Chapter 3: Lie With Me
Buffy had stayed there four times this week, begging for the closeness the comfort her brought her.
Anything she could do to forget.
To make it stop.
White noise, the pounding the guilt. It was tearing her apart inside.
More than anything, it was the dreams that got her. She would dream herself naked in fields; fields in which there was no life: desolate and dead. Wrapped in dead roses, covered in dried on blood. She dreamt of foetuses, of tiny heartbeats which droned on and on in her head.
She never wanted to leave the sanctity of his arms. She wanted to scream and break everything into minute pieces…if only she could find the energy.
Her mind worked in overdrive, taking her everywhere she didn't want to go. Where, when, why, how, hair colour, gender...
Round the houses and through the streets, backwards and forwards.
And that little white room...
****
She's sprawled on his bed; the room dimly lit. Grimacing as she takes swigs of whiskey from his flask.
"The bleeding stopped," she remarked abruptly, but so quiet, almost so not to be heard, then louder. "Ugh, how can you drink this stuff?"
"When did it stop, pet?" Turning to face her, not letting the cooment pass. "Oh, and you're making a pretty good job yourself." He nodded to the flask, trying to produce a smile. It came out more like a grimace.
"Yesterday." Her voice dropping to a whisper. "I...the doctor advised me to…go on the pill. So well, uh, I did." She looked at him funnily. In almost a completely new way.
"Good idea," he murmured. "Is your mum okay with you staying here again?"
"Yeah, but she's beginning to think there's something going on..." She smiled at him.
"She'll be happy then."
"Yeah." They shared a laugh; Joyce had been trying to pair them off since they were kids.
She jumped up all of sudden and hugged William impulsively.
"Buffy, are you drunk?"
"Amn't," she slurred, and toppled the pair of them onto his bed " 'K maybe I am; but only a teeny bit." They both began to giggle uncontrollably.
She stroked a cheekbone.
"What would I do without you, Will?"
She leaned in for a kiss, her soft cool lips crashed down upon him.
He pulled away slowly. "No, Buffy, no." He put his head in his hands.
"William? I'm sorry...I just want to kiss you. I know you want to kiss me too..."
"Buffy, I can't. I can't take advantage of you like that," he spat out.
"But I want you to..."
"Okay, it's time for bed now."
"William, I'm sorry. Lie with me?"
****
In the depths of the night she runs her fingers down his spine, digging her nails into his back. He draws her closer to him, his knee in her crotch. An involuntary reaction of semi-awake body.
He wants to stop. He knows he should.
He wants to carry on. In some ways, he wishes this moment will never end. His mind is screaming no. His body screaming yes.
They couldn't be any closer…her thighs squeeze his knee as she continues her bruising assault on his body.
Not a single kiss as she whispers over and over again.
"Never leave me, never leave me…"
Buffy had stayed there four times this week, begging for the closeness the comfort her brought her.
Anything she could do to forget.
To make it stop.
White noise, the pounding the guilt. It was tearing her apart inside.
More than anything, it was the dreams that got her. She would dream herself naked in fields; fields in which there was no life: desolate and dead. Wrapped in dead roses, covered in dried on blood. She dreamt of foetuses, of tiny heartbeats which droned on and on in her head.
She never wanted to leave the sanctity of his arms. She wanted to scream and break everything into minute pieces…if only she could find the energy.
Her mind worked in overdrive, taking her everywhere she didn't want to go. Where, when, why, how, hair colour, gender...
Round the houses and through the streets, backwards and forwards.
And that little white room...
****
She's sprawled on his bed; the room dimly lit. Grimacing as she takes swigs of whiskey from his flask.
"The bleeding stopped," she remarked abruptly, but so quiet, almost so not to be heard, then louder. "Ugh, how can you drink this stuff?"
"When did it stop, pet?" Turning to face her, not letting the cooment pass. "Oh, and you're making a pretty good job yourself." He nodded to the flask, trying to produce a smile. It came out more like a grimace.
"Yesterday." Her voice dropping to a whisper. "I...the doctor advised me to…go on the pill. So well, uh, I did." She looked at him funnily. In almost a completely new way.
"Good idea," he murmured. "Is your mum okay with you staying here again?"
"Yeah, but she's beginning to think there's something going on..." She smiled at him.
"She'll be happy then."
"Yeah." They shared a laugh; Joyce had been trying to pair them off since they were kids.
She jumped up all of sudden and hugged William impulsively.
"Buffy, are you drunk?"
"Amn't," she slurred, and toppled the pair of them onto his bed " 'K maybe I am; but only a teeny bit." They both began to giggle uncontrollably.
She stroked a cheekbone.
"What would I do without you, Will?"
She leaned in for a kiss, her soft cool lips crashed down upon him.
He pulled away slowly. "No, Buffy, no." He put his head in his hands.
"William? I'm sorry...I just want to kiss you. I know you want to kiss me too..."
"Buffy, I can't. I can't take advantage of you like that," he spat out.
"But I want you to..."
"Okay, it's time for bed now."
"William, I'm sorry. Lie with me?"
****
In the depths of the night she runs her fingers down his spine, digging her nails into his back. He draws her closer to him, his knee in her crotch. An involuntary reaction of semi-awake body.
He wants to stop. He knows he should.
He wants to carry on. In some ways, he wishes this moment will never end. His mind is screaming no. His body screaming yes.
They couldn't be any closer…her thighs squeeze his knee as she continues her bruising assault on his body.
Not a single kiss as she whispers over and over again.
"Never leave me, never leave me…"