Ok. I have no idea where this story comes from. I know it's weird but please review for more.
She didn't even want to look at him. She already knew what her eyes, aching for sleep, would find. He would be sad, brown eyes angry and broken at the same time. Through her drug induced haze, she couldn't understand. He was being weak, he was showing emotion. When did emotion come into this? Buffy didn't like it at all.
"You know what? I don't care if you don't like it. I don't care if you don't want to talk about this-"
"I don't-"
"Well, we are." His voice is calm. Hers was high pitched, a child's wail. That's what she was. A child. She was still a teenager, for God's sake. What did he expect?
"I'm tired." She complains. She thinks he'll show some pity. His face doesn't change, still blank. Bastard.
"When we've talked, you can sleep."
"I'm tired!"
"I don't care! You don't seem to care about me any more, why should I care either?"
He wants her to say something, she could tell, contradict him. "Oh Angel, I do love you, I do care, my lovely little vampire buddy."
He can just carry on wanting.
"So. Come on, talk to me. " Silence. "Buffy. Talk to me."
Fists curled in her lap. Surly expression. Definitely nothing more than a child.
He snaps. In a second. He's over by the chair she sits on, pulling her up, over to the light and forcing up the sleeves of her shirt. He's rough. She doesn't stop him.
"Tell me what these are Buffy!" He points to the tell-tale marks on her arms.
She glares at him.
"You've been around for a while. Surely you can tell by now when somebody's injecting." She tugs away fiercely. She's still just as strong as him. Stronger.
She can't stop the words tumbling out of her mouth.
"But I guess you can't smell it right? The heroin, I mean. You probably don't notice right? I mean, you just smell the blood." She moves closer. Angel glares at her. She knows how to get him angry and intends on using her experience to her advantage.
"I bet you could smell Miss Calender's blood too, huh? I bet it was pumping. I bet it was hot." She watches. He's furious. He'll break soon, one way or another.
"I liked Miss Calender. With Giles, anyway. They were good together." She moves even closer. "Is that why you wanted to kill him too? Complete the set?"
"I'm not going to touch you, Buffy."He growls. She smiles. She can see how close he is. She wants him to snap.
"Come on. You really expect me to believe you didn't have some fun with her body when you killed her?"
He finally breaks. In a second, she's against the wall, his arms pinning her in place. His hands bruise her forearms. She acknowledges the pain with satisfaction. Angel's face is demonic, ridged, fully vamped. He's growling at her.
She tilts her head, exposing her neck.
"Do it!" She urges him. He growls.
A minute passes. She looks into his yellow eyes, ignores the pain she finds, silently begging.
Before she knows what has happened, he releases her. She falls to the floor as he almost falls in his hurry to get to the window and escape.
She bites her lip. Tears prick her eyes. Climbing to her feet, she rubs her bruised arms.
He'll come back. He always does.