[Reviews - 58]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1936 times

- Text Size +




She felt her heart leap as her eyes met those of her one-time lover – as it always seemed to do – but at the same time, she couldn’t help remembering Spike’s recent words. Angel took a step forward and she looked up at him, her expression twisted with a mixture of panic and heartbreak. She had dreaded this moment for days and now it was finally here. Her voice got stuck in her throat as she froze helplessly, staring up at him with wide eyes. She felt a hand at her elbow and she forced her eyes away from the one vampire to the other.

“I’m just going to get some smokes,” Spike said quietly, nodding towards the shop, “You need me, just holler.”

She nodded jerkily and he released her, worried eyes holding hers, before he turned and made his way across the street. She watched him until he entered the shop and then forced her eyes back to Angel, a lump in her throat.

“This is it, isn’t it?” she whispered painfully, “You’re leaving.”

Any anger she had been harbouring over the last week or so disappeared in an instant with the knowledge that this might be the last time she saw him. His next words, then, surprised her.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I know I should but I… I just don’t know if I can, Buffy. Every time I think… I think of you and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you. I love you.”

She was silent, stunned by his unexpected words. But then, Spike’s words came back to her once more and she blurted out an answer.

“Do you?”

“Buffy?”

“Do you love me? I mean, really?”

“Of course I do. You know I do.”

She was silent, eyes turned downwards but he caught her chin, drawing her gaze to his.

“You do know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what I know anymore,” she whispered sadly, “But maybe… maybe we were never right for each other.”



She saw the shock in his expression but continued, needing to express these feelings, these doubts that had plagued her for so long.

“Maybe the people we fell in love with… well, maybe that’s not who we really are. Maybe it’s all just a… a myth,” she finished quietly.

“Buffy, you were my reason for going on.”

“I get that,” she answered quietly, “And you… you were special for me too. But I… maybe we just weren’t meant to be together.”

He was silent and she bit her lip to hold back her tears.

“You said I needed someone real. Maybe I do. But maybe you do too,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm, “And I… I do care about you, Angel. And I want you to be happy…”

She trailed off, meeting his dark, sad eyes with hers.

“But maybe I’m not the person you can have that with.”

He looked at her for a long time and then, finally, nodded.

“I know you’re right but I… I can’t walk away, Buffy.”

“Then I will,” she whispered.

She reached up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes tightly as his hands just rested on her waist. She pulled back and cupped his cheek in her hand.

“Goodbye, Angel,” she choked out, forcing herself away.

She took one long, last look at him and then moved away, forcing herself forward, every shaky step away from him increasing the pain in her chest.

Spike was waiting for her on the other side of the street and as soon as he realised she wasn’t stopping, he fell into step beside her.

“I have to keep- I can’t stop now,” she whispered.

She saw him glance back over his shoulder but she would not copy him… could not. She had to make this break with the past, this break with Angel. It was time.



She managed to hold herself together for the short walk back to her house but almost as soon as she got through the door, she faltered and was caught by her arms. Spike guided her silently through to the living room and made her sit down, perching on the table opposite her and taking her trembling hands in his. She forced her watery gaze to his, fighting against the tears now.

“It’s really over,” she whispered.

She had hoped he might distract her but she saw nothing but acute sympathy in his eyes and it broke what little restraint she had left: she burst into tears, hunched in on herself, even as he continued to hold her hands tightly in his, his thumbs rubbing the backs of her hands gently.

“Buffy?!”

Her mother had crept downstairs without her notice and now hovered at the living room door. She threw her mother a tearful look but then she sagged again, the pain ripping through her.

“I think we could all do with some cocoa,” Spike suggested quietly and she heard her mother disappear into the kitchen.

And somehow, she lost it altogether then. She sagged forward, head buried against her knees, sobbing. She felt the softest touch against her hair but it barely registered through her pain.



She felt the cushions dip beside her and then she was enveloped in a familiar embrace, breathing in the scent of smoke and Spike. He said nothing but held her tightly as she sagged against him, one hand clutching at his shirt as she cried into his shoulder.

Moments later, she felt a presence on her other side and a gentle hand reached out to brush her hair to one side.

“Shh, honey. It’s alright,” her mother murmured softly, one hand taking her free hand and holding it tightly.

Her tears did not cease for long minutes though and when they finally did, she felt drained. She forced herself to sit up, red eyes moving from the vampire on one side to her mother on the other. Her mother brushed a hand over her cheek, her eyes saddened.

“My beautiful girl.”

She sniffed, wiping her sore eyes.

“He’s really leaving, Mom.”

“Oh, honey.”

Her mother drew her into her embrace then and she hugged her back tightly. Her mother pressed a kiss to her head, stroking one hand over her back.

“It’s going to be okay, Buffy,” she whispered, “I promise you. It may not seem like it now… but you’re going to be okay. You’re going to move on and you’re going to find someone so much better for you. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

She sniffed pitifully, burying her head against her mother.

“I loved him.”

“I know, honey.”



It was only later that she noticed her instinctive use of the past tense. But it was also later that her actions became clear to her and she could not regret what she had done, despite the pain it had caused her. As she curled up in her bed, alone, she saw Angel’s face before her eyes, as he had been the first time she had met him… and she forced it aside, closing her eyes and praying for sleep.





You must login (register) to review.