He had only meant to stay a moment.

He had never intended to come inside but here he was standing at the
foot of her bed. Their last words to one another rattling in his
brain...

" ..and you know what's new " she had said "I trust him."
And his curt response.
" Well I am glad that you could move on. I can't."

She'd moved on. And he was trapped where he was from the first
moment he'd seen her- loving her from a distance. His all-too-human undead heart ached physically for a moment, as he looked down on
her sleeping face.

What do Slayers dream of? He wondered. She moved, murmuring
childlike, as she burrowed deeper under the bedclothes. Even
in sleep she probably sensed the nearness of a vampire, and soon
she would wake. His time was limited. This moment was precious.

" I can't move on, Buffy." he whispered and was gone. His whispered
words however, hung in the air, like incense for the Slayer who
murmured his name in her sleep.