Misfortune
He moved through the gravestones without making a sound. After two hundred plus years, he'd learned to tread lightly. He knew he shouldn't be there but he couldn't help himself. His ears pricked up as sounds began to drift towards him.
"Buffy?" It was barely a whisper.
He moved towards the sounds only to find her pressed against another man, one he knew all too well. He wanted to look away as their bodies moved against each other but he couldn't. Something inside him wanted to scream, to fight but it would be in vain. She wasn't his anymore.