disclaimer: Joss Whedon made the park, i'm just playing in it.
A/N: okay, so i'm starting a new story. maybe, anyway. if there seems to be interest i'll keep posting. just be forewarned that i'm already working on two other stories and tend to be slow and sporadic about updating (i'm soooorryyyyyy!). however, if i decide to go with this, i won't abandon it. so, read what i've got (just the prologue and first chap, i think), if you're interested in reading more let me know and i'll keep going.
Cheers,
SilverKit
Every Moment
Prologue
Warm. Warmth. Like sunshine.
You glow.
Sunshine? Sunlight. Heat. So hot. Just feel it.
Go. Get out of here!
So hot. Hot like sunlight. Like fire.
I love you.
Hands. Flame. Fire. Beautiful.
No you don't.
Burn; burning. Powerful. So hot.
Get out of here.
Glowing. Flames. Consuming. Burning up. Have to do this.
I love you.
No, you don't.
So hot. Burning. Burning. Alone.
I love you…
. . .
. . . . . .
. . .
Warm. Floating. Formless, bodiless. Timeless. Warm.
Is this death?
Sightless, soundless. Can feel it though; world's there, vast, encompassing, and growing. Expanding.
Stars. Planets. Galaxies. Universes. So much. Doesn't mean anything now.
I love you.
Doesn't mean anything.
I love you.
Doesn't. . . .
I love you.
Falling.
. . .
. . . . . .
. . .
Dark. Cold. What—?
Sounds. Wind. Coldness — felt it. Is this still death?
Voices. Muted, senseless. Familiar?
Pain. Searing, burning. No! No, it was over!
Screaming. No sound, no voice, only pain. Is this hell then?
A voice. Words. Familiar.
"Oh, honey! You have been royally fried."
Oh. Not hell then.