This one's an Angelus/Spike ficlet that I wrote for my friend Willa
Disclaimers: Don't own any of the characters just use them for my own evil purposes.
Setting: takes place around the 1890s when Angelus is as soulless as ever
Feedback: Yes please!
The title of the fic is in thanks to Kelly Clarkson's song of "Beautiful Disaster"
Beautiful Disaster
He continued to lay there resting on his side, transfixed at the play of shadows dancing languidly upon Will's slackened and sleep filled face. The colored shards in the lightly glazed window pane merely reflected the burning light of the candles and displayed an aurora of splendors to dance in its wake.
The boy was fast asleep, exhausted and abused from the long night's venturing and had little but made it to bed before he had fallen askew, welcoming sleep with common ease. From the ghostly smirk hanging on his lips, Angelus could tell that Will was more than possibly dreaming of their previous night spent in the company of jeweled and gilded nobilities who lived in comely residences and drank the most richest of wine. Though none could be more rich and precious than the blood they'd offered so freely once the dark veil had surrounded them in all its peaceful presence.
Nights like these, Angelus would simply stare in wonder at his strange paramour, wishing that be it for once, he could accompany him as he drifted off in rhythm to these mysterious dreams. When the siren's enchanting and deadly call echoed in his ears, Will always answered with a pleasant and practiced tune of his own.
Will's eyes would always hold clear once he awakened after sleep, yet his thoughts still busy with the shadowy splendors of his dreams. Angelus at times would find himself furious at seeing the well of emotions portrayed in the boys fierce blue orbs, hiding behind a carefully constructed wall. Each brick being sturdily inlayed with each crack of whip, and every soft caress. He often wondered at what he was more repulsed at more than anything; the fact that Will had withheld such emotions even well after death or that the most tender of these emotions were never unmasked to lay bare before him.
He had grown familiar with being looked upon to something akin to trust, but the most powerful of looks unveiled within his bearing presence was the infamous burning blue glacial stare, tinted with fine crimson droplets of blood. For blood was the one thing that they were bound by irreversibly, if be it by nothing else.
Angelus devoured the man laying next to him with his hazy brown orbs, feeling the yearning need to reach out and touch him, make certain of this haunting creature's tangibility.
He strokes the pale cheek lightly with his index finger, savoring the touch of his smooth complexion against his roughened skin. Mentally chuckling a the thought that this beauty could so gracefully tame his beast with an ease that even Darla hadn't mastered control over for nearly a century.
Will looked sensuous and alluring even in sleep, cocooned in the dark scarlets of the comforter and having the fortune to dream on a bed that was all of massy gold, and beautified with designs which well near made it priceless, since it was the work of Benvenuto.
Yet nothing was as priceless as the angelic occupant currently dozing in a sea of the most unlikeliest likeliest of dreams. Angelus was compelled to awaken him, to have those soft eyes look into his own, and for that sinful mouth to smile upon him with one of those smiles that would set asparkle Dru's mischievous eyes and make the starry night hum to a foreign melody.
So much compassion and life within the boy, all Angelus wanted was a simple taste of just a few of his pages, for fear that he'd poison the whole book if given the chance to read on.
He showed discomposure as he slackened on his back and closed his oddly burdened eyes, growing more solemn as seconds slithered by, finding no sanctity in the troubled recesses of his mind. Which more than often yelled at him incessantly to let the boy be, for he was a dangerous attachment, an unnecessary load. If he continued on lusting over Will like some love-sickened fool, it would inevitably lead to chaos, disaster.
A light shift of movement was felt next to him and Will had placed his arm across his waist, softly nuzzling into his shoulder before fading steadily away once more.
Angelus tilted his head up just a fraction to place soft kisses atop Will's forehead and unruly dirty blonde hair.
He never had had much care for etiquettes and wasn't about to let go of the one thing which made him feel something besides a demon. Something akin to a human.
They would have to make with all the hardships, he'd make sure that they'd be inseparable and forever bound as one.
His beautiful disaster and him.
Thanks for all the reviews for "Two Halves Apart", since now I know I have a general audience, it's easier to go about writing it.
This is just a little ditty before i actually post the next part of THA. Thanks again for reviewing guys. FYI, I'm writing the next portion in Spike's perspective ;)
Preety