Just a short one shot.
Darla is inside Angel's head again.
It's a nasty little game.
She gets in through the open window and he never knows what's real and what isn't.
She's starting to think he might not care.
He's open and raw like this and she sits on his lap in what he thinks is a dream and kisses the skin of his neck.
She kisses the skin of his jaw and his lips also, flesh almost as tender as it was when he was living.
He smiles and sighs into it.
He whispers her skin feels good.
She whispers that his tastes good and he smiles and tilts his head back as she strokes his chest and arms and ribs. . . As she kisses the mouth that's kissing her's back.
Dream and life.
The living and the dead.
The in-between where they touch. Where she touches him and where he thinks he's only dreaming.
She could swallow him up.
Her beautiful boy with his filthy soul and his stupid ideas. She wants him the way he was. She wants him to be her's again. Cruel and mean and her's.
He groans against her, gentle and misguided.
She straddles his lap and eggs him on eggs him on to the real thing and he thinks it's okay because he thinks it's a dream.
He thinks he doesn't deserve this.
He thinks of Buffy.
He thinks it's okay because it's her and because it's not Buffy.
Darla let's him think that.
She'll wake him up when she's ready. Wake him up from these awful years and his awful soul. . . Wake him up from this false life he's been living so the two of them can be together again. So that the world can be put right again.
She'll drive out his thoughts of the slayer. Drive out his stinking guilt and misery. She'll have her world back and when she's done she'll be like him again.
Strong.
Dangerous.
Everything with be right and all she has to do is kiss him and touch him and lead him to the water bowl. The rest he knows how to do.
His hands fit around her hips and slide up her waist, fingers spread to take her all in. . . To feel all of her body and her body. . . Human again maybe but she knows what to do with it.
Knows how to burrow in deep like he is inside her.
Knows how to wrap around him and squeeze. . .
He thinks it's just a dream and so the nasty little game continues.
There are sirens outside his windows and people suffering in the streets. . . other people sleeping in their beds. The living and the dead. . . and the two of them in between.
Thanks for reading!