+Make Believe Heroes+
Summary: Basically, a short, angsty fiction. It deals with Buffy's feelings after one of her numerous love sessions with Spike, during the short period of time when she lies there with him after a night of sex, wallowing in her self-hate and misery. Review, merci beaucoup (it's Francias, darlings). Oh yeah, this whole story is from Buffy's POV. And I thought I rambled!
* means conversation flashbacks
Disclaimer: So, Joss's lawyers call me up today, right? And their all, 'oh, you don't own anything, and if you dig through our clients garbage one more time, or snap pictures of him naked, or even tell his wife to leave the country immediately again, he's putting a restraining order on you, bitch. Got it, you psycho stalker?' Well, what's that all about?
Feedback: Please, please, please, and one more please. I love it, I need it, I don't deserve it, but it's good for my mental health. Thanks a lot, peeps. You are all da bomb!
On with the crazy babble!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm tired of unhappy ever after. I'm tired of make believe heroes. I'm tired of waking up here. I'm tired of loving you."
~*~*~*
I love him so much that I hate him.
It physically hurts to watch him, to look at that beautiful face and know that he's all I can never have. Those smooth contours, that hard body, that sweet heart. It was all meant for someone else, someone else who can stand him and not wish that he would leave, and make everything black and white again. I can feel the sour bile rise in my throat every time he smiles at me, or gazes at me with those bright blue eyes. It rises and rises when he screws me, when I love he feeling of him being inside. But, I imagine it to be there, I think.
*
"I love you, kitten."
"Well, I don't."
*
How can a person know so much, but feel so little? How can I face myself, and the thing that I've become, and still call myself a warrior of the good side? I can't. And it's all his fault. I blame it on him, because he's the one that made that huge fissure in my heart. He's the one that I love unconditionally, yet made me too ashamed to admit it. He's the one that I would die for, and do die for, every night in my vivid dreams.
It makes me sick.
*
"Love isn't brains people, it's blood."
*
His hair is pure white, gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the tiny window, almost always covered except for now. He sleeps, while I cry, oblivious to my eternal torment and heartbreak. How could he know that I will always love him, yet that I can never be with him? He doesn't know. He can't. He thinks that I don't love him because he's soulless, but I don't love him because I'm a liar. My hearts bursts with him, sings with his voice, but deep inside that black void swallows up everything else, and I'm left empty and hurting again.
I'm more twisted then he is.
*
"You're a monster, Spike. You kill and cause pain. Nothing more."
"But you're the one who sleeps with it."
*
Why does life hurt so much? Why can't I just be normal, with normal friends and a normal life and a normal lover that I'm not ashamed to be with? He doesn't deserve me. He never did. Big Bad or not, he knows what's true and he knows that I lie. But I'm adamant, and I'm sure he knows that he'll never have me like I have him. I'll never be his, no more then he should be mine. With us, there will be no good times. Our whole relationship is based on pain, violence, and being enemies.
He's still me enemy, even now. Lovers are enemies.
*
"I hate you, Spike."
"And I'm all you've got."
*
Those stories lie. The fairy tales that every child dreams of. I used to read of white horses and brave princes, but it was all lies. All made up. There is no horses or princes, and for me, there will be no happy ever after ending. I'm destined to die alone and heartbroken, fearful and afraid, knowing that I once touched Heaven and had to let it go. Does it say that in fairy tales? Do those jokes talk of demons in the night and pain? Eternal torment and salty tears that never end? Of course not. They also don't mention of heroes that don't exist, or despair so deep that you're swallowed up by the inky blackness.
But maybe fairy tales keep us from going insane with the darkness that would consume us.
*
"I can't do this anymore, pet."
"Then don't."
*
If everyone knew what I have to face, if they really knew of true destinies and prophecies, then they would know that life isn't perfect. They would know of slain demons and mangled hearts, and the palpable sadness that follows me wherever I go. I just want to die, to stop this throb of emotions, to be rid of this choking blindness. I'm tired of having to live in this harsh world, tired of lying, tired of loving him. Love hurts too much, and it's slowly killing me inside. It's eating my insides, and my guts are spewing on the floor.
