea where Lorne is. I hardly know Spike and then there’s Illyria. There’s only him left.
So what was he doing messing around with that lawyer with then? Answers me boy! I don’t know father, I don’t care. He’s here with me now, so close by it almost hurts.
What really does hurt are his next words however. I need to blink several times, but it’s of very little use. I want to look away, unable to see those honest, warm brown eyes. Knowing in my mind that he’s telling the truth. But my heart aches at the need to reject it. Oh how well it remembers being ripped out and then stomped upon. I cannot blame it for being careful.
His hand is on my cheek and I lean into it, nearly closing my eyes a the touch. And when he says that I’m his my heart skips another beat or two, my breath hitches and I have to bite my bottom lip hard to keep it from wobbling. God, I’m such a pathetic fool. Just a few words I long to hear, and I’d be all over him. If only I’d remember how to move.
All I can do is look into his eyes, so close by. His lips, his scent, the coolness of his body, the firmness of his body. And I just want to shift myself, put my head down in his lap and sleep. Let him hold me while I finally sleep, let him keep the nightmares away like he promised. But those lips…so close by. I shift a little, bringing us close, wanting to lean in as though magically drawn when he calls my name again. It’s falls from his lips like a forbidden whisper.
“Yes, Angel?” I whisper back, not pulling away, not moving. I can’t, if I move, I’ll fall into that black hole.
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Doesn't mean I'm any less worried about screwing this up. "Is this..." I look in his eyes, and realize he's not pulling away, just staying close to me, lips meltingly close. I still don't know how to ask this. In fact, I'm sure I've never asked this. Never asked for permission. But Wes is important. This is one of those make or break moments. And I just want it to get something right with him.
"Is this... okay?" I dart my tongue out to lick just where he licked a few moments ago, finding a taste, letting myself be tempted. And then I'm kissing him lightly, letting a few gaps fall between our mouths and then I realize this is Wes and I can't stop kissing him, won't stop kissing him. My hand runs along his back and I pull him closer if it's possible, but my brain is on his mouth and possibility isn't even a flicker of concern on my radar. My only concern is this stopping. And it will. But for now, he's here, letting me kiss him. I don't know why or how, but this is happening. And I'm starved for more.
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She'd understand. But I still can't help but feel as though I'm betraying her by wanting this. By wanting him. Needing him. At the moment though, he's the only one standing between me and insanity. The only one who's keeping me grounded. I should be angry at him for taking away my memories. For doing this. But I understand, and I need it as much as he seems to. At least I hope he does. I hope he's not doing this out of some kind of misguided pity.
God, please let him want this as much as I do.
But then his tongue flicks out, lightly tracing my lips and I freeze. Afraid to move and lose the magic of the moment. Making him bolt out the door and leave me alone again. Without anyone. Without love. Without touch. Without hope. He hesitates and my eyes go wide as he oh so very slowly moves in and his lips are finally on mine in a whisper of a real kiss.
His hands run over my back and I let him pull me in closer. Tilting my head, I part my lips as though it's second nature to let him in, let him taste me. I am your faithful servant, Angel. My eyes close and my body moves closer to him as I start to kiss him back tentatively at first. Tangling my hand in his hair, I sigh into his mouth as though it's coming from my toes. There are stars and I think I need air. But I'll be damned if I know why, because right now? Angel is kissing me, and that's all that counts. For now.
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Finally, when his hand tangles in my hair, I can’t stop the electricity that goes straight to my groin, straight through to my fingertips and toes. He wants this. I kiss him back, fiercely, greedily. Too strong. He’s going to push me away. Run away. Disappear.
But it’s Wes. I think I moan his name, but I’m still reeling from knowing that Wes is kissing me
I doubt I’ll ever stop tripping over those words.
That sigh that he lets loose is like a breath of life in my mouth, and I’m wondering if this is a new beginning. I hope it is. I can’t go back now. He tastes- He feels- There’s no words to describe it except for longing. I've wanted this since I can’t remember. Cordy was there when Wes wasn’t, and I can’t forget her, with Wes I never could. But we’re a family. Which is why I wish Wes and I could latch on tighter, get it right this time. Be more for each other. For Cordy. She would have wanted it that way.
