Rating:Umm I don't know Pg I guess nothing really bad.
Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss Whedon against my dreams and wishes to own the gods that are Spike and Angel
Spoilers: Umm Season 6 and earlier I guess
Pairing: W/S
Summary: Willow's POV Her reactions to her actions at the Season 6 finale
Feedback: Please send feedback
Authors Note: This is my first fic and something I was just jotting down that pertained to emotions. Please just let me know your reactions. Ok so here we go.
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I am wrapped in a blanket of dark.
Unseeing, unmoving, unknowing.
The world outside is noisy as I sit in this state of sleeplessness and dreaming. I begin to wake as noises rise, as beats become harsher and faster...... screams are louder, sharper.
I rise. The blanket slips and I am bombarded by knowledge. I draw my knees to my chest in hopes that I can hide. My head lowers. I now sit curled trying to hide from this painful knowledge of what I have done and the thoughts of what's to come. I rock back and forth like a child seeking comfort.
I feel a pressure on my shoulder slowing my movement. It is a hand I find as a thumb begins to rub back and forth creating a sensation to spread from that focused spot to my blood that flows to my entire body. The hand emits a warmth from within to my overheated flesh but the flesh of the hand is an icy cold that soothes me and my entire body. A body is behind me moving swiftly as I feel the air displace with the movement. Then all is still as the movement of the body stops and the air settles. All there is now is the movement of that thumb, running in circles on the blade of my shoulder. The thumb then stills and the hand slips down my back stroking hair and pushing down the blanket as it runs its fiery ice path down my back. The hand stops its descent at the small of my back and once again the thumb begins its circles into my skin soothing my pained soul. I feel the air part again as another pressure is placed in my hair and then sweeping motion is made as my hair moves to the front of my body. Curls tumbling forward. My back is now bare to the gaze of the body. The hand in my hair moves across my shoulder blades and down my side as the hand at my back moves across to the opposite side and around the front. I am now embraced simply held as arms wind their strength around me. I feel a pulling force as I lay back into a body of sculpted alabaster skin that glows in the magical moonlight. I still have not laid my eyes on the creature that soothes yet brings me to edge. I lay back fully feeling the body behind. I glance upwards into a beautiful face of a man with blue eyes that held just a mix of light and dark, warmth and coldness.
I am held mesmerized by those eyes never to be let free.
Never feeling the darkness wrap around me only no longer alone never alone.
For as I am wrapped in this darkness no longer unknowing and oblivious to all else but myself. I feel every infliction of pain that is caused by what I have wrought. I feel stabs and gashes and burns. No longer wrapped in a comforting dark. No, no longer, it is a blanket of dark fire and glowing death. Yet I do not endure alone. I do not sit upon this fiery pain of death done. No I have a slight comfort in it all. I have that detraction that soothing motion and warmth mixed with the cold. It soothes this pain and lights it as it goes. I have been given life and death in one setting of light and dark, in one placement of love and hate, of eternal life and death.
The End