Sweet Awakenings.

She slowly traced the contours of his face; fingers light as butterflies’ wings as she committed every line to memory. Willow smiled as his soft lashes tickled the tips of her fingers, and then dropped her eyes apologetically as the lids fluttered open. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered. “I was just…” 

He reached up, his hand cupping her face gently, “Shh… it’s alright. I have better things to do than sleep anyway.” Angel’s hand moved like lightning, his fingers tangling roughly in the soft red locks he pulled her mouth to his and roughly claimed his prize.