A Sigh Costs My Blood ch20
Connor turned onto his side, his bed was so warm. So comfy. Faith lay sleeping beside him. He sighed happily. The warm sunshine warm on his wounds, almost refreshing. He kissed Faith's back and closed his eyes. This was some sort of heaven.
Faith felt someone beside her, a familiar warmth and turned to come face to
face with Connor who opened his eyes in shock: "Connor," she yelled. "What?! What's happening?" Connor really wasn't fully aware everything outside of the room he was in and the time he was in was gone. She sighed: "Your dreaming about me again." "No...you're dreaming about me...now stop...it's not fair." Faith sat up shocked and angry: "Not fair!? Not fair on you? What the hell!" "Oh don't sing me your sad song slayer," Connor humphed. "God do you hear yourself you little..." "Little what?..Bitch!" Connor caught that last word, almost tried to stop it from leaving his tongue. And looked up guilty at Faith, she looked down. Almost regretfully for a moment before punching him square in the jaw. His head snapped back.
And Connor awoke in a field, his jaw sore. His wounds warm from the sun, but it was cloudy out. He looked up to see Anya teleport in front of him: "There you are! We've been worried sick and your father is very annoying when he's upset and he blamed me...just because I was supposed to be watching you." She looked authoritive and hurt.
"Uh...women," Connor growled, "Geez, so dumb." "You say that....but if you said that to Faith she'd-" "What?...Kick my ass?...Yeah probably, but I doubt I'd hold back on her now." He tried to rise, but failed and leant against a tree stump. Anya looked surprised: "Wa...wait here," she instructed.
Sure enough, Angel showed up. Disappointed and pissed. Faith in the background, watching him like a hawk and he looked back with the same overpowering resentment. He wanted to have this out with her, he didn't wanna deal but she was there constantly her very presence taunting him. She
felt the same way, it was a joke really. But it validated both of their earlier theories that love was for idiots and they should try to remain above that. Angel and Spike could sense the tension and once again Faith pointed out Connor's shoulder wound. Not that his indulgence wasn't perfectly clear to all, seen as he looked like he'd had six whiskeys then ran through
a field backwards. He resented it, resented all of them but most of all resented himself and advertised it with every look and breath in their presence, hard, cool, and deadly.
Angel managed to get him to a bedroom (in a hotel) to sleep, he'd resented it. Yelled at Angel that he was okay and rebelled against every single step. Connor heard the door close as Angel left the room, this time leaving Buffy
on guard outside, she wanted to read a new magazine anyway and watchin Mr. Trouble was a great excuse. Connor looked around at the mahogany furniture the cream hard surfaces..,it reminded him of something. He looked
down at the fluffy peach bed, it was kinda girlie, then he took his clothes off and lay down. Head in the pillow and closed his eyes. Then he did it. He choked. He choked and a long stream of tears fell, he cried heartbroken into the pillow begging that he would just die their, that the ground would shallow him up. His body felt weak as it shivered. His body rocking with every breathe and tear. Everything was falling apart. And he couldn't hold it together he didn't want to he knew he should have been strong. But no he
was so weak, he was sure he could feel his heart bleeding his ribcage breaking and falling. But he didn't care, he was lost. Lost so far in the darkness he was aching to remember what the light looked and felt like.
Faith looked down at her feet in the old cemetery, she had dreamed of him again. But he was, she hated him. So why was he still in her dreams? She wanted to punish him, to drag him into line. She really couldn't be bothered with his attitude. But, this place, it did something to her. And so did he. ..the stupid goofy happy looks he used to give her...she would have hated them on anyone else but on him...goosebumps worthy. Even if she didn't show
it. She liked who she was with him. But now there was no him. So she didn't
like who she was. She needed some sort of release, she wanted sex. She couldn't deny it, sex was always fun and liberating for her. Andrew walked over: "Hey Faith, Giles said that-" "Shut up," she instructed and pressed up against him kissing and grabbing. He delayed of course but kissed back. She ripped off his clothes in the middle of the cementary, he was ready. "Ew." She got out and stood up. "This isn't right...sorry." Andrew looked up naked and horny: "What? But I thought that we were gonna-" "Yeah sorry...on the rebound.and do you really want me to compare you with wonderboy?" A rhetorical question. That really wasn't a fair comparison, he
had loved Connor and they had done stuff to each other, understood each other in a way that now burned. It had been plain for everyone to see. And now there was just this big gaping hole. She wasn't angry anymore. She just
needed to talk to him so much, so she walked towards where he was staying. Trying to find the strength not to cry before she was behind locked doors.
