I woke up with a slight groan. My body ached, my vision was hazy,
and I was
against something hard and cold. "Ug," I said softly, turning.
I yelped
slightly, moving away from his still form. It was Spike, of course.
He was
dead asleep. And when I say dead, I mean literally.
I leaned towards him, pushing his chest slightly. No normal raising
and
falling of the chest, no breathing, nothing. He wasn't cold,
like a normal
dead body - it's truly sad that I'm 20 years old and have seen more
dead
bodies than most people do in their entire lives, yet something else
to
thank Buffy Summers for - but he was cool.
I was a necrophiliac.
That bothered me. It really did. I mean, I guess technically,
I wasn't,
since he was an animated corpse, but. . .
I shivered, slipping out of bed. I had to get away from him, from
his cool
body and long fingers, from that blonde hair and those blue eyes, the
lashes
fluttering against his cheeks, from the small kisses he placed on the
hollow
of my throat, from the fangs that sunk so desperately into my skin.
. .
I was suffocating.
He wanted me. All of me. He wanted everything I am, everything
I was,
everything I ever will be. And I had given him permission to
have it, all
for Xander's life.
My goddess, what have I done?
I feel stupid. . .but I know it won't last for long. I've been
guessing. .
.I could've been guessing wrong. . .Buffy doesn't know me now.
I thought
she should, she should know what I've done for her, what I've been
through -
for her. If she could have used her brain to comprehend that.
. .I wouldn't
be in this situation now. I wouldn't be struggling in pain to
make it to
the bathroom, I wouldn't be about to cry.
This whole mad season has got me down.
I made it to the bathroom and gasped at my reflection. I was pale,
my skin
was tight. I had bloodshot eyes framed with black circles.
I had a slight
cut on my lip from kissing Spike in gameface, and I had those two prominent
holes in my neck.
I leaned forward, studying them. They were deep. . .oh goddess.
. .I hoped
they weren't deep enough to where he claimed me. . .but I was sure
they
were.
Spike never did anything half assed.
So now I belonged to him, body, heart and soul. I didn't back
down on my
promises, and I promised him my heart and soul last night. He
owned my
body, and every demon in Sunnydale would know it.
Somehow, that didn't comfort me.
I'd been changing. . .thought it was funny how no one knew. We
didn't talk
about the little things that we did without.
I started to sob.
"Pet?"
I looked up at him, standing there at the door, actually looking like
he
gave a damn. I knew he didn't. I was just something for
him to control,
something he could shape into the idea of the perfect mate. He
didn't give
a damn about me. . .about who I really was. He wanted the darkness,
but he
didn't care for the fluffy part of my soul, and I knew that.
And yet. . .seeing him stand there, leaning against the door, arms crossed
over his pale lean chest, jeans riding low on his hips. . .it calmed
me
somewhat. It was comforting watching him, as if he was the beginning
and
the end, and everything in between. He was the storm, and my
shelter to
said storm.
"So why ya gotta stand there, looking like the answer now? It
seems to me,
you'd come around. . .I need you now. Do you think you can cope?
You
figured me out, Spike, I'm lost and I'm hopeless. . .bleeding and broken.
Though I've never spoken. . .I come undone in this mad season."
Confusion passed over his face. "Red?"
"I feel stupid, but I think I've been catchin' on. I feel ugly,
but I know
I still turn you on. . ." I turned slightly, tears streaming
down my face.
"So are you gonna stand there, are you gonna help me out? You
need to be
together now. . .I need you now, Spike. Goddess, I need you."
He reached out to me and pulled me to him just as I was about to collapse.
I buried my face in his neck, sobbing. He held me, but he wasn't
as
comforting as a non-demon type would have been. He wasn't as
comforting as.
. .Xander would have been.
I sobbed harder. "Now I'm crying. . .isn't that what you want?
I'm trying
to live my life on my own, but I won't. At times, I do believe
I'm strong.
. ." I look up at him. "But do you know what I've done,
in this mad
season?"
His blue eyes flickered with curiosity. "What's that, pet?" he
asked
softly.
"I've walked away from needing Buffy. . .to needing you," I whispered
into
his pale skin.