"A Taste Of Heaven"
Author: Moe
Email: bearhugs12@hotmail.com
I remember everything about that day...every sound, every scent, every image, and every detail is engraved into my memory. There is not a moment that passes that I don't compare that day to. It was both the greatest and the worst day in my life. How can I forget?
We stumble into my dimly lit apartment, our breathing ragged. I close the door, glancing past the shade. I see no sign that we have been followed. I'm almost positive we haven't been. I glance at her and she's holding her side. Buffy had taken a sharp blow that had probably bruised or cracked a couple ribs. I cross over to her and notice she's trembling. My apartment isn't cold so I know its not from the temperature. The demon had been strong and she's afraid. I pull her into my arms, holding her close, trying hard not to put too much pressure on her injured frame. She returns my hug, though tighter. She holds on to me so tight I begin to worry about air. She reluctantly releases me as I step back. I place a finger under her chin, gently lifting her face so I can assess the damage. I notice a large bump on her forehead, and I touch it gingerly with my fingers, before brushing my lips across it.
I had come so close to losing her that all I want to do is hold her close and never let go of this precious girl. I feel the tears in my eyes, but I refuse to cry. She needs me to be strong now. She is still trembling, so I ask her to sit down, and she complies. I hand her a glass of water and she sips it slowly before handing it back. I sit down next to her, my hand gently drawing circles on her back as I whisper loving words to her.
She calms some--the only noise from her is the sound of her breathing slowing down. I brush her hair back so that it falls behind her shoulder. She turns to me, her face full of fear and sadness and she looks so close to tears that it breaks my heart. She lifts her hand so that it is resting on my chest. Her eyes lock on her hand and mine follow suit. I notice for the first time the rips in my sweater from the demon's claws. The scratches aren't deep and the blood has already dried. Yet, seeing the wounds has some kind of effect on her and her sweet face scrunches up as she tries to hold back tears. "I almost lost you tonight." I realize for the first time that she is afraid for me, not for herself. I reassure her that I'm fine as she scoots closer to me, her small hand leaving my chest to gently cup my face. Her thumb trails over my cheek as she stares into my eyes and for a moment, I am lost in their green depths.
She pulls me closer and I close my eyes, relishing in the feel of her hand on my face. I feel her breath on my other cheek before her warm lips graze my skin. A chill runs down my spine as my breath quickens. Her lips find mine and she gently sucks on my lower lip as I taste her upper one. I allow my hand to tangle in her hair as I cup the back of her head. Buffy moves her hands to my shoulders, lifting her small body so that she is straddling my lap.
I feel her tug at my sweater and my arms lift of their own accord as she pulls it over my head. Her hands brush the wounds again before she slides off my lap, kneeling in front of me. Her delicate lips find my chest with her tongue gently cleaning the throbbing scratches.
Wanting to be closer to her, I pull her up, so that we are both standing. I run my finger gently across her cheek, tracing her features, before trailing them down her neck, shoulder and side. I grab the hem of her top and lift. I notice her wince as she raises her arms and concerned, I stop. But she won't have that. She ignores the pain as she lifts her shirt the rest of the way off, before taking off the sports bra she wore underneath. I pause to admire her--she is absolutely beautiful in the dim light of my apartment and I want to drink in the sight of her. My fingers softly graze her breast, and she arches into my touch. Her hands fumble at my waist as she struggles to get my pants off. She is still trembling, making the job of unbuttoning my jeans difficult. I gently brush her hands away, pulling her to me, and her mouth meets mine in a slow, deep kiss. I leave her breathless as I slide her sweat pants and panties off and then manage to get my jeans and boxers off as well. Her tongue slips into my mouth as I kiss her again and I slowly back her towards the bed. I encourage her to lay down before I join her. Careful of her injuries, I begin to caress her body as my mouth devours hers. I leave her precious mouth to gently suck her earlobe. Her hands stroke my back, run through my hair and everywhere she touches, she leaves a trail of fire.
She is the only thing I see, I smell, I taste, and I know I can live like this forever. Just being in her arms, loving her. As I position myself above her, gazing into her emerald eyes, I know I would do anything for this girl. I slowly push into her tiny body, grateful she is with me, in my life. She doesn't love me, this I am sure of, but that doesn't matter. She needs me. Whether it be my body, my comfort, or my friendship, I am willing to give her it all, for as long as she need me. I thrust gently in her, whispering those words I know will never be returned, tasting the skin of her neck, caressing her body, making love to her. *We've* never made love. Sure, I make love to Buffy every time we are together. For me it is almost like touching heaven each time I'm in her arms, but those feelings are mine and mine alone. Of course, the sex is always great, mind blowing even. But Buffy, she doesn't love me.
