Summery: Sequel to "'Tis the Season", "Is it Me?", and "Mirror Image". I'm pretty sure this story will make sense without having read the first three.
Timeline: Still takes place in Season Three after Angel came back from hell.
Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Angel. I just decided one day that Joss didn't make the two of them miserable enough, so I stepped in.
Author's Note: This is one of my favorite series that I have written, and I love the feedback I've been getting for them. Thanks so much and keep it coming. Oh, and by the way, it's still angsty. Very, very angsty.
Feedback: Feedback is highly encouraged. Oh, heck, gimmie, gimmie, gimme :)!

"I shouldn't love you. I know that." he spoke. I turn to face him, and cannot speak. I try, but no words come from my mouth. "Then why do I?"

"Why does anybody do anything?" I reply with a question. I know it will confuse him for at least a second. Then I may be able to find a way out. He sees what I am doing faster then I ever expected, so I am forced to elaborate further. "I honestly don't know why you love me. At times I don't even deserve it."

He walks up to me. His face is tender and remorseful. He knows I believe what I am saying, and feels guilty for reasons I cannot begin to understand. I feel the palm of his hand against my face. It is cold. It is always cold.

He takes a step back from me, and stares for several moments. I say nothing. He then blinks his eyes a few times, and speaks. "For so long we have tried to deny the truth that is there." he tells me. I feel a knife twist in my heart. I know what he is going to say before he even says it. Normally I would have thought that it was love, but now…I'm not even sure what love is.

"Angel," my words come out sounding desperate, but I do not care. My love for the man in front of me could push me to do anything. That is something that I cannot loose. "Please, don't do this."

He shakes his head. "I have to say this, so please, don't interrupt me. I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anything, and I will always love you." Tears sting my eyes. "But we can't be together."

"Why?!" I ask angrily. I raise the sound of my voice. I need to be heard. I need him to understand. "Why? Angel, I can't live without you. I love you."

His eyes wander off, no longer focusing on me. He thrusts his hands into his pockets, and remains silent, as do I. Instead I focus on my thoughts. How can he do this? He just said he loves me. Was he lying? What happened? What did I do?

"What happened to us?" I ask desperately. "We used to be so happy. Why can't we just be like that again? I want things to go back to the way that they used to be."

He shakes his head. "You know what happened. You and I…we don't work well together. If I stay here…with you…things will only get worse. And then, eventually, we won't be able to keep away from each other. I don't care if you want to run the risk of bringing back Angelus. I won't."

"I have to live with the things he's done for the rest of eternity. I can't add more bodies onto the pile."

I have to change his mind. He cannot leave me. I need him. "Angel, we don't have to have sex to be together. I don't need it. All I want is you. You're all I need."

"No matter what happens, the temptation will always be there. Every time I see you, it gets harder and harder to fight."

"You think this is easy for me!" I scream. People stare, but I could care less about them. "I love you so much, and seeing you is so damn hard that sometimes I just can't do it. But I still do. Because that's what you do when you're in love with someone. You do things for them even when it's hard, and even when it's painful."

"But you have the decision to blow me off instead of talking about things that make you uncomfortable!" he screams back. I have always hated his voice when he yells, and now is certainly no exception. "You always run from me. And you always will."

"I do not run!" his words hurt me deeply, but I still have the strength to yell. He seems so different, and I do not like it.

"Yes you do. Sometimes, you want a relationship, other times you want space, and sometimes, all we do is fight. Does that sound like two people that are in love? At least I try to talk to you, instead of hiding in my room whenever things get a little tough."

Silence endures for moments. Neither of us can find words, and all that I can seem to do is cry. He stands there, looking me over, then says, "You know what? Maybe I've always overestimated you. You may be the slayer, but you're still only seventeen."

He turns and walks away.

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