TITLE: I can still remember how he smelled.
AUTHOR: Rilja (golf_clap@yahoo.com) PAIRING: Xander/Spike RATING: PG-13 DISTRIBUTION: Archives are ok, just tell me were it went so I can go look at it. Others please ask first. DISCLAIMER: Spike, Xander and all things Sunnydale belongs to Joss Whedon. FEEDBACK: Yes! Please tell me if I did good, or bad. SPOILERS: No. SUMMARY: Spike thinks about love lost. WARNING: Mentions character deaths. Yes, plural, but nothing graphic. NOTE: I read 'In The End' by Adam and got inspired. This is what happened.
I can still remember how he smelled, like apples. Like that fruit shampoo Anya liked to use. I guess he still had some left from before she took off. How strange is it that of all the things I could remember, I remember that he used to smell like apples. I look up at the sky that is slowly turning crimson with dawn.
Not much longer now.
It was the little things that made me love him. The way he always had a smile and a bad joke to lighten the mood when the apocalypse came knocking. The way he always looked after the girls, even when they didn't know. The way he took charge and did what had to be done when the others were struck numb with grief after losing yet another member of the group. But mostly it was the way he was with me when we were alone, when it was just the two of us. Then he would drop his facade of jokes and look at me with those huge expressive eyes and smile that small happy smile that was reserved for me and me alone.
It was those eyes that had me falling for him in the first place. The first time they looked at me without any trace of the hatred that he proclaimed to have against all vampires, and I had been lost. Then, when those eyes began to show respect and friendship I was happier than I had been in a very long time. I never really expected to ever be able to se love shining out from those dark pools. Guess I didn't know him as well as I thought.
The first time we kissed. The first time we made love. The first time we said 'I love you'. Every time those eyes would look at me, really look at me, seeing all of me and still shine with love. After all the things I had done in life he could still love all of me.
And he smelled like apples.
I take one last drag on my cigarette and look up at my love. His final resting-place is filled with flowers, I can't even make out his name on the headstone. It doesn't matter; I can see the part that's important; 'Beloved'. The first rays of the morning sun peaks over the horizon as I stretch myself out on top of my love. I lay still, tears flowing freely down the sides of my face to sink into the earth beneath.
Not much longer now.
I close my eyes as the burning starts. It doesn't hurt that much. Losing my love hurt more than anything ever could. I feel the world drifting away, darkness filling its place. I think about my love, and I smile.
The end.
AUTHOR: Rilja (golf_clap@yahoo.com) PAIRING: Xander/Spike RATING: PG-13 DISTRIBUTION: Archives are ok, just tell me were it went so I can go look at it. Others please ask first. DISCLAIMER: Spike, Xander and all things Sunnydale belongs to Joss Whedon. FEEDBACK: Yes! Please tell me if I did good, or bad. SPOILERS: No. SUMMARY: Spike thinks about love lost. WARNING: Mentions character deaths. Yes, plural, but nothing graphic. NOTE: I read 'In The End' by Adam and got inspired. This is what happened.
I can still remember how he smelled, like apples. Like that fruit shampoo Anya liked to use. I guess he still had some left from before she took off. How strange is it that of all the things I could remember, I remember that he used to smell like apples. I look up at the sky that is slowly turning crimson with dawn.
Not much longer now.
It was the little things that made me love him. The way he always had a smile and a bad joke to lighten the mood when the apocalypse came knocking. The way he always looked after the girls, even when they didn't know. The way he took charge and did what had to be done when the others were struck numb with grief after losing yet another member of the group. But mostly it was the way he was with me when we were alone, when it was just the two of us. Then he would drop his facade of jokes and look at me with those huge expressive eyes and smile that small happy smile that was reserved for me and me alone.
It was those eyes that had me falling for him in the first place. The first time they looked at me without any trace of the hatred that he proclaimed to have against all vampires, and I had been lost. Then, when those eyes began to show respect and friendship I was happier than I had been in a very long time. I never really expected to ever be able to se love shining out from those dark pools. Guess I didn't know him as well as I thought.
The first time we kissed. The first time we made love. The first time we said 'I love you'. Every time those eyes would look at me, really look at me, seeing all of me and still shine with love. After all the things I had done in life he could still love all of me.
And he smelled like apples.
I take one last drag on my cigarette and look up at my love. His final resting-place is filled with flowers, I can't even make out his name on the headstone. It doesn't matter; I can see the part that's important; 'Beloved'. The first rays of the morning sun peaks over the horizon as I stretch myself out on top of my love. I lay still, tears flowing freely down the sides of my face to sink into the earth beneath.
Not much longer now.
I close my eyes as the burning starts. It doesn't hurt that much. Losing my love hurt more than anything ever could. I feel the world drifting away, darkness filling its place. I think about my love, and I smile.
The end.