And still I can't leave him.
*
"If I left would you even care, kitten?"
"Never."
*
So maybe this is my punishment, the torment I have to face. Touching him, yet never really feeling. Loving him, but never really having. And let me say, the gods chose well. He is the bane of my existence, yet also the light in my dreary world. It's a contradiction, but it's the utter truth. I can't live with him, and I can't live without him. It's true when they say there's a fine line between love and hate. I'm toeing the line, occasionally jumping back and forth.
I feel both at the same time. I love him, and I still hate him.
*
"Why do you hurt me, Spike?"
"I hurt you because I love you."
*
I don't have the strength to say no, yet I blame my weakness on him. I want to tell him that I'm sorry for being such a messed up fool, but I think he already can see the conflict in my sad eyes. He knows that I crave him, that I need him every single minute of every day, but that I also would stake him if he ever did anything bad to those I care about. Maybe that's why he hates me too. Maybe that's why that flicker of disgust and anger flashes through his deep eyes every time he looks at me. He wishes that he didn't love me either, but things like that are inevitable, and unchangeable. It just happens, even when you pray that the misfortune doesn't fall upon you.
Sleeping with the Enemy; more true then I can ever say.
*
"I hate you, Spike."
"And I'm all you've got."
*
I didn't notice that I was crying until the first hot tears drips down my cheek and off my chin, splashing onto the cold cement below. After that they begin to stream down, cascading in salty rivulets. I hope that he doesn't wake up now. I hate it when he sees me cry. He becomes sympathetic and gentle, and I can't hate him anymore. He just lets me sob, and just wraps those strong arms around me, and I feel that things will get better. I feel that everything will work itself out, that all my problems will be fixed.
That I could be with him forever, without consequences.
*
"Why, Slayer?"
"Because."
*
I trace a light fingertip down the sharp contrast of his pale cheekbone, down the side of his soft face, into the base of his neck, where I tangle my fingers through his silky platinum hair. I could lie like this forever, but I know that soon I'll leave again, once more walking away from my source of pure happiness and love. Into the scathing realm of my life, where I'm perky and thankful, solving problems and killing evil creatures of the night. Paying bills, cleaning, flipping greasy burgers, and babysitting. Everyday I feel my wounded spirit dying a little more. I can't stand it.
I can't stand him.
*
"Leave, Spike.
"I could leave, but then where would you be?"
*
He stirs in his sleep, shifting under the white sheets. Muscles rippling, face like an angels', and I fall in love with him all over again. I can try to deny, but it seems to always come back, always creep up on me and hit me again just when I'm convinced that it's gone. I still cry, my breath hitching as my tears blur my vision of him. And he is truly a vision now, when he sleeps. Hair tousled, eyes shut, eyelashes resting gently of softer cheekbones, sensual mouth relaxed. My heart breaks, and something clicks in my head.
I have to leave for real this time, before he destroys me.
*
"It's over, luv."
"It can't be over because it never even started."
*
He wakes up suddenly, blue eyes popping open and intensely staring up at me as I lean over him. He looks deep in my watery gaze, and his mouth twitches, his eyes seeking in my hazel depths. And he sees it. He sees all my doubt and frustration, all my pain and anger, all my regrets and hopes, all my love and anger. And he understands. He knows that I can't do it anymore. He doesn't like it, but he feels the same.
I don't know if that makes my happy or sad.
*
"Do you love me, Slayer?"
"I could never love you."
*
So I get up, and with that, I'm gone. He stares after me, making me want to die. I can feel his heart through that gaze, and if I look back, then I'm finished. I won't be able to keep walking. I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so, so sorry.
You see, we were destined to love each other, but we were never meant to be.
