Requiem: Silent Reveries
By: Sarah
Disclaimer: Not mine. I figured that was pretty obvious to you people by now.
Author’s Notes: I’ve been tossing around an idea of doing an interlude to Spellbound. No, this is not a sequel, or will it explain how they eventually get together. It’s merely a small ficlet about Buffy and her thoughts about Angel.
I also want to clarify that this takes place after the second night Buffy and Angel share together, and not the original night in question.
Distribution: If you host my fics regularly, feel free. If you don’t, just ask and most likely you shall receive.
Summary: Buffy reflects on her lingering feelings to Angel. Interlude to Spellbound.
Pairings: B/A, because the interlude is just about them.
Rating: R, because I hate PG-13 ratings. I feel I have to be too censored with anything less than an R when I’m writing dark, romantic fictions.
Credit: Lyrics belong to The Get Up Kids. The song was my inspiration for the fic, so I found it only fitting to have it in there.
Dedication: For Bre, cuz missing her has made me want to write. So, feel free to send all good thoughts to her!
I go on forever
Older burns are overturned
Tears infiltrated her eyelashes, softly tracing the contours of her cheeks. Wiping them away with her soft, shivering hands, Buffy Summers unlocked the door to her apartment.
Closing the door silently, she sighed against the doorframe, absorbing the now ruined mascara on her golden cheeks.
My life for worse or better
I'm just craving for a cure
Why was it that thinking about him, about their non relationship, made her weep? They weren’t together, never together; yet she felt this desire to cry over him, to mourn the loss of what they could have had, should have had.
Like a man possessed
A requiem
We're singing
He wasn’t her absolution, nor was he that pandemonium of affliction she once sought out. One body, one soul, one life couldn’t have this much influence on her. She was alone, lost.
Hide the misdemeanors
Never lead an open life
My hands were never cleaner
Not a trace for you to find
She needed no one, especially a man whom she slept with, like a used whore. The pleasure they’d shared that night was nirvana, utopia at it’s utmost sincerity.
Like a man possessed
A requiem
We're singing
She had fallen in love that night; in love with a man she’d only known for a few mere hours before their coupling. He was darkness to her light; a candle to her flame.
A flame that ceased to burn out.
Say it, does it show?
Is this test in any other time?
Was it pride that stood in the way of her insatiable need? Bitterness? Or was it the feeling of completion, of knowing that there wasn’t anything else that mattered more in the moment.
I know, but I don't
I'm blind in every other eye
He was a stubborn jackass, yet…she felt some sort of pull towards him. When they consummated that summer night, something deep within her surfaced to the core.
Lust.
Desire.
Need.
Cold hands, colder smoke
We sleep anywhere we lie
Pulling away from her thoughts, Buffy wiped the tears away. She struck the last blow, the final trigger. She’d told him that she didn’t want to see him, date him. She wasn’t his anything; most importantly, she wasn’t his soulmate.
You're lying if you don't
I'll try, I'll try
All those which he silently insisted her to be.
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Instead, she was lost, confused. She’d been down this path before with another, and it was one road she did not care to revisit.
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Overwrought, her golden locks sank headfirst into the leather sofa. She needed to get him off her mind and completely out of her life. Distracted by the mere thoughts of his chocolate spiked hair, his musky scent, she fell into a dark oblivion.
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Buffy Summers was a fool. A fool who once had ice in her veins. All that changed the night she met her love in a dark, seductive club.
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Like a man possessed
A requiem
Now only one thing defined her status in the love department. She was now the one thing she never claimed, or desired to be.
Like a man possessed
Possessed
She was, after all, a fool for love.
-Fin