“Waited.” I kiss him again between words. "Wanted," I say against his mouth. “So long.” I nip his lower lip lightly. “Too long.” It's not coherent, but I just want to keep kissing him, forget about everything else, and just be here with him. Let him rest. Let him feel safe.
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When I finally do move my mouth away, there really are stars dancing in front of my eyes. I’m still so tired, that this is starting to feel like a dream. And I’m afraid to wake up and find myself alone again. In an empty, cold office with nothing but books to keep me company. Not Angel’s arms around me, nor his words whispering promises of want and need to me.
And even though my mind and body are exhausted, I can feel it react to his words as much as his touch. A small whimper escapes me and I pull my head back to look at him, trying to get my eyes to focus through the haze. Blinking a few times doesn’t seem to help, but I do notice I’m nearly half in his lap. He makes a most wonderful pillow.
“Why did you wait?” I ask softly, my thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. So soft, so full, so very kissable. So very mine for this moment. God only knows when it’ll be over again and I’ll be alone once more.
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When we break apart his face is dizzy and his eyes glazed. Thoroughly tired, and well-kissed. A little smile creeps across my face as I try not to think of the other possible ways that I could get to see his face look like this. Imagination is not going to help get myself under control here.
His thumb reaches my lips and the soft, reverent contact pulls a groan from me, and I lick the tip of his finger with my tongue. He tastes like salt and ink and I want to taste more. See what other parts of him taste like. This is probably too far already. He's not ready for this. Fred just basically died, you idiot. He's probably just needs someone in that role right now. I should let him get away gracefully, not keep trying to get more from him, but I don't let go, not even a little.
It finally registers through my haze what he's said. "Why?" I nip at the end of his thumb, wanting more, but holding back a little. My thumbs are making lazy circles at his hips, trying to distract us both. Him from listening to what I say, and me from pulling him entirely into my lap. "Didn't think you wanted this. Cordy said, but I- It was never the right time and then... A bunch of stupid reasons, I guess. Mostly, I never trusted myself with you, Wes." I've been looking at his hand, his lips, any where else the whole time, but I raise my eyes to his finally. "Was I wrong?"
I feel so adrift these days. Lost in all the memories and things coming at me. I never know where to stand to get out of harm's way, and hearing myself sound so small and lost doesn't make the worry any less. It just brings up more ways that I'll be vulnerable if I let this keep going. I can't let myself do this with Wes. I'll only drag him down with me. And if someone finds out and uses him to get to me... Not gonna happen, but if it did I'd never forgive myself.
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Willingly I move when he pulls me entirely into his lap. Straddling him, which for some reason doesn’t feel as awkward as it should, I place my hand on his shoulder for balance. My jeans are suddenly to tight, but that’s not what matters. His answer is, as though it’s the most important thing. Pressing slightly forward, I tilt my head and blink when he finally speaks, looking anywhere but at me. So many opportunities lost, so many chances of never knowing. Because of what?
How can he think I never wanted this? Where *had* those eyes of him been in those early days. I damn near practically threw me at him until Cordy dragged me apart and had a few words about subtlety. And…something about flirting, I don’t thing I ever really grasped that concept. But I just thought he wasn’t interested, locked my own desire away and just focused on becoming his friend. At least I could still have that. Until I lost that as well. It hurt more then he’ll ever know. It may have even hurt more then loosing Fred.
I frowned at the sound of his voice, so small, vulnerable, un-Angel like. Bringing up both hands, I cupped his face and gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t matter now,” I whispered. He had been wrong. There’s nothing we can do to change that however, and I wont allow him to heap more guilt on his plate. Hesitantly, I leaned in, my eyes locked with his, searching for something before I brush my lips over those cool ones. It’s a slow, almost chaste kiss. But then my hand tangles in his hair and my hips push forward on their own violation.
“I’ve always trusted you with myself,” I mumbled, when we pull back because I need air. Damn air. I have, I’ve always trusted Angel. It was Angelus I didn’t trust with Connor. “I’ve always...” loved, “...cared for you.”
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