Willow's POV

      I hadn't meant for it to happen. Hadn't meant for me to lose myself
in him. Not like this. Not this soon. It was unavoidable if you think about
it. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to feel? My knight in
shining armor had come to my rescue and mended my broken heart, in turn
taking it with him.
He came to me every night, both looking for a solace from the pain. But
it wasn't just solace I found. No, it was so much more. In his arms I had
found a friend. I had found warmth. I had found understanding. I had found a
wonderful sense of humor.   But then I began to find heat. Find attraction.
Find desire. Find love.
      Who could blame me? How couldn't I? The pain slowly left, leaving room
for him to enter me slowly. For me to fall in love with him.
      Every night I waited patiently for him to come to my window. For him
to take me in his arms and stroke my hair. For him to tell me that everything
would be all right.  For him to make me laugh at a corny joke.
      But now everything is so different. I don't want to hurt anyone. And
I'm scared. I'm scared to think he might not love me. Might never be able
to. Might not want to.  And what if I ruin our friendship? A friendship I
don't want to ever lose.
      I curl up in my bed, a tear falling at my situation.
      I can't hurt her. She's my best friend, but I can't help it, I love
him. Dear God, I love him so much.
      Why does my life always have to be so complicated? Why can't I find
someone to love me? Why doesn't anyone want to love me?
      I can't seem to stop the shaking that has taken my body. My tears are
falling harder, making my eyes sting. I try to cover up a sob, but it slips
from my lips.
      And then I feel him. I feel his soothing hand caress my hair, his arm
moving to curl around my waist. My sobs become harder as I realize he has
come to me.
      "Shhh, Willow! Shh, everything's going to be okay."
      I can't help but turn in his arms, my own arms seeking him, holding
him close to me. I bury my head in the softness of his sweater, his hard cool
chest just beneath.
      His hands move to my back, his fingers lightly trailing up and down my
spine. I can't help but hold him tighter, and then I feel it and smile.
      <Please love me> I plead as he places another kiss in my hair.
      I look up and see the worry and warmth in his soft brown eyes and I
smile.  His cool lips kiss my forehead and I wish once more.
      <Please love me>
      I rest my head once more on his strong chest, no words needing to be
said out loud. We seem to be able to communicate without their use. I close
my eyes, the tears ending as I cling to the small hope my heart tells me to
hold on to.
      Sleep will come soon, and I will let it take me. Al least there I can
dream of a life with him without worries.

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Angel's  POV

      I punched him. I couldn't help it. I punched the son of a bitch. It
was about time he left her alone.
      I crack my knuckles. I hadn't meant to hit him, but he had it coming
to him. How dare he talk about her like that? How could he think I would
stand there and let him say all those lies about her?
      He doesn't know her. That's the problem. He doesn’t know her… not
like me. He doesn’t know how understanding she is, or how considerate she is.
Or how funny she can be? He doesn’t know how her mind works, let alone her
heart. But I do.
I do because I listened, because I wanted to know why she cried at night, why
she felt so alone. Why she felt so much like me.
      It hurts me to see her cry. Hurts me to see her in so much pain. I
thought it was getting better. I thought everything looked hopeful. I thought
she was getting over him.
      Was I wrong? Was she still mourning over a lost love? Couldn’t she see
what was right in front of her? Couldn’t she see me?
      God, sometimes I wonder if what I’m doing is right. If loving her will
hurt her more then help her. That’s the reason I kept returning to that
window every night. The reason I still do.
      It wasn’t like that before. Before it was about finding a way to ease
the pain. To try and forget the hurt from the people we thought we loved.
That’s what it was before. But it wasn’t like that anymore. I return now to
hold her. To press her against me and offer her my heart. To offer her my
friendship, my shoulder, and ultimately my heart.
      But I’m not sure if she’s ready. If she really wants that. If she
wants to accept me as far more then her friend.
      Tonight, to see her so sad, killed me. I hadn’t seen her cry in so
long, that I panicked. I didn’t know what to do, what she needed. My only
instinct was to take her in my arms and keep her safe. Safe from the pain.
Safe from him.
      And when I left her she was sleeping. I looked down to see I had
lulled an angel to sleep. I smile, damn, she looked beautiful. I had covered
her with a quilt that lay by her bed and headed off into the night, looking
back only once to memorize her face for the lonely night I faced ahead. To
memorize the face I would dream of as I did every night for the past two
months.
      But I didn’t come home. Instead my anger took me to his apartment. My
body was tensed with rage at him for having caused her to cry like that. I
yelled, the only way I would be able to speak tonight.
      “I didn’t see her tonight.â€?
      “Your positive?â€? I asked, not believing a word he said.
      “Maybe at the Bronze. What does it matter?â€?
      “You hurt her.â€?
      “When don’t I?â€?
      I would see him rolling his eyes, he’s voice filled with sarcasm, and
all I would think about was punching him out.
      “It doesn’t concern me. It doesn’t matter.â€?
      All I would feel was my anger getting the better of me. I pulled back
my arm, letting it fly forward, at him.
      “It matters to me,â€? I replied, as I looked down at him on the floor,
holding his broken nose.
      I didn’t bother to help him up; I just turned and left.
      As I lay in bed, my thoughts turn to her. My arms craving to hold her,
my lips begging to taste hers.
      Sleep will soon come and I smile, knowing soon will the dreams.
                              * * * * * * * * * * *

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