Reflections
Summary: Drusilla reflects on missing Spike.
Disclaimer: All of Buffy and Angel belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy- I'm just stealing Drusilla and Miss Edith for 200 words or so.
Author's Note: This is my first time writing Buffy fan fiction, so concrit is greatly appreciated. I know Dru is a hard character to write, so any thing that could help me out is much appreciated.
Drip drop, drip drop.
Miss Edith and I listen to the rain.
It tells us lovely stories of blood and fear.
I used to dance in the rain. All the colours and sounds would make me sing, and sometimes my William would dance with me. He never quite got it, never quite learned to hear all the naughty, wicked promises the wind makes when it rushes past you.
But Spike is gone. Miss Edith and I dance alone.
Drip drop, drip drop.
It's singing to me. Miss Edith says something naughty about my boy, so I bind her eyes with a shimmering piece of cloth and tuck her away. She's being punished; I won't let her dance with me.
With the moon and stars croon, I don't hear that little part of me that misses him. I don't hear that little voice that I know is him, just dust on the wind now. My black knight let that slayer fill him, take him over, and now he's just another whisper.
Drip drop, drip drop.