OLDER [1/1]
The dim autumn light bathes her small figure as
she stumbles along. Hands
are forced haphazardly into pockets that are much
too big and don't keep the
cold away. Her fingers pinch and squeeze as if
to enforce this fact and when
she reaches in and out of reality and her head
comes above the ever-rising
water, she plunges them further into the fleece,
blocking their escape.
Around her the wind continues to howl painfully
as it sweeps past, heading
for the almost sepia stained leaves that are as
damp as the escaped tendrils
of hair that frame her face. She squints her eyes
against its sharpness as
the leaves dance around her in a whirlwind formation.
Mocking their freedom
even through their obvious dying age.
A hand reaches out from the confines of her pocket
and brushes the tendrils
of hair behind reddening ears before she coughs.
The cough is raspy and is
out of place from the woman who appears to still
have her youth and health.
Eyes alight and cheeks with the glow that only
comes from autumn days. The
only visible age is that of the wrinkles that
are starting to form
around the green eyes that glimmer from the depths
of knowing-too-much.
Plunging further on, the leaves soon fall back
to the ground as the wind
soars through the almost bare trees that surround
her. Her eyes follow the
scene being created before the familiar sensation
in her stomach starts to
build up, and she swallows the bile that threatens
to rise from its murky
depths. Rather like the memories that are poking
at her mind that has stayed
so silent in this journey. They prick against
her eyes that have just fought
off the wind and pull back angrily at the sockets.
But she holds them back with a willpower that feels rare to her these days.
Too rare.
But her feet carry her along and soon the pressure's at bursting point
...and she stops.
A sob is bitten back as her eyes run over the gravestones
in front of her.
Neat marble lines and grass blades that don't
dare to be out of place.
Fingers are now allowed out and gently play with
the ridges of the stones as
she blinks away the tears that still threaten
to break down the fragile dam.
The gentle song of the birds shake her out of
her silence that has failed to
consumed her.
Glancing around the cemetery, she marvels at the
stillness that the late
afternoon has brought with it, hiding away the
evils of the night that have
yet to raise their heads and howl.
The drift between them is strongest at this point.
Memories begin to envelop
her like a cocoon, her life floating by as she
tries to think of the good
times. Her face scrunches up as she concentrates,
but soon flattens out on
to a tainted canvas as she seemingly gives up.
Faces and memories flash in front of glazed eyes
taking her off to places
past when all was well, fine and dandy. A voice
tickles against her ear.
Breath warm and brushing against too-sensitive
skin. It spreads as it covers
her body causing hairs to stand on end and the
world to spin. The breath
moves away as a 12 year old Xander runs away from
her only stopping to grin
lopsidedly and yell at her to hurry up. She feels
the corners of her mouth
tug to provide a grin back and the words to roll
out of her mouth as she
scolds him.
Grabbing hold of her hand, he pulls her after him
and soon they're dancing.
Lights held up from the ceiling and focusing harshly
as his face is still
lightened in front of her. But the expression
is the same. A playing grin
that tells her she's his best friend, the only
person in the world he'll
ever be able to do anything and everything with.
But she's not who he wants
but who he needs.
...Needing. Wanting.
Like the need of the Hellmouth, the need of being
needed to save the world.
To act out her childhood dreams as she helps save
the day and get the guy...
or girl. At the end of the day to go home to someone
who asks you about your
day, snuggles up with you as you watch old-reruns
of long forgotten shows
and reminisce about the old times and the good
times. Because at the end of
the day that's all you have.
Memories.
She can still remember the pause in Buffy's voice,
actions, tone. As she
waited patiently for Willow's acceptance and a
simple "yes". Yes you can sit
with me, yes you can be a part of my life, share
my world, be there when
Christmas cards are sent out and old friends are
remembered for mere
moments, and feelings are forgotten as they're
kept in some part of yourself
that doesn't want to remember.
But to have opportunity is the greatest gift of all.
The opportunity of happy ever afters. No matter
how far away they seem
because everyone deserves a happy ever after and
a taste of i'll never
forget *forever*. Purely forever. Forever in tones
that are coated with lies
and hurt and painful sensations that begin in
your stomach and take over
your heart. In icy patterns of jagged lines and
blunting tips.
Not in battles that never end, demons, vampires
and the evils that hide
under your bed.
And her eyes roll back into her head as she remembers
fully, dams forgotten
as they flood forward and she moves around blindly,
seeing nothing but the
memories.
**I'd bite you in a heartbeat.**
"I-I love you..." She whispered to it, the wind
carrying her words off to
another place.
Goodbyes can't be said with tongues that weep and
crack up under pressure,
causing you to stutter and blush.
Wrapping her coat more firmly around her, she wandered
out of the cemetery
as the tears began to fall as she wept for what
couldn't be.