Enigma)
Under the weight of your wings.
You are a god and whatever I want you to be.
And I wonder if truly you are, nearly as beautiful as I believe.
"You can't come in Spike," she crossed her arms. He crossed his legs, leaning against the door frame. She backed away when he got too near to her face.
"You didn't say that last night,"
His hands became close enough to her face to make her turn around. Pull away.
"You've been drinking," she said it like she wasn't expecting it. Like they didn't drink all the time. Like she didn't drink with them. The syndicate life, "can I talk to you Julia?" he pressed into her, probably because he could barely stand up right-up himself.
Julia, although she shouldn't have, although she wanted to let him fall flat on his face, caught him.
She pulled the robe she wore tighter, after laying him back on the couch.
His face was somewhat flushed, sweat beginning to work it's way across his forehead. He was like a child. Or a teenager, maybe, after his first night out drinking.
To Julia, he was an enigma. Spike knew how to hold his liquor. He knew exactly how much to drink and he definitely knew the true meaning of a "charming drunk". So maybe he wasn't as drunk as he would like to be. Maybe he wished he could fall away and never wake up. Wake up with a headache and with short-term memory loss.
She knew what he was working to forget.
The hardest part is that when she sat down next to him, using the cold washcloth she had fetched to wipe away his warmness, she knew the only thing he really wanted to forget was her.
"You're so beautiful," his hands were warm against her skin yet it sent shivers down her spine, "what cha' thinking bout beautiful?" he seemed content enough.
Maybe, he wanted it this way. When it all came crashing down he wanted to know that he could blame it on the liquor.
She knew he didn't want her any other way.
If he had to remember anything he wanted to remember that it wasn't his fault. This was, of course, only if he had to remember.
Yet, she rested her head on his chest, her hand falling away from the wash cloth still on his forehead to cup his cheek.
"That job tomorrow," he made a hmph noise and just as soon he was asleep.
Really what she thought of was the fact that the only thing he wanted to forget about was her in his arms. And she hugged tighter.