Connor turned onto his side, his bed was so warm. So comfy. Faith lay sleeping beside him. He sighed happily. The warm sunshine warm on his wounds, almost refreshing. He kissed Faith's back and closed his eyes. This was some sort of heaven.
Faith felt someone beside her, a familiar warmth and turned to come face to
face with Connor who opened his eyes in shock: "Connor," she yelled. "What?! What's happening?" Connor really wasn't fully aware everything outside of the room he was in and the time he was in was gone. She sighed: "Your dreaming about me again." "No...you're dreaming about me...now stop...it's not fair." Faith sat up shocked and angry: "Not fair!? Not fair on you? What the hell!" "Oh don't sing me your sad song slayer," Connor humphed. "God do you hear yourself you little..." "Little what?..Bitch!" Connor caught that last word, almost tried to stop it from leaving his tongue. And looked up guilty at Faith, she looked down. Almost regretfully for a moment before punching him square in the jaw. His head snapped back.
And Connor awoke in a field, his jaw sore. His wounds warm from the sun, but it was cloudy out. He looked up to see Anya teleport in front of him: "There you are! We've been worried sick and your father is very annoying when he's upset and he blamed me...just because I was supposed to be watching you." She looked authoritive and hurt.
"Uh...women," Connor growled, "Geez, so dumb." "You say that....but if you said that to Faith she'd-" "What?...Kick my ass?...Yeah probably, but I doubt I'd hold back on her now." He tried to rise, but failed and leant against a tree stump. Anya looked surprised: "Wa...wait here," she instructed.
Sure enough, Angel showed up. Disappointed and pissed. Faith in the background, watching him like a hawk and he looked back with the same overpowering resentment. He wanted to have this out with her, he didn't wanna deal but she was there constantly her very presence taunting him. She
felt the same way, it was a joke really. But it validated both of their earlier theories that love was for idiots and they should try to remain above that. Angel and Spike could sense the tension and once again Faith pointed out Connor's shoulder wound. Not that his indulgence wasn't perfectly clear to all, seen as he looked like he'd had six whiskeys then ran through
a field backwards. He resented it, resented all of them but most of all resented himself and advertised it with every look and breath in their presence, hard, cool, and deadly.
Angel managed to get him to a bedroom (in a hotel) to sleep, he'd resented it. Yelled at Angel that he was okay and rebelled against every single step. Connor heard the door close as Angel left the room, this time leaving Buffy
on guard outside, she wanted to read a new magazine anyway and watchin Mr. Trouble was a great excuse. Connor looked around at the mahogany furniture the cream hard surfaces..,it reminded him of something. He looked
down at the fluffy peach bed, it was kinda girlie, then he took his clothes off and lay down. Head in the pillow and closed his eyes. Then he did it. He choked. He choked and a long stream of tears fell, he cried heartbroken into the pillow begging that he would just die their, that the ground would shallow him up. His body felt weak as it shivered. His body rocking with every breathe and tear. Everything was falling apart. And he couldn't hold it together he didn't want to he knew he should have been strong. But no he
was so weak, he was sure he could feel his heart bleeding his ribcage breaking and falling. But he didn't care, he was lost. Lost so far in the darkness he was aching to remember what the light looked and felt like.
Faith looked down at her feet in the old cemetery, she had dreamed of him again. But he was, she hated him. So why was he still in her dreams? She wanted to punish him, to drag him into line. She really couldn't be bothered with his attitude. But, this place, it did something to her. And so did he. ..the stupid goofy happy looks he used to give her...she would have hated them on anyone else but on him...goosebumps worthy. Even if she didn't show
it. She liked who she was with him. But now there was no him. So she didn't
like who she was. She needed some sort of release, she wanted sex. She couldn't deny it, sex was always fun and liberating for her. Andrew walked over: "Hey Faith, Giles said that-" "Shut up," she instructed and pressed up against him kissing and grabbing. He delayed of course but kissed back. She ripped off his clothes in the middle of the cementary, he was ready. "Ew." She got out and stood up. "This isn't right...sorry." Andrew looked up naked and horny: "What? But I thought that we were gonna-" "Yeah sorry...on the rebound.and do you really want me to compare you with wonderboy?" A rhetorical question. That really wasn't a fair comparison, he
had loved Connor and they had done stuff to each other, understood each other in a way that now burned. It had been plain for everyone to see. And now there was just this big gaping hole. She wasn't angry anymore. She just
needed to talk to him so much, so she walked towards where he was staying. Trying to find the strength not to cry before she was behind locked doors.