She hadn't fed in days. Not one single drop of blood since her sire had pulled her from the back seat of the car when the thing had eventually died on them forcing the pair to wait out the sun huddled in a nameless cemetery crypt Tara didn't know how far away from Sunnydale.
Mostly the wait was William attempting to find out just what it was that had Tara so determined to face the sun. Not that Tara had confessed beyond a whispered 'They were right' as Spike quietly inspected the burns blustering Tara's vampirically pale skin.
Now however Tara was warmed but something other than the prickling burn of the sun's rays as she follows the blended flavors of freshly ripened strawberries and rain to its source.
The scent alone makes something more than a hunger for blood run through the creeping vampire's mind.
Her love had her back to her when she drifted past the separating barrier of the bathroom door. More ghost than solid given her weakened state. The forced fasting and the literal distance between them weakened even the strongest of bonds with her girl. Still, even a strained bond was a welcomed one.
Willow's head bowed. Her shoulder tensed as her fingers splay out over the countertop. Her fingers nails painted a curious shade of black to any more 'Willowy' color choices.
She tries. She truly tries to cover those soft fingers with her own as she steps up behind her Wicca love. To experience more than just a memory of a feeling of her lover's heat under her fingers.
Willow's less-than-friendly gaze snaps towards her own in the steam-fogged bathroom mirror at what Tara suspects were a reaction to her less-than-normal body temperature earning a shy smile from the shadow of the vampire trying to nuzzle affectionately against her lover's shoulder.
"Tara?"
The whisper of her name so like the one her love gave after saving her from Glory.
"I don't know anymore," Tara confessed her hunger growing with each beat of Willow's heart against Tara's phantom front.
"What?" Willow questions confused "H—how can you not know?"
Tara's face shifts to her now true vampiric one at the show of hostility or that might have been the rather instant pounding on the door to her chosen hideaway before the already splintering threads of Tara's attempts to steal just a few more seconds with her love broke.
"As your grandsire, I'm asking you nicely to drink this down before I ask not so nice." Angel says bursting into the room with a warry Fred, Tara's only true attempted friend since arriving at the hotel trailing behind him.
"Please, Tara." The dark-haired woman pleaded as Angel loomed over Tara's hunched figure on the room's single bed.
"Drink first….girl talk or whatever after." Angel decides now in a much more fatherly tone as he sits at the edge of Tara's bed still offering the mug of blood like a true father offering warmed soup to a sickly child.
After a few traded looks between them, Tara with Fred's help Tara sits up and accepts the offering.
Back in Sunnydale Willow was trying however poorly to find that single point she could feel as Tara's and being unable to find any.