Title: Moribund
Author: Kati (kati@thetruth.com)
Rating: eh... pg-13ish
Spoilers: A:tS, S2: Reunion.
Author's Notes: Writer's block is a bitch and a half.
Distribution: Just ask. I don't care.
-----
She traced the seam of his blood-stained shirt with her porcelain-white finger, silently studying his perfect face. He was beautiful, even in his state of moribund. His intent blue eyes stared forward in an empty determination. His soft round lips were cracked, fresh blood still dripping from the corner of his mouth.
She slowly lifted her finger from his shirt and lightly pressed the tip of her finger onto the wet blood, dabbing it then bringing it to her lips. His blood was rich. His blood was sweet. Sweet like sugar. In the bitterness of a new reality, he was ripened fruit.
She sighed peacefully. She stretched out along him, adoring him more and more as the earth-shattering silence passed. She would be there for him. After all, he was there for her.
He was there since she was resurrected. She forgot how painful it was to be human, to have a soul. When everything caught up from her previous state of undead, she felt a voidness echoing through her new-found soul. It hurt. And he pretended to care. She knew he was loving her in vain. Here she was, a beautiful petite blonde woman. How could he not love her? But it was all physical. He never knew. He never knew the real her. The real Darla.
He never loved her. He orchestrated her murder. He took away her salvation. He gave her salvation.
Never knew her. Never loved her. Never afraid of her.
He was never afraid.
And that what she loved about him. He was simple in his complexity.
Those other lawyers, they were stiff-necks. They didn't believe in a little thing called flexibility. She needed freedom, not to be locked up and used as a weapon. Well, at least not locked up.
That's why she killed them. With Drusilla. Those stiff-necked lawyers wanted a massacre. And boy oh boy did they get one. They massacred all of them. But Lindsey. Lindsey was special. He deserved a choice.
She snuggled against her lover's frame, draping her pale arm across his chest. She did not mind his blood saturating her skin. His once warm blood on her cold skin was sheer pleasure. Pleasure that sent shivers through her body. He was heaven in her dead arms. It was rare she felt as complete as she did, but she was alone.
Yet, in all actuality, she wasn't alone. She had a companion, even if he wasn't with her at that time. She was, however, alone for a hundred or so years before she met him. But now, she wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. He'd come to her by sunset tomorrow.
He had been dead hours.
She had been dead over four-hundred years.
.fini
Author: Kati (kati@thetruth.com)
Rating: eh... pg-13ish
Spoilers: A:tS, S2: Reunion.
Author's Notes: Writer's block is a bitch and a half.
Distribution: Just ask. I don't care.
-----
She traced the seam of his blood-stained shirt with her porcelain-white finger, silently studying his perfect face. He was beautiful, even in his state of moribund. His intent blue eyes stared forward in an empty determination. His soft round lips were cracked, fresh blood still dripping from the corner of his mouth.
She slowly lifted her finger from his shirt and lightly pressed the tip of her finger onto the wet blood, dabbing it then bringing it to her lips. His blood was rich. His blood was sweet. Sweet like sugar. In the bitterness of a new reality, he was ripened fruit.
She sighed peacefully. She stretched out along him, adoring him more and more as the earth-shattering silence passed. She would be there for him. After all, he was there for her.
He was there since she was resurrected. She forgot how painful it was to be human, to have a soul. When everything caught up from her previous state of undead, she felt a voidness echoing through her new-found soul. It hurt. And he pretended to care. She knew he was loving her in vain. Here she was, a beautiful petite blonde woman. How could he not love her? But it was all physical. He never knew. He never knew the real her. The real Darla.
He never loved her. He orchestrated her murder. He took away her salvation. He gave her salvation.
Never knew her. Never loved her. Never afraid of her.
He was never afraid.
And that what she loved about him. He was simple in his complexity.
Those other lawyers, they were stiff-necks. They didn't believe in a little thing called flexibility. She needed freedom, not to be locked up and used as a weapon. Well, at least not locked up.
That's why she killed them. With Drusilla. Those stiff-necked lawyers wanted a massacre. And boy oh boy did they get one. They massacred all of them. But Lindsey. Lindsey was special. He deserved a choice.
She snuggled against her lover's frame, draping her pale arm across his chest. She did not mind his blood saturating her skin. His once warm blood on her cold skin was sheer pleasure. Pleasure that sent shivers through her body. He was heaven in her dead arms. It was rare she felt as complete as she did, but she was alone.
Yet, in all actuality, she wasn't alone. She had a companion, even if he wasn't with her at that time. She was, however, alone for a hundred or so years before she met him. But now, she wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. He'd come to her by sunset tomorrow.
He had been dead hours.
She had been dead over four-hundred years.
.fini