~Ring around the rosie
Pocket full of posie
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down~
~FINIS~
Summary: Basically, a short, angsty fiction. It deals with Buffy's feelings after one of her numerous love sessions with Spike, during the short period of time when she lies there with him after a night of sex, wallowing in her self-hate and misery. Review, merci beaucoup (it's Francias, darlings). Oh yeah, this whole story is from Buffy's POV. And I thought I rambled!
* means conversation flashbacks
Disclaimer: So, Joss's lawyers call me up today, right? And their all, 'oh, you don't own anything, and if you dig through our clients garbage one more time, or snap pictures of him naked, or even tell his wife to leave the country immediately again, he's putting a restraining order on you, bitch. Got it, you psycho stalker?' Well, what's that all about?
Feedback: Please, please, please, and one more please. I love it, I need it, I don't deserve it, but it's good for my mental health. Thanks a lot, peeps. You are all da bomb!
On with the crazy babble!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm tired of unhappy ever after. I'm tired of make believe heroes. I'm tired of waking up here. I'm tired of loving you."
~*~*~*
I love him so much that I hate him.
It physically hurts to watch him, to look at that beautiful face and know that he's all I can never have. Those smooth contours, that hard body, that sweet heart. It was all meant for someone else, someone else who can stand him and not wish that he would leave, and make everything black and white again. I can feel the sour bile rise in my throat every time he smiles at me, or gazes at me with those bright blue eyes. It rises and rises when he screws me, when I love he feeling of him being inside. But, I imagine it to be there, I think.
*
"I love you, kitten."
"Well, I don't."
*
How can a person know so much, but feel so little? How can I face myself, and the thing that I've become, and still call myself a warrior of the good side? I can't. And it's all his fault. I blame it on him, because he's the one that made that huge fissure in my heart. He's the one that I love unconditionally, yet made me too ashamed to admit it. He's the one that I would die for, and do die for, every night in my vivid dreams.
It makes me sick.
*
"Love isn't brains people, it's blood."
*
His hair is pure white, gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the tiny window, almost always covered except for now. He sleeps, while I cry, oblivious to my eternal torment and heartbreak. How could he know that I will always love him, yet that I can never be with him? He doesn't know. He can't. He thinks that I don't love him because he's soulless, but I don't love him because I'm a liar. My hearts bursts with him, sings with his voice, but deep inside that black void swallows up everything else, and I'm left empty and hurting again.
I'm more twisted then he is.
*
"You're a monster, Spike. You kill and cause pain. Nothing more."
"But you're the one who sleeps with it."
*
Why does life hurt so much? Why can't I just be normal, with normal friends and a normal life and a normal lover that I'm not ashamed to be with? He doesn't deserve me. He never did. Big Bad or not, he knows what's true and he knows that I lie. But I'm adamant, and I'm sure he knows that he'll never have me like I have him. I'll never be his, no more then he should be mine. With us, there will be no good times. Our whole relationship is based on pain, violence, and being enemies.
He's still me enemy, even now. Lovers are enemies.
*
"I hate you, Spike."
"And I'm all you've got."
*
Those stories lie. The fairy tales that every child dreams of. I used to read of white horses and brave princes, but it was all lies. All made up. There is no horses or princes, and for me, there will be no happy ever after ending. I'm destined to die alone and heartbroken, fearful and afraid, knowing that I once touched Heaven and had to let it go. Does it say that in fairy tales? Do those jokes talk of demons in the night and pain? Eternal torment and salty tears that never end? Of course not. They also don't mention of heroes that don't exist, or despair so deep that you're swallowed up by the inky blackness.
But maybe fairy tales keep us from going insane with the darkness that would consume us.
*
"I can't do this anymore, pet."
"Then don't."
*
If everyone knew what I have to face, if they really knew of true destinies and prophecies, then they would know that life isn't perfect. They would know of slain demons and mangled hearts, and the palpable sadness that follows me wherever I go. I just want to die, to stop this throb of emotions, to be rid of this choking blindness. I'm tired of having to live in this harsh world, tired of lying, tired of loving him. Love hurts too much, and it's slowly killing me inside. It's eating my insides, and my guts are spewing on the floor.
