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Belladonnaroses
'Make it right for you sleeping beauty
Truly thought
I can magically heal you '
She was running and it was dark. She didn't know what she was running from or where she was running too. She didn't know if she was scared. The only thing she knows is that she has to keep on running. She can't stop.
The darkness has closed in on her and it's hard to breathe, she stumbles and runs straight into a hard chest.
And then she's on the ground, her hands landing in a sticky substance with a plop. She barely notices herself sinking into the muck because he stood before her. Him with his large brown eyes and spiked brown hair and that familiar sardonic grin on his face. He steps forward and she moves backwards.
Close your eyes.
The words bounce around the darkness, echoing. She can't force her lips to form his name, can't even sound it out in her mind. The others walk up behind him, Giles and Willow and Xander and her Mom, all of them glaring at her with accusing eyes.
Drusilla comes last and she dances as she nears the slayer, her feet and skin stained with the dark red color of the substance on the floor. She dances and twirls around them, moving closer and closer until she stops in front of Buffy and holds out her red palms, You can't ever wash it off.
And then Buffy looks at her pristine, trembling hands, and sees that they're soaked with blood. That was when she started to scream.
She screams until her throat is raw and she can taste the blood in her mouth from where she bit her tongue. She screams even after she has woken up, her face buried in his chest, his trembling arms around her, his voice rough with worry. She screams until it's no longer screaming and just the broken keening of a wounded animal. She screams until she can't see Angel in her head anymore.
Close your eyes.
She sits up and places her hands on his face, holding his gaze. His sea gray eyes look at her worriedly, wanting some reassurance that she's not going to snap. But she doesn't give him that, she just leans in close so that her breath is warming his cold skin and her hands still hold his face to hers on either side. And then she moves in so that their noses are pressing into each other and she can feel his hand tightening around her waist, and the only thing she can say to him is, 12 days, 16 hours, 59 minutes, 36 seconds ...
'You're far beyond a visible sign of your awakening
Failing miserably to rescue
Sleeping Beauty'
He doesn't say anything, he just holds her as she counts out the time to the chipped plaster walls. The sun fades in the sky and night sets in, but he doesn't leave her. He just lies her on the bed and removes her dress, tossing it to the floor. He wraps his cold arms around her and pulls the sheets around them both. He doesn't bother asking her what she dreamt because he knows she won't tell, and because he already knows that it had to do with Angel and what took place in that mansion on the outskirts of Sunnydale 12 days, 19 hours, 32 minutes and 45 seconds ago.
Finally she turns to him and slips and arm around his waist, I almost forgot.
He nods, understanding, watching as she chews on her lower lip, You'll forget again.
She stops the chewing and moves her large eyes to his, he trembles and he tightens his grip, murmurs something against her warm skin. She speaks again and her voice is like a child's, When?
He doesn't say anything, because he doesn't have an answer for her. She sighs, accepting, her hands curling through his bleached hair, taping at the base of his neck. Her breasts are pressed against his chest and he can feel himself hardening, but he doesn't want to rush her. He contents himself with stroking her stomach, his fingers dipping down her panty line to her sex every once in a while.
She flings one tanned leg over him and then moves so that she's straddling him, her panty covered crotch rubbing against his hardness. He can't contain the moan that slips past his lips as he says her name. She leans down, her naked breasts tantalizingly close to his own chest, her hair tickling his neck and face. She kisses him hard and says, I need you.
He doesn't protest, he just rips the panties from her and she slips down onto him, her voice calling out his name, Spike, Spike, Spike ...
He tightens his grip as she picks up the pace and her eyes are glazed, her fingers tweaking his nipples, playing with his balls, one hand slips between her legs and she comes. A few more thrusts and he follows.
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