You pray it all away but it continues to grow
People always say that Buffy is the slayer who feels too much, loves too much and it gets in the way of her duty. Faith knows the truth. Buffy hides. Buffy feels too little, shields herself from the pain and maybe that's life experience or maybe it's just the way she was built. For as much as Faith knows about Buffy she's sure she'll never have the answer to that particular question.
Faith feels too much. It's her downfall. It always has been. She shrugs, tries to let it roll right off her back but every word slices into her deeper than any knife to the gut could ever do. She takes it all so fucking personally she knows it's bound to destroy her one of these days. It's only a matter of time.
That's what happens when you jump without looking. When you love without thinking. There's no concentration with love, it's not like desire. She can relate to desire, to fucking- it's so closely related to slaying she thinks she must have been built for it. It's hard to find self-control when genetics and destiny are determined to gang up on you. Lena taught her a thousand lessons but never the most important one.
She loves Buffy. So much it nearly did destroy her. Fucking tears her apart in the middle of the night when she imagines pale hair and green eyes and soft tanned skin. One single scar flaming up in the darkness as she traces the confines of an invisible body in her mind. Buffy is pain and pain is something Faith can relate to. Every swift sharp sting on her flesh from Buffy's hand is another lovetap Faith can bring home with her. The purples and yellows seep under her skin, sink into her blood, scream with need. Faith knows that Buffy will never give into her and that makes the pain just a little more delicious. She can yell and kick and scream bloody murder and Buffy only turns the other cheek. Being ignored never felt so good.
Angel is a substitute for Buffy. She wants to feel badly about that but she knows that she is the vice to that versa. Neither one of them can have the golden girl and so they settle on eachother. She loves Angel, and she knows that deep down in his own way he loves her too. Love isn't the issue. It's the things that they can never have and so desperately want. Perfect happiness is a funny thing. Faith doesn't believe in happiness, she believes in sacrifice. You can have the things you want but you have to sacrifice who you are for them. That downlow tingle isn't just a pure reaction to his body, it's who she is. Screaming out from underneath her skin. Fight. Fight. Fight. She feels him so completely that when she feels his eyes on her in the dark she wonders if it would ever be possible to tear him out. To scratch off her skin raw and bloody until he's gone. Buffy never even made it this far, this deep. It's an invasion. Angel is the drug that Faith will never be able to quit.
Harry makes her happy. It's so simple and true that she wishes she could hold onto it. She's never believed in things like soulmates but sometimes Harry makes her change her mind. In another life, in another time she thinks that she and Harry would have been perfect for eachother. It's the beautiful lie she tells herself. No one has ever tried so hard, so completely to make her happy. Harry offers her the world and Faith wishes she knew how to gracefully accept it. She's never been fair to him, devours his love for breakfast and demands more. Always more. She's so full, so sick on it that she can't swallow it anymore. There's no give with Harry just take, take, take. The more she knows the more she rejects and she knows it makes her a hypocrite in the end. She wants something from Harry that she doesn't deserve. She wants him to lie to her.
Buffy and Angel had it all wrong. Love isn't perfect happiness. It's a strangled bloody mess that you just can't quit. No matter how hard it is you go back and beg for more.
Buffy is the obsession. Angel is the drug. And Harry is the lie she tells herself.
Faith feels too much. It's her downfall. It always has been. She shrugs, tries to let it roll right off her back but every word slices into her deeper than any knife to the gut could ever do. She takes it all so fucking personally she knows it's bound to destroy her one of these days. It's only a matter of time.
That's what happens when you jump without looking. When you love without thinking. There's no concentration with love, it's not like desire. She can relate to desire, to fucking- it's so closely related to slaying she thinks she must have been built for it. It's hard to find self-control when genetics and destiny are determined to gang up on you. Lena taught her a thousand lessons but never the most important one.
She loves Buffy. So much it nearly did destroy her. Fucking tears her apart in the middle of the night when she imagines pale hair and green eyes and soft tanned skin. One single scar flaming up in the darkness as she traces the confines of an invisible body in her mind. Buffy is pain and pain is something Faith can relate to. Every swift sharp sting on her flesh from Buffy's hand is another lovetap Faith can bring home with her. The purples and yellows seep under her skin, sink into her blood, scream with need. Faith knows that Buffy will never give into her and that makes the pain just a little more delicious. She can yell and kick and scream bloody murder and Buffy only turns the other cheek. Being ignored never felt so good.
Angel is a substitute for Buffy. She wants to feel badly about that but she knows that she is the vice to that versa. Neither one of them can have the golden girl and so they settle on eachother. She loves Angel, and she knows that deep down in his own way he loves her too. Love isn't the issue. It's the things that they can never have and so desperately want. Perfect happiness is a funny thing. Faith doesn't believe in happiness, she believes in sacrifice. You can have the things you want but you have to sacrifice who you are for them. That downlow tingle isn't just a pure reaction to his body, it's who she is. Screaming out from underneath her skin. Fight. Fight. Fight. She feels him so completely that when she feels his eyes on her in the dark she wonders if it would ever be possible to tear him out. To scratch off her skin raw and bloody until he's gone. Buffy never even made it this far, this deep. It's an invasion. Angel is the drug that Faith will never be able to quit.
Harry makes her happy. It's so simple and true that she wishes she could hold onto it. She's never believed in things like soulmates but sometimes Harry makes her change her mind. In another life, in another time she thinks that she and Harry would have been perfect for eachother. It's the beautiful lie she tells herself. No one has ever tried so hard, so completely to make her happy. Harry offers her the world and Faith wishes she knew how to gracefully accept it. She's never been fair to him, devours his love for breakfast and demands more. Always more. She's so full, so sick on it that she can't swallow it anymore. There's no give with Harry just take, take, take. The more she knows the more she rejects and she knows it makes her a hypocrite in the end. She wants something from Harry that she doesn't deserve. She wants him to lie to her.
Buffy and Angel had it all wrong. Love isn't perfect happiness. It's a strangled bloody mess that you just can't quit. No matter how hard it is you go back and beg for more.
Buffy is the obsession. Angel is the drug. And Harry is the lie she tells herself.