And still I can't leave him.
*
"If I left would you even care, kitten?"
"Never."
*
So maybe this is my punishment, the torment I have to face. Touching him, yet never really feeling. Loving him, but never really having. And let me say, the gods chose well. He is the bane of my existence, yet also the light in my dreary world. It's a contradiction, but it's the utter truth. I can't live with him, and I can't live without him. It's true when they say there's a fine line between love and hate. I'm toeing the line, occasionally jumping back and forth.
I feel both at the same time. I love him, and I still hate him.
*
"Why do you hurt me, Spike?"
"I hurt you because I love you."
*
I don't have the strength to say no, yet I blame my weakness on him. I want to tell him that I'm sorry for being such a messed up fool, but I think he already can see the conflict in my sad eyes. He knows that I crave him, that I need him every single minute of every day, but that I also would stake him if he ever did anything bad to those I care about. Maybe that's why he hates me too. Maybe that's why that flicker of disgust and anger flashes through his deep eyes every time he looks at me. He wishes that he didn't love me either, but things like that are inevitable, and unchangeable. It just happens, even when you pray that the misfortune doesn't fall upon you.
Sleeping with the Enemy; more true then I can ever say.
*
"I hate you, Spike."
"And I'm all you've got."
*
I didn't notice that I was crying until the first hot tears drips down my cheek and off my chin, splashing onto the cold cement below. After that they begin to stream down, cascading in salty rivulets. I hope that he doesn't wake up now. I hate it when he sees me cry. He becomes sympathetic and gentle, and I can't hate him anymore. He just lets me sob, and just wraps those strong arms around me, and I feel that things will get better. I feel that everything will work itself out, that all my problems will be fixed.
That I could be with him forever, without consequences.
*
"Why, Slayer?"
"Because."
*
I trace a light fingertip down the sharp contrast of his pale cheekbone, down the side of his soft face, into the base of his neck, where I tangle my fingers through his silky platinum hair. I could lie like this forever, but I know that soon I'll leave again, once more walking away from my source of pure happiness and love. Into the scathing realm of my life, where I'm perky and thankful, solving problems and killing evil creatures of the night. Paying bills, cleaning, flipping greasy burgers, and babysitting. Everyday I feel my wounded spirit dying a little more. I can't stand it.
I can't stand him.
*
"Leave, Spike.
"I could leave, but then where would you be?"
*
He stirs in his sleep, shifting under the white sheets. Muscles rippling, face like an angels', and I fall in love with him all over again. I can try to deny, but it seems to always come back, always creep up on me and hit me again just when I'm convinced that it's gone. I still cry, my breath hitching as my tears blur my vision of him. And he is truly a vision now, when he sleeps. Hair tousled, eyes shut, eyelashes resting gently of softer cheekbones, sensual mouth relaxed. My heart breaks, and something clicks in my head.
I have to leave for real this time, before he destroys me.
*
"It's over, luv."
"It can't be over because it never even started."
*
He wakes up suddenly, blue eyes popping open and intensely staring up at me as I lean over him. He looks deep in my watery gaze, and his mouth twitches, his eyes seeking in my hazel depths. And he sees it. He sees all my doubt and frustration, all my pain and anger, all my regrets and hopes, all my love and anger. And he understands. He knows that I can't do it anymore. He doesn't like it, but he feels the same.
I don't know if that makes my happy or sad.
*
"Do you love me, Slayer?"
"I could never love you."
*
So I get up, and with that, I'm gone. He stares after me, making me want to die. I can feel his heart through that gaze, and if I look back, then I'm finished. I won't be able to keep walking. I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so, so sorry.
You see, we were destined to love each other, but we were never meant to be.
~Ring around the rosie
Pocket full of posie
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down~
~FINIS~