A/N: First venture into the world of ANGEL fic. I'm hoping to do some more
Wes/Fred works and maybe something surrounding Lorne. Hmm. Reviews are
welcome and appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything- they're all Joss Whedon's.
~*~
Loving A Memory
~*~
Ever since I was a little boy, I had wondered if you could die from heartache.
When my grandmother passed away, my grandfather seemed to just die piece by piece until we had to bury him a month later.
I'd posed the question to my parents more than once, but they'd always just brushed it off as childhood stupidity. I'd never stopped wondering though- not even when I went to Sunnydale all those years ago to be a watcher. Of course, at the time it hadn't been the only thing I'd been thinking about. I'd been rather caught up with the mayor at that time.
But now it's all I can think about.
I feel like I'm dying- I have ever since she left this world.
I'd felt like I was dying before then too. When she'd clutched to me and asked me to kiss her, my heart snapped for the hundredth time that day. Her lips had been chilled and shaking, her skin cool and pale, so unlike the usual vibrance and warmth they held.
We had only kissed a few times before, and heaven had been in each one. I revelled in those kisses, breathing her in and loving her more with each second.
I do still- love her. She had been so perfect and lovely.
Now she is a shell that holds an ancient demon longing to understand the world it is now living in. Each time I see Illyria, my heart breaks. She is so close......... but so far. A little piece of my soul dies now and then- but sometimes it's revived when Illyria mentions something that only the woman I love would feel connected to.
For instance, when Illyria had come to the lab for reasons it could not explain. That had been her- I know it. A small spark had ignited in my heart and told me to do this. She may come back.
But I still feel so numb inside.
I wake in the middle of the night every night, a tear-stained face and a heartache resulting from a dream of any variance. It might have been the first time I met her, or one of her jokes, or her in the lab, or the night she passed.
I wish every second of every day that I had been able to do something. Anything.
Now all I have are memories. Memories of a beautiful angel I so dearly loved- and who finally loved me in return. I've heard that's more than most people get in a lifetime, but all I can think is that it's not fair.
Two people who love each other should be together for eternity and back. But now all I have to love are these memories.
When some young lad gets married to his girl, he'll be loving her.
When a boy gives his girlfriend his school ring, he'll be loving her.
When an old man buries his wife of 64 years, he'll be loving her.
When I die, I'll be loving a memory.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or anything- they're all Joss Whedon's.
~*~
Loving A Memory
~*~
Ever since I was a little boy, I had wondered if you could die from heartache.
When my grandmother passed away, my grandfather seemed to just die piece by piece until we had to bury him a month later.
I'd posed the question to my parents more than once, but they'd always just brushed it off as childhood stupidity. I'd never stopped wondering though- not even when I went to Sunnydale all those years ago to be a watcher. Of course, at the time it hadn't been the only thing I'd been thinking about. I'd been rather caught up with the mayor at that time.
But now it's all I can think about.
I feel like I'm dying- I have ever since she left this world.
I'd felt like I was dying before then too. When she'd clutched to me and asked me to kiss her, my heart snapped for the hundredth time that day. Her lips had been chilled and shaking, her skin cool and pale, so unlike the usual vibrance and warmth they held.
We had only kissed a few times before, and heaven had been in each one. I revelled in those kisses, breathing her in and loving her more with each second.
I do still- love her. She had been so perfect and lovely.
Now she is a shell that holds an ancient demon longing to understand the world it is now living in. Each time I see Illyria, my heart breaks. She is so close......... but so far. A little piece of my soul dies now and then- but sometimes it's revived when Illyria mentions something that only the woman I love would feel connected to.
For instance, when Illyria had come to the lab for reasons it could not explain. That had been her- I know it. A small spark had ignited in my heart and told me to do this. She may come back.
But I still feel so numb inside.
I wake in the middle of the night every night, a tear-stained face and a heartache resulting from a dream of any variance. It might have been the first time I met her, or one of her jokes, or her in the lab, or the night she passed.
I wish every second of every day that I had been able to do something. Anything.
Now all I have are memories. Memories of a beautiful angel I so dearly loved- and who finally loved me in return. I've heard that's more than most people get in a lifetime, but all I can think is that it's not fair.
Two people who love each other should be together for eternity and back. But now all I have to love are these memories.
When some young lad gets married to his girl, he'll be loving her.
When a boy gives his girlfriend his school ring, he'll be loving her.
When an old man buries his wife of 64 years, he'll be loving her.
When I die, I'll be loving a memory.
