Disclaimer: Don't own them know them or wish them any harm. All fiction yadda yadda yadda.
THOUGHTS
It's a little after midnight. A silvery crescent moon hangs in the sky, illuminating the town in an ethereal light. It's funny, I never seem to have poetic thoughts like that anymore, I guess you don't when there's nothing to be poetical about.
I can sense everything. The tangible scent of human blood which I know I should be tracking. Hurried footsteps in an alleyway four blocks away. A cat fight half a mile down the street. But sometimes the things you feel most acutely, you know-the ones that really hurt, aren't always that near by.
You know that you torture every waking minute of this miserable existence I call my life, Buffy.
Wherever you are you'll always prey on my thoughts. When centuries have passed and all who knew you are dead and gone, I'll remember.
It shouldn't have happened. Wouldn't have happened, if only i hadn't pushed you away, if I hadn't left Sunnydale. God knows I should have been there to protect you, I would have given my life if only it would have saved yours. But we both knew your fate. We both knew that one day this would happen and you would be gone.
I sigh, a whisper of noise that sounds so loud in the endless chasm of silence that has become my mind. Silence. It's something I'm steadily becoming fond of, but it can become deafening , Buffy. I long to hear your voice, just one word would be sweeter to my ears than the most beautiful piece of music. Your beautiful face better than any oil painting.
Do you think about me where you are? I think about you all the time. Buffy I miss you all the time. But then, I've always missed you. Even when we were together I missed you. You never really let me in, never let me know what was going on inside.
Footsteps close behind me. I swing around, catching the vampire in between his ribs and ram the stake home into his heart. He doesn't scream, just explodes into a thousand particles of dust.
"That was for you Buffy," I whisper.
I can smell the dawn. I want to stay. It would be so easy just to wait for the sun to rise and have my ashes scatter here, so close to you. But I know have to keep fighting, for your memory and for all the people who still need saving. Although I long for this torment to end I know it can't and I know it won't. Crouching down, I place a single white rose on the grave that has become your home. Goodnight my angel and sweet dreams.