Author's note: Yes, sad, sad. I rewatched Tara's death scene to write this. It's so sad!
Hear breath was fire against my icy neck. Her hands asked for no permission as they, like vines, twisted around me. Her hair fell in waves upon her smooth, tan shoulders. She was wearing a long, white skirt. It billowed around her slender legs with every movement. I looked in her eyes. They shone bright, the warm brown dancing around, twinkling energetically. The plump lips parted, revealing even, white teeth. She smiled. Her rosy cheeks moved sideways, allowing the smile to grow. She took my thin and shaking hands into her calm and warm ones. We stood for what seemed like hours. In reality, it was only minutes, maybe even seconds. She holds me tight, I hold her tighter. It's as if she senses my worry, as if she knows that I think she'll disappear.
"I'm here," she whispers. "Willow, baby, I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
I nod.
Tara's words of reassurance did nothing to quell my fear, but I knew that she was there. Tara looked up from our joined hands. Her hair covered half of her face. She smiled coyly at me from behind the curtain of hair. I stared at her with my mouth slightly open.
"Willow," she said. "I think I'm under your spell again."
The words may have looked like a compliment, but they came across as an accusation, and I drew back, horrified.
"No!" I cried. "I haven't been doing magic, I swear! The coven Giles took me to, they helped me take control of my powers. Tara, please. I didn't do any magic, at all!"
She looked me strait in the face. Her eyes were wide and filled with doubt.
"Willow," she said with a frown. "How can I know you're telling the truth? How can I be sure that you're not lying to me again?"
"Tara, baby, please believe me," I pleaded. "I didn't do anything."
Warm tears were running down my cheeks. They left wet tracks on my red face.
"I want to believe you," said Tara. "I want to believe you, so bad. I love you."
"Really?" I asked, glowing with excitement.
Tara's sad smile faltered, then it disappeared altogether.
"But I don't think I can trust you," she said, letting go of my hands and watching them fall at my side. She turned away from me and started walking.
"Tara!" I cried after her.
She turned to face me.
"Please. Give me a chance," I choke out. "Stay. We can work through it."
I saw her eyes get softer, her shoulders relax.
"I want to," she said bluntly, channeling her inner Anya. "Do you really think we can do it?" she said, timid once again.
I gave a wide smile.
"I don't know that we can," I replied, in all honesty. "But we sure as hell can try."
Tara moved closer to me. She moved her hair behind her ears and looked at me happily.
"Tara," I breathed.
Her lips moved closer to my face. I grabbed her waist and pulled her toward me. I could feel her breath against my lips.
"Willow," she whimpered.
I opened my eyes.
"Your shirt," she said.
I looked down at my shirt. It was covered in splotches of red. I looked at Tara. There was a hole a few inches above her left breast. Blood dripped out of it.
"No!" I cried. "Tara!"
She looked at me s if I'd betrayed her. Her lips moved in an endless pattern of, "Why? Why? Why?"
"Why?" she asked, reaching her hands toward me.
Her hands moved closer to me, in a pleading gesture. I reached to grab them, but the fingers turned to dust.
"Tara?" I asked.
Her hands were turning to dust as well. Her body followed. It happened quickly, but to me, it was in slow motion. The last thing I saw was Tara's face, her mouth still mouthing, "Why? Why? Why?"
"Tara!" screamed Willow, sitting up in bed.
I heard footsteps.
"No, D-D-Dawnie, i-i-it's alright. I'll let myself out!" cried Tara.
"OK," I heard Dawn shout. "Tara!"
"Yes?" she replied.
"Your coat," I heard. "It's in the kitchen!"
"I'll get it," the footsteps were coming closer. "Thanks! Bye!"
"Bye!"
I heard the steps groan and the door slam. It must have been Dawn running to her room.
Tara. She was coming to the kitchen. Got to get out of here, got to get out of here...
I mumbled to my brain to shut up.
Someone bumped into me. My surprise sent me to the ground. Whoever bumped into me bent down, trying to help.
"W-Willow, I-I'm s-s-sorry," stuttered Tara. "I-I-I d-didn't know y-you were he-here."
I stood by myself, ignoring the helping hand. She stood back, feeling dejected.
"Tara, I'm sorry," I said.
"N-N-No, it's OK," she said. Then, as if to ease the tension, "The candles, the-the ones upstairs, they-they're really... beautiful."
I burst into tears. I don't know why, but I did. I started to back away from Tara. My back touched the cabinets. I sunk down to the floor and started sobbing. My hands found each other under my knees. I let my face fall onto my knees and my body started shaking.
"Willow," asked Tara. "Willow, b- what's wrong?"
"Candles," I managed ot say before another wave of tears.
"Candles?" asked Tara, perplexed. "Candles," she repeated, and something passed over her face. "Willow, l-l-let's go upstairs."
"No!" I growled. Then, realizing my mistake, whispered, "Sorry."
"No, i-i-it's OK," she reassured me.
She took my hand and helped me get up.
"Come on," she said.
She tightened her grip on one of my hands and her other hand snaked around to support my back. She led me to the living room couch.
"I'll be right right back," she said. "I-I promise."
She went upstairs, and my body racked with silent sobs.
She returned five minutes later.
"Willow,"She said, shaking me awake (I wondered when I fell asleep). "I-It's OK to go upstairs."
"OK," I said.
She led me upstairs, rubbing my back when I stiffened up.
"It's OK," she said. The-there's nothing to be afraid of."
She opened the door to our- my room. We sat on the bed.
"Willow," she said seriously, looking me in the eye. "Why were you crying?"
The half-smile left my face.
"Candles," I said. "They're used for magic."
Tara just stared at me.
"I'm off magic," I said. "Haven't used it since the car accident."
"Willow," she breathed.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she said, leaning toward me, and capturing my lips in her's.
The kiss ended and I leaned towards her, "I'm sorry, too."
We fell onto the bed.
"Tara," mumbled Willow, and turned on her side wanting to continue the dream.
"I'll be right back," said Willow, kissing my lips, "I promise."
CRACK!
The bullet.
"Your shirt."
THUMP!
She fell to the floor.
"Tara!"
Author's note: I think I might have used "OK" way too many times. Oh, well. Feedback?