ARTIST/ALBUM: The Police/Regatta de Blanc
AUTHOR: Zo.
EMIL: zoso37ba@yahoo.com
WEB PAGE: http://www.warriorsandlovers.com/
PAIRING: B/A
RATING: PG-13 with sexual references
DISCLAIMER: Not mine all characters belong to the almighty Joss.
TIMELINE: After Becoming II, the summer in LA.
SUMMARY: Buffy thinks of Angel.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Want to hear the song click here…
http://www.sunnydaleradio.com/
******
It’s been one month; 4 agonizing weeks; 30 days since I killed my soul mate. The pain that entered my body at that precise moment when my sword entered his stomach has not lessened. The guilt and sorrow have not faded if anything it feels as if it has consumed me; the blackness that is slowly seeping into my soul carrying the heavy burden of knowing what I have done.
I had to leave I couldn’t stay there; there were too many memories. Every graveyard I passed held a bittersweet memory of my love, every time I would look out my window I would expect him to be there watching over me. But he wasn’t and never will be again.
Nobody understands they all just look at me with condemnation in their eyes, like I finally had the balls to do what should have been done months ago. There is no pity for me, no support given in my time of mourning; only relief that it was finally over. There is sadness for others who lost their loved ones but not me. Their looks for me are filled with “it’s your fault” or “if it wasn’t for you and your passion this never would have happened to begin with. “
Well that might be, so maybe we should have delved deeper into his curse before we went any further. But how could we deny what we both felt? You can’t deny a passion that you feel deep within your soul, a passion so strong that it pulls you closer and closer to the inferno that threatens to erupt if you don’t sooth it with a touch, a whisper, a gentle caress. Those deep feelings and longings they will never understand and that is why I had to leave.
So now I’m walking back to the dingy little apartment I rented when I first arrived in LA. I got a lame job as a waitress at some hole in the wall diner. It’s ok at least it puts money in my pocket and pays for the crappy, leaking roof over my head.
But the best part of it is, that there is no one here to look at me with shame and disappointment in their eyes. No one here knows who I am and I want to keep it like that.
**
It’s night now, the sky is dark there is no moon to light the way; its as bleak outside as it is in my soul.
I’m perched in my window looking out at the stars dreading the night that’s too come and the nightmares that come with it.
There is no way to describe the nightmares that fill my head when I close my eyes; (“close your eyes”); the image of the demon that wears my lover’s face taunting me with his cruel words.
He makes me watch over and over again at the hurt and confused look in my lover’s eyes when I gut him with my sword. He makes me listen over and over again to his screams of agony has the demons of hell torture him with visions of his demon raping and mutilating my body, the body he once worshipped so lovingly. But although the nightmares are bad it’s the dreams that follow them that slice through my heart.
There’s a song coming out of the bar across the street. It’s an old song I remember my dad used to play it all the time. I never thought much about it; it never touched me like it does now.
Bed's too big without you
Cold wind blows right thru my open door
I can't sleep with your memory
Dreaming dreams of what used to be
When she left I was cold inside
That look on my face was just pride
No regrets no love no tears
Living on my own was the least of my fears
Bed's too big without you
The bed's too big without you
The bed's too big
Without you
Since that day when you'd gone
Just had to carry on
I get thru day but late at night
Made love to my pillow but it didn't feel right
Every day, just the same
Old rules for the same old game
All I gained was heartache
All I made was one mistake
Now the bed's too big without you
The bed's too big without you
The bed's too big
Without you
The bass reverberates through my entire being. Every word hits my heart like a bucket of ice. God I miss him.
His touch so hot yet cold at the same time; gentle yet rough and possessive. I can still feel his hands on my breasts; squeezing them as his tongue makes slow circles all around them. The pressure in my rock hard nipples; waiting for him to take them into his mouth and love them gently, roughly.
His sweet deep voice in my ear; telling me how much he loves me and of all the erotic things that he wants to do to my body.
His hands so full of strength and power, could easily rip off the head of a demon, yet they are sure and gentle slowly moving up legs. Touching me everywhere. He stops at my knee and places wet soft kisses on the back of it slowly licking his way to the core of my heat; the spot that needs his attention the most.
I never thought I would crave a man’s touch like I do his. It seems to be an integral part of myself. Something my body needs to survive.
And now that touch is gone, my skin feels like it has worms crawling under it. It’s agitated and itchy, there is no more soothing balm, he is gone.
My dreams are filled with longing, whispered words of love, strong arms holding me close and cool breath in my ear.
No…these bittersweet dreams are worse then any nightmare could be. These dreams of what was and can never be again.
I can’t sleep with the memory I just can’t.
It’s too much; it’s taken too much from me.
Empty places inside; blackness spiraling deep down only to settle in the pit of my being and suffocate me with its violent motion.
So here I will sit and wait for the sun to rise, to chase those dreams and nightmares away.
I pray it comes soon, because I can’t sleep with the demons in my head.
My body is tired and needs to rest…but I can’t sleep…
because the beds too big without you.
The End
