Author's Note: So it has been several years since I have written any form of fanfiction and the first time I have ever written Buffy fanfiction. And to be honest I am not sure why I did because I am not that huge into Buffy anymore, but the idea came to me and the story wrote itself. I know the contents of this story are going to get it flamed, I know that, because it is so not something this story's main character would ever do past the end of season four into season five. All I can ask is that you give it a chance.
Disclaimer: Really? You know I don't own Buffy, Joss Whedon knows, I know, and the American people know that I don't.
Feeding the Beast.
Each time she came to him she fed the beast inside, a dangerous game to play for one such as her. But she had stopped caring and who was he to deny her request? Sure, it was not what he originally wanted from her, but if she wanted to give he would gladly take; it was within his better nature after all. He certainly was not go to try to talk her out of it.
And she used to know better.
Now, however, she did not seem to care and if she did not care neither did he. She cared about so few things anymore and it made her careless. So very careless.
She used to know better, so much better.
Where she had once been mildly careful with how she spoke to him, how close she allowed herself to get to him, now all that was gone. And she said such cruel, vile things, to him. And where he once just loved her, now he just hated that he loved her, need her like he needed blood to live. Her words were certainly not helping matter any. Only made that beast inside him harder to ignore and still she kept feeding the beast.
Didn't she know better?
Or perhaps she did not care about that little tidbit anymore either; how utterly foolish of her. Or maybe it was because she thought him too weak to actually go through with his secret desires, assumed he loved her too much to ignore them. He was love's bitch after all and a slave to his emotions even in death.
Oh how thin the line she walked with him was.
So when, yet again, she came to him, seeking the cold comfort he had to offer her. Seeking the way he managed to make her feel so alive even when she felt so cold. He could no longer hold back the beast stirring inside. Lord help, him he did try, but she made it so hard to ignore!
She knew better!
As she took and took, never giving as she always did, she looked down at him with green eyes. Those same green eyes that had once been so vibrant and full of life, now looked upon him with a mixture of passion and disgust. But most importantly they looked upon him with hate and the beast inside him broke free from its tightly bound cage.
Didn't her mother ever teach her that it was not good to feed a wolf?
Throwing her body so carelessly beneath him, fully lost to the beast with him, fangs found the hollow of her throat. This was what she got for always letting her guard down when with him these days. This was what she got for thinking so little of him. This what she got for thinking she could constantly get away with breaking him down so completely, both with her fists and without.
She should have known better; too late now.
Greedily he fed the beast, after so many months of wanting to and fighting it off; he was killing her. He hated and loved himself in that moment. Wanted to scream, to cry, to laugh, anything he could possibly think of that would perfectly depict the haze of emotions currently dancing through his skull. And finally when he allowed himself to pull away from her, gaze down upon her now cold body; he knew the truth.
She was not the one who didn't know better; it was never her...
It was him.