She buries her head in my neck and she begins to tremble, not from the sex, but from something else. The tears I feel there cool my heated skin and I still inside her body. Fearing I am hurting her, I pull back to see the streaks shining in the dim light. I run my thumb over her cheek, wiping the tears from her face. I begin to pull away from her, not wanting to cause her more pain, but she holds my arms tightly, pulling me back into her embrace. She lifts her hips, setting the pace. Kissing my lips, her hands gently scratch at my back. Her tears are still coming and it breaks my heart. She pulls me close, her lips gently sucking on the skin below my ear. I concentrate on her neck and shoulder as I continue caressing her body. I can feel the pulse in her neck and I gently lave my tongue over it, wishing that heart belonged to me.
I can hear her panting softly in my ear, tiny moans escaping her lips with each thrust I make. Her breath hot on my ear, she softly whispers my name. "Riley?" I pause, waiting for her to continue. "I..." she starts, a little unsure of herself. "I-I love you!" Its so quiet, I almost don't hear it and I'm not even sure if I heard her right. I pull back to look at her and she must register my shock because she slowly nods and says it again, louder this time. I feel like I can't breath and as I gaze into her expressive eyes,the truth I find there shakes me to the bone. Her eyes are full of nothing but devotion and love. I can't stop myself, I begin tosob uncontrollably. Months of insecurity and doubt flood from my mind as I soak in the words that I craved to hear since I first declared my own feelings.
Buffy seems to understand because her eyes once again fill with tears as she pulls my head to her chest, cradling me in her arms. She kisses my head, whispering loving words to me as she tries to calm me. We stay like that for several minutes, the tears flowing freely, her holding me close. I never thought I would hear those three words, never dreamed of the profound effect they would have on me.
I'm the first to move, raising up so that I am face to face with my angel, I dip my head down and capture her sweet lips with my own. We begin our dance again, but this time it's different. I don't feel so alone, I feel as though she is making love to me. As she wraps herself tighter around me, and as I feel my self getting closer to the edge, I feel as though we are one being, moving together in perfect motion.
She comes moaning my name, trembling against me and I soon follow, collapsing against her. She welcomes my weight, kissing my forehead, pushing the sweat laden strands of hair off my forehead. I roll over onto my back, pulling her with me. Her small frame snuggles against my larger one, her head resting on my chest as I stroke her back lovingly. Her breathing has slowed and I think she may be asleep when I hear her whisper again that she loves me. I return her declaration, and I can feel her smile against my chest. She stills after awhile and soon I hear her snoring softly. I'm about to join her in peaceful slumber when the sudden ringing of the phone pierces the quiet.
I rush to answer it before it wakes the sleeping form of my beloved, but she stirs as my body untangles from hers. I reach the phone as she is sitting up, covering herself with the sheets. It's Giles. There is some big emergency that requires the slayer and I curse not taking the phone off the hook. Buffy is already getting dressed when I hang up the phone and I follow suit.
Dressed and ready for battle, we jump into my little Camry and make our way over to Giles. I still feel giddy from Buffy's declaration and I know I am smiling like an idiot, but that doesn't matter. She loves me, nothing else matters.
As we drive through the empty streets of Sunnydale, I find myself reflecting on the events of the evening. I feel like I'm high, not on a drug, but on her. She infects my very being and I know I am addicted. I glance over at her, occasionally, as the street lights illuminate her features. She has a happy, content look on her face, and I can't help but smile. She notices and grins back at me. I pull to a stop at the light on Madison and 8th. The streets are abandoned, but I still feel the need to follow the law. I notice Buffy undo her seatbelt before scooting closer to me. She pulls my head down, kissing me deeply, stroking my neck.
She pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against mine and I close my eyes, breathing in her scent. She is the first to notice the light has changed and she pulls away, smiling. I watch her scoot back into her seat. It is then that I notice the figure outside her window.
Its fist slams through the glass, scattering the fragments across Buffy's lap. She ducks to cover her head from the shards, and she cannot recover in time. The demon wraps its arm around her, pulling her from the car. I claw desperately to get out of my seatbelt, but I am in panic mode and can't seem to make my hands work.
I watch helplessly as the creature throws Buffy back into the rear passenger side door with such force that the glass cracks. I yank at the material holding me in the car, but I can't seem to get it off. I watch as the demon again throws her tiny body into the car, this time breaking the glass. Her grunts of pain are too much for me and I grab the knife that I always keep in my boot and cut through the seatbelt. By the time I am free, the demon has thrown Buffy against the car for the third and final time and I watch as it steps away from her, and her body slides to the ground with a soft thump. I scramble from the car, noticing the demon take off down the street. I could care less about it though, the only thing that matters is the small woman I can no longer see.
