Disclaimer: Not mine. The characters belong to the Buffy people. The song belongs to someone else too.
Rating: Um... PG-13?
Distribution: If you want it, take it. Just tell me where it's going.
Summary: Willow and someone meet. An almost-songfic.
Feedback: Please? I may make this into a longer story and if so I need to know two things. A) Did you like? And B) Who do you think the guy should be?
Dedication: To Bob1. I wrote this for her in about 15 minutes, because I said I would. Hope this helps! *g*
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Willow slipped through the library stacks, heart pounding with something that touched on fear before sliding into an excitement that made her breathing come in ragged gasps as she made her way further into the darkness.
Her foot caught on a book left on the floor by a careless student. For a moment her hands grasped frantically for support but by then she was already falling. Arms caught her and held her in a close embrace stronger than a mortal hold ever could be.
{Deep in the dark your touch will thrill me}
She could feel the chill of his skin through the loose weave of her sweater, an almost intimacy that raised goosebumps along her spine and made her press closer to him with instinctual need. At this moment it seemed that she had spent the whole of her life in the grips of a terrible fever, never knowing that she needed this icy touch to cool her skin and take away the sickness.
{Like days of old}
He closed his eyes, remembering other times when the touch of her skin, her scent, the flash of her eyes had raced through him like a flame. Times when he'd stood so close to her that it seemed that he could feel the radiating heat. Things were different then, he hadn't had the right to touch her, hold her close and never let her go.
{Lighting the fire of love that fills me}
Love. It was a strong word, and one Willow had always been hesitant about using. She had said that she loved Xander and that had eaten her away from the inside. She had loved Oz with a gentleness that was like the rain that falls in the spring: a quiet and beautiful shower that satisfies the body without touching the soul. This was different. This was like being hit by lightning and not caring. Like standing out under a sky that threatened destruction and letting energy pour into you, raging through your bones with a fury that was almost joy.
{With dreams untold}
The silence around them was absolute, the two pressed together with a need that outdated language by eons. He knew then, as he had known from the first moment he saw her, that they would live together for eternity. He could feel her acceptance in the silence, the certainty of her future death pulsing around them. The only thing that made it bearable for either of them was knowing that it would be temporary. But that was in the future, and the present was her warm hands sliding under his shirt and the small mock battles of lips and hands and tongues fought in silence.
{Each day I long for evening just to be with you}
Her back was against a shelf now, and she could feel the hard wood digging into her skin. It hurt, but the pain was far away right now. She would feel it tomorrow during the day, when the aches in her back would distract her from the endless progress of the sun against the sky. She anticipated their separation with angry resignation and pushed against him harder, desperate to seize every moment she could. With a low growl he responded to the increased pressure, his kisses losing their softness and becoming wild with possession. And then the lightning was there, scorching her skin from the inside out and she pressed mindlessly against the ice of him, his touch the only thing keeping her from burning up.
{Together at last in twilight time}
"Willow?" Buffy's voice was dimly heard by the two.
He swore as he released her, dying all over again as her heat stopped warming him and she moved farther away. With practised motions Willow smoothed down her hair and walked towards the sound of the Slayer's voice. Just before she turned the corner that would steal even the sight of her from him she turned and mouthed one word and was gone. He held that word to him like a torch set to ward away the cold that engulfed him in the day.
"Tomorrow."
The End