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NO!!!!!!!!
But it was well written
But it was well written
Posted: 22:29 Apr 05 2002 Remembrance.
Spoilers: None...
Content Rating: U
Type: Other
Characters: Angel
Summary: The vampire with a soul pays one last visit to the one he loves.
Content Rating: U
Type: Other
Characters: Angel
Summary: The vampire with a soul pays one last visit to the one he loves.
At this hour of the night the cemetery was deserted. Of human activity anyway. The unlocked gate squeaked in mild protest as he pushed it open. Silence greeted him and he lifted his head slightly as a chill breeze whipped around his body, teasing at the opening of his ankle length black duster coat. He barely felt it. He looked up into the midnight blue sky, there wasn't a cloud in sight, the moon hanging like a huge silver coin, lighting the way ahead of him.
He cut across the grass, automatically dodging past ornate marble gravestones and plain markers alike. He'd visited so often, he didn't need any directions at all.
Then he stopped. He was here. For a moment he just stated at the plain white marble gravestone. He crouched down and read the name inscribed into its perfect smoothness. Then he reached out and gently touched the cold stone. His fingertips traced every indentation and groove of that name.
He lowered his hand and brushed away the decaying collection of autumnal leaves that had been blown there. Then he lay down his remembrance- half a dozen deep red roses, their thorny stems wrapped in white tissue paper. He lay them down in front of her name and for a moment, he couldn't move. He didn't think he could. He felt his throat close up and briefly he bent his head at the prickling he flet at the backs of his eyes. Would this grief ever go away?. Would his pain ever lessen?.
He took a deep breath and slowly stood up. She had been gone for five years now and still the pain of losing her cut deep into his psyche. He lifted his face to the sky, again feeling the chill breeze brush his skin, feeling tears slip silently down his cheeks.
He was here quite a lot, a lone figureby the gravestone. This was his time with her. Sometimes he just sat on the grass and listened to the sounds of the night, sometimes he talked. Tonight he wanted the silence. Embraced it.
She had been the biggest thing ever to happen to him in his Godforsaken life. She had, for a while, seen past the demon within him and saw the man. Then it had gone all so horribly wrong. The monster within him had surged brutally forwards at the one time of true happiness for him and he'd come so perilously close to destroying her, of destroying himself. And again she had saved him.
Then he had failed her. She was gone because of him, slain by a vampire that she was sworn to destroy by destiny. He'd felt her life slip away as he'd held her in his arms, saw her eyes roll up into her head and her limbs slacken, felt her heart stop. No-one had been able to save hr, despite his pleas. He hadn't been able to let go of her, and he'd knelt in the grass of Sunnydale park and wept.
Now he was leaving. Moving to Los Angeles, to see what was there for him. He looked down at the gravestone, reached out again and touched her name, asi f that alone would give him strength.
"Goodbye Buffy" he whispered.
He turned and walked away.
He cut across the grass, automatically dodging past ornate marble gravestones and plain markers alike. He'd visited so often, he didn't need any directions at all.
Then he stopped. He was here. For a moment he just stated at the plain white marble gravestone. He crouched down and read the name inscribed into its perfect smoothness. Then he reached out and gently touched the cold stone. His fingertips traced every indentation and groove of that name.
He lowered his hand and brushed away the decaying collection of autumnal leaves that had been blown there. Then he lay down his remembrance- half a dozen deep red roses, their thorny stems wrapped in white tissue paper. He lay them down in front of her name and for a moment, he couldn't move. He didn't think he could. He felt his throat close up and briefly he bent his head at the prickling he flet at the backs of his eyes. Would this grief ever go away?. Would his pain ever lessen?.
He took a deep breath and slowly stood up. She had been gone for five years now and still the pain of losing her cut deep into his psyche. He lifted his face to the sky, again feeling the chill breeze brush his skin, feeling tears slip silently down his cheeks.
He was here quite a lot, a lone figureby the gravestone. This was his time with her. Sometimes he just sat on the grass and listened to the sounds of the night, sometimes he talked. Tonight he wanted the silence. Embraced it.
She had been the biggest thing ever to happen to him in his Godforsaken life. She had, for a while, seen past the demon within him and saw the man. Then it had gone all so horribly wrong. The monster within him had surged brutally forwards at the one time of true happiness for him and he'd come so perilously close to destroying her, of destroying himself. And again she had saved him.
Then he had failed her. She was gone because of him, slain by a vampire that she was sworn to destroy by destiny. He'd felt her life slip away as he'd held her in his arms, saw her eyes roll up into her head and her limbs slacken, felt her heart stop. No-one had been able to save hr, despite his pleas. He hadn't been able to let go of her, and he'd knelt in the grass of Sunnydale park and wept.
Now he was leaving. Moving to Los Angeles, to see what was there for him. He looked down at the gravestone, reached out again and touched her name, asi f that alone would give him strength.
"Goodbye Buffy" he whispered.
He turned and walked away.
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