I race around the car, my heart beating so fast, silently praying that she is all right. I notice the knife a few feet from her, stained with blood, carelessly dropped during the demons escape. Then I see her, slumped against the car and my worse nightmare becomes reality. Blood has soaked her shirt and pants, the force of the stabbing leaving her face speckled with red dots. I immediately run for her, the glass on the street from the window bites into my knees as I kneel beside her, pulling her to me as I look for the wounds. There are three of them, all deep, all critical. I try to place pressure on them, but I am at a disadvantage, there are three wounds and my two hands just aren't adequate enough. She is gasping for air and I can tell that one of the stabs must have punctured a lung because she gurgles a little and it only worsens with each passing second. She tries desperately to speak, but I shush her, tell her to conserve her strength. I reach for my cell phone, but do not find it at my waist. Then I remember that I left it recharging in the car. I go to get it, but she holds on tight to my arm. She pleads with her eyes for me to stay and even in this weakened state, she is stronger than me and I'm forced to oblige.
She tries to speak, her voice no more than a whisper and I can see her teeth are stained with blood. I just hold her to me, sobbing, whispering words of love and devotion, begging her not to leave me. But it is inevitable, and as I hold her close to my chest, her blood soaking through my sweater, I feel her grip loosen, her body going limp in my arms. Her eyes have glazed over and her breaths come in short gasps and soon, all too soon, stop. I stare at her still form in utter disbelief. The woman, once so vibrant and full of sunshine and life, the woman I love more than my own life, lay in my arms motionless, her soul having fled this world for the next, and all that I can do is hold her body, begging her to come back to me.
The cold wind hammers my face as these memories replay through my mind over and over again. The rain pelts my head, but I barely notice. The umbrella Willow had offered me hangs limply from my hand. I don't feel the cold, the wet, all I feel is numb. I look around at my fellow mourners, all huddled together under umbrellas in an attempt to stay dry. Joyce and Dawn hold each other close in an attempt to comfort each other. I watch as Joyce lifts a tissue to her red nose, raw from the tears that have been shed over the past few days. Dawn's face is a mask of sadness, the tears slowly streaming down her young face, and if my heart could break anymore I'm sure it would for her. But my heart shattered the moment Buffy gasped her last breath and no amount of glue could piece it back together.
Willow stands next to Dawn, sharing an umbrella with Tara. Tara is stroking the other witches back, kissing her forehead, whispering reassuring words into Willow's ear. And I am glad that they have each other. Xander stands next to Anya, his usual jovial countenance nowhere to be seen. He stares at the coffin, tears falling freely, doing nothing to hide the aching he feels over losing his friend. Anya is also shaken, she stares at the coffin almost as if she is wondering if she could be next. Giles's lower lip trembles and he is fighting back tears. He places a comforting hand on Joyce's shoulder, which she accepts with a small smile.
My eyes find the last of the group. I knew he would come, and now looking at Angel, I feel sympathy for the vampire. His face mirrors my own pain, and I know that we both feel the deep loss of our sweet love. He is flanked by two others, a man and a woman I have never met. From the looks of it they knew her well as they were both tearful.
The priest continues with the sermon, but his words offer me little comfort. In the distance I hear the thunder roar and it is as if the heavens themselves are mourning the loss of this angel. Through my tears, I stare at the tiny coffin holding my lovers body and I have the deepest urge to throw myself into it and spend the rest of eternity in her arms. I've never felt this kind of all consuming ache and I know it is killing me. I curse God for allowing me to taste heaven only to have me cast down into a life of hell. And that is what my life is like without her. I wonder what I did so wrong that God would punish me by taking her innocent life.
Over the course of the last couple of days, I have fought off the urge to drown my sorrows in the bottle, fill the void she has left in my life with alcohol, but that would only make me forget. And I don't want to forget her, forget her courage, loyalty, beauty, and kindness. And at least feeling the pain is knowing that I'm alive.
I choose instead to carry on her legacy. To fight those forces that ripped her from my side, to fight for her family, for her friends. To suffer all the pain and anguish that comes with that fight. And if I fall defending the innocent, I'll die knowing I fought for her. I'll wait here until that day, until that day I will pass from this existence to join her in the bliss of eternity. So as I lay the rose upon her coffin, I'm not saying `good-bye', only `until we meet again, my love!'
The End