By Samantha Gold
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"Hey Irish! So, um, what happened? Did I get the address wrong or something? Oh well, I guess it doesnít matterÖ Have you ever done something when you were in the moment, feeling really angry, and then felt bad afterwards? Well, that happened to me last night. While I was waiting for you, my ex showed up. I guess you could say that I didnít exactly act Ďmaturely.í I really feel bad about how I actedÖwhat should I do? -Claddagh" *Buffy in voice-over*
Angel read the message and sighed. Maybe he had been a little rash. He decided to give it another try. She sounded sincere and he knew that Buffy didnít like lying. He replied, typing his answer carefully, then sending it.
"Iím really sorry, something came up and I couldnít be there. Iím sure he knows that you didnít mean everything that you said. Next time, just make a point not to explode and itíll probably go better. If youíre not to mad, Iíd like to continue chatting with you." *Angel in voice-over*
Buffy read the message and nodded. Okay, so he hadnít mentioned meeting again, but he still wanted to chat with her and that was good, right? She replied.
"Thatís okay, these things happen, right? Iíll try to remember your advice, though Iím not sure that he knows how I feel. He tends to take things personallyÖIím not mad and Iíd like to continue chatting with you. I will talk to you later. Bye!" *Buffy in voice-over*
Angel smiled and replied, then went for a walk.
Few days later,
Buffy wiped her nose miserably, before tossing it into the overflowing garbage. The room was a complete and total mess with towels, tissue boxes and other medicinal needs strewn about. There was a knock at the door.
"Who id dit?" She sniffled.
"Buffy, itís me!" Angel answered.
She opened the door. "Donít come in, I sick you donít wand do see me like dis," she groaned.
"Come on, Buffy," Angel pleaded. "I just want to help. Invite me in."
She let out a sigh, which was followed by a sneeze. "Come ind," she told him, then burst into a coughing fit.
Angel stepped over the threshold, into her place. "You poor thing," he murmured sympathetically.
She rubbed her eyes, walking into her kitchen. Angel followed her. He put down the paper bag he was carrying on the table.
"What id dis?" She asked.
He pulled out the pot inside. "Soup," he told her simply.
"You maíe me, soup?" She asked curiously. "How did you know I was sick?"
"UmÖ" She glared at him through puffy eyes. "Willow told me. You called her, right? Well I phoned her afterwards and she told me."
"Vhy did you call Villow?" Buffy asked suspiciously.
"Donít talk, sweet. Save your energy, you need to eat," he told her gently as he put the soup on the stove and began warming it up.
Buffy just shook her head. Something wasn't right here... She was too stuffed up and miserable with sickness to care though, so she went along with it. She knew she should be embarrassed, with him seeing her like that, but he was also the same guy who had seen her covered in monster slime more than once...it wasn't so bad, when put comparatively like that.
She opened her mouth to the spoon of soup he held to her, and he spoon-fed her the entire bowl. "Dank you," she said when it was done, and he smiled. She closed her eyes drowsily and before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
Angel looked upon her sleeping form tenderly, brushing a few strands of golden hair from her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Feel better, love..."