I fell asleep waiting for her, and awoke in the midst of the night,
hearing her slam the door closed. Without moving I watch her place her
coat on the rack, hands shaking from the motion.
"Buffy?" I asked tentatively, throwing the thin blanket off and moving toward her. When her green eyes meet mine I see fear, and that scares me. She fights away my embrace and turns her back on my watching eyes, reigning in the emotion she so carelessly let lose. It would ruin her to let me in and help with her feelings.
Her gaze is back to mine, they're moist with unshed tears. "I'm going to wash up." She tells me plainly and I nod. Without a second thought she makes her way to the joint bathroom and closes the door. Sometimes, when her patrol ends early she'll lead me with her to the shower and we'll help each other strip before drowning under the hot streams of water and passion.
Not tonight though, the water will be cold and she'll only be joined by her tears. I used to try to help with her grief, but even a psychology major can't help her in these states.
When I was still under the impression that I could save her from the shattered pieces of blood that decorated her soul she would just turn on me.
"What do you want from me Riley, what haven't I given you?" She yelled at me in rage one night when the rain pounded against the window, only adding to her anger.
I drew in a steady breath and watched her sweat covered skin glisten in the pale light. "I just want to help Buffy."
I tried to hold her gaze but she had already directed her attention toward the floor. "I can't do this." She said at last and rushed toward our room, but I stood in the doorway, blocking her.
"Tell me what's wrong!" I screamed, wanting to shake her. "You never let me in, I just want to know what's going on!"
The fist came so fast I felt the pain before I realized she'd hit me. It had been a left hook, her specialty, connecting in my cheek and with enough force for the knuckles to bloody my nose.
"I killed my sister!" She was crying her eyes losing the predatory glare they had held. "I let her die, I watched her jump." Her sobs came so hard she could barely make out the words, and I took her into my chest as she turned from Slayer to human before me. Her body shuddered against mine and I watched as my blood and her tears pooled together, cementing our love in death.
I hear the shower turn off and it brings me back to reality. Her frail frame emerges, wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and white tank top. The wet locks of blonde hair trail down her back, dripping water onto the floor as she moves. Even with her eyes sunken in and her state broken, she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"You didn't need to wait up for me." She tells me tiredly, coming to sit by my side. I'm surprised, but I keep the emotion inside. I wrap an arm around her and draw her on closer. She smells of vanilla.
"Just wanted to make sure you got home safety." I say quietly. She doesn't me to be sexual, she wants calming. I can do that for her, I can do anything for her.
Tears have formed in her eyes, and for once she lets them come unbidden in my presence. I draw her into my chest, cooing softly in her ear until she's sobbing. "Let it out Buffy, let it all out." My hand is running down her back in a calm gesture.
She shudders and I feel each contraction of the movement. "I don't deserve you." She whispers, finally getting a reign on her tears. "I don't deserve any of this."
"Yes, yes you do." I smile and she watches me with eyes that show something other then the glaze of death. Sometimes I think her spirit feel along with Dawn and it never found it's way back to her.
She starts to cry again, and I hold her tighter. Her murmuring is muffled by the material of my shirt, but she's repeating what she already told me.
We fall asleep this way, and I've never been closer to her in my life.
"Buffy?" I asked tentatively, throwing the thin blanket off and moving toward her. When her green eyes meet mine I see fear, and that scares me. She fights away my embrace and turns her back on my watching eyes, reigning in the emotion she so carelessly let lose. It would ruin her to let me in and help with her feelings.
Her gaze is back to mine, they're moist with unshed tears. "I'm going to wash up." She tells me plainly and I nod. Without a second thought she makes her way to the joint bathroom and closes the door. Sometimes, when her patrol ends early she'll lead me with her to the shower and we'll help each other strip before drowning under the hot streams of water and passion.
Not tonight though, the water will be cold and she'll only be joined by her tears. I used to try to help with her grief, but even a psychology major can't help her in these states.
When I was still under the impression that I could save her from the shattered pieces of blood that decorated her soul she would just turn on me.
"What do you want from me Riley, what haven't I given you?" She yelled at me in rage one night when the rain pounded against the window, only adding to her anger.
I drew in a steady breath and watched her sweat covered skin glisten in the pale light. "I just want to help Buffy."
I tried to hold her gaze but she had already directed her attention toward the floor. "I can't do this." She said at last and rushed toward our room, but I stood in the doorway, blocking her.
"Tell me what's wrong!" I screamed, wanting to shake her. "You never let me in, I just want to know what's going on!"
The fist came so fast I felt the pain before I realized she'd hit me. It had been a left hook, her specialty, connecting in my cheek and with enough force for the knuckles to bloody my nose.
"I killed my sister!" She was crying her eyes losing the predatory glare they had held. "I let her die, I watched her jump." Her sobs came so hard she could barely make out the words, and I took her into my chest as she turned from Slayer to human before me. Her body shuddered against mine and I watched as my blood and her tears pooled together, cementing our love in death.
I hear the shower turn off and it brings me back to reality. Her frail frame emerges, wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and white tank top. The wet locks of blonde hair trail down her back, dripping water onto the floor as she moves. Even with her eyes sunken in and her state broken, she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"You didn't need to wait up for me." She tells me tiredly, coming to sit by my side. I'm surprised, but I keep the emotion inside. I wrap an arm around her and draw her on closer. She smells of vanilla.
"Just wanted to make sure you got home safety." I say quietly. She doesn't me to be sexual, she wants calming. I can do that for her, I can do anything for her.
Tears have formed in her eyes, and for once she lets them come unbidden in my presence. I draw her into my chest, cooing softly in her ear until she's sobbing. "Let it out Buffy, let it all out." My hand is running down her back in a calm gesture.
She shudders and I feel each contraction of the movement. "I don't deserve you." She whispers, finally getting a reign on her tears. "I don't deserve any of this."
"Yes, yes you do." I smile and she watches me with eyes that show something other then the glaze of death. Sometimes I think her spirit feel along with Dawn and it never found it's way back to her.
She starts to cry again, and I hold her tighter. Her murmuring is muffled by the material of my shirt, but she's repeating what she already told me.
We fall asleep this way, and I've never been closer to her in my life.