IMPROV #41
Dates: April 26 - May 10
Words: steel, false, letter, shiver
Rating:All audiences, no naughty goodness here, just some hopefully yummy angst.
Pairing: Only Buffy
Disclaimer: I own none of this. It is all owned by others.
Rachel(Raela), please help me with my writing. Drop me a line.
The air was dry and cold; it had bite, and contributed to Buffy's already dry skin, or husk. She walked along in the twilight waiting for the tedious walk to finish before she had time to explore all the worries in the back of her head.
She was going to dye her hair and she feared this more than the touch of steel, her emotions, or the dark of the night.
Sure her hair got a little help to reach that california- beach- party- girl blonde state. In reality it was more of a dirty blonde. This though was a drastic change. It was unabashedly false and different.
Different the operative word here. Every since she had come back people had wanted her to be the same Buffy, bright, cheery, and eager to go out at the good fight. Spike, who wasn't exactly a person, had wanted her to go dark side of the force. She wanted just live again, be again.
She could she realized. Humans were very adaptable. She still longed for the serenity and security of heaven; still closed her eyes and tried to remember and pretend she is still there before going to sleep. It didn't help that when she got back she immediately had to slay, provide and take care of Dawn, without the help of Giles or her friends. Giles who took off, thought she was using him as a crutch and wanted to go off on a life of his own, whatever. He drooped her a line occasionally, his letters desperate for confirmation that his choice was right; she didn't have time for coddling his guilty conscience. Her friends had their own problems. Her experiences shaped and changed her, but she was still Buffy who loved pink nailpolish and hated movies with clowns in it. Her experiences have just opened her up to a new level of life, a new awareness.
So, she wasn't keeping her hair the same perky, sunkissed, blonde. The cut was a start, but it didn't change much, it was a lot like the one she had during junior year. It was another reminder of the old Buffy. Maybe if she changed her hair it would seem less of a reminder of what had passed. She wasn't dying her hair Drusilla-evil- black, or Willow- red, Tara- fawn, Dawn- chestnut, Xander's dark Brown, Giles- silver, or Anya's sandy hair. She was going to dye her hair deep dark red. A red that didn't apologize for anything. It was strong it stood out, it said hear me roar, but was dark enough so it wouldn't stand out when she had to make with the stalking during patrol.
A shiver ran down her spine. This reminded her of nights spent on patrol with her other half. Then nights incomplete when he left her. When, she came back and she knew subconsciously he had realized what happened and so why she was broken, they had the soulmate connection. Not calling him on it, letting him go back to his brittle happy perfect happy life, and had gone home relieved she didn't have to deal with anything more, no caring, delicate feelings that would always break around them, messy ache and desire, and none of his guilt or denials. Also she remembered with a sudden punch in the gut, that night when silently tears crawled down her face, she also realized she would have loved all that if he was by her side.
This was it, a step toward empowerment. If it was horrible, Buffy reminded herself for the thousandth time, it would grow out or there was always home hair dye, she didn't think she could pay for another salon trip. There no more annoying inner voice o doubt, that went off now until after this. Buffy crossed over the threshold of the salon.