NOT FORGOTTEN (1/?)
Angel started at the wall, lost in his thoughts. It had been almost four
weeks since he had held Willow in his arms. He could still smell her.
Her scent covered his sheets. He had refused to wash them until her
scent completely faded away. He sighed, wondering what she was doing at
that moment.
He hadn't heard from her. Not a phone call. Not an email. Not even a
postcard. She had forgotten him completely. He knew it was his fault. He
had handled it all so badly. He had had four weeks to rethink every
detail of that night. He knew she must hate him. She had given him her
heart and he had refused to even go to Sunnydale to see her. He was a
bastard.
He heard a knocking on his door and frowned. Standing, he wondered where
the hell Cordelia was. She was suppose to answer the door. He didn't
want to talk to anyone. She had asked him about his mood, but he had
declined answering her. He knew she was growing worried about him. The
two of them had built a rather strong friendship over the last few
months. He didn't want her to worry, but he couldn't talk about Willow.
"What?" he asked, opening the door. His mouth dropped open as he looked
at the girl facing him.
"You bastard!" she said, hitting him across the face. She shoved him
into the office, her eyes glinting with anger. "You stupid, stubborn,
undead, unfeeling bastard. Get out of my way, I need some space."
"That hurt" he said, holding his nose. He looked at her, shocked to feel
nothing. Nothing but a nostalgic past love and loyalty. He watched her
pacing as he played with his nose. It felt broken. He cursed softly,
seeing the blood on his sweater. He saw her glaring at him and had to
ask, "Why exactly are you here, Buffy?"