When I wake, it's still night. Sleepily I glance over at the clock beside his bed and the red numbers read 5:30. Outside, rain softly falls, hitting the glass of the window with a quiet plink plink, that makes me get up and walk over. It's slightly warm in here, and my skin reacts to the musky scent of sex and sweat, of Angel and I and frantic kisses on the kitchen table. Pressing my cheek to the pane, I watch the empty street with hollow eyes.

My nipples pucker faintly as they brush the cold window; my breath frosting against the glass in short puffs.

“What're you doing?”

The voice from the bed is drowsy, husky, and most of all… loving. My belly bottoms out as I turn and look back at him, his body so perfectly pale in the room drenched with strange rain shadows. He's so beautiful, it hurts. My thighs start to sting and I feel how swollen I am between them… how open for him. It seems I'll never be full, and the thought is frightening. Turning back to the window, I think of Mike at home, and wonder what exactly I'm doing.

“Watching the rain,” I whisper and gaze at the puddles forming in the gutters of the road. “Don't you like it?”

I feel his arms go around me suddenly and amaze at how graceful he is. How quiet. I didn't even hear him get up. His flesh is warm and his hands large against the flat expanse of my belly. His lips slide across my shoulder and neck in brief kisses as he murmurs, “I like you.”

My head drops back against his chest and I bring my hand up behind his head to twine my fingers through his hair. “You don't even know me anymore.”

He is silent for a moment and all I can hear is the rain, until he says very quietly, “I'll always know you Buffy. It doesn't matter how long we go without speaking, without seeing each other. All I would need is to catch a whisper of your voice, a breath of your scent… and it would all come rushing back.”

His words make me feel dizzy. Hazily, I feel myself twisting in his embrace and tilting my head back. “Angel… I don't understand… I don't understand this…”

He presses his lips to my forehead, then to my cheeks and mouth, his tongue caressing mine fleetingly before retreating as he sighs and I bury my face against his neck, his pulse throbbing into my lips. “I don't either,” he answers after a long while.

“Do you ever dream?” I ask him, and behind my eyelids it plays like a film without sound. Panther eyes and hot skies…

“About what?” he replies, his mouth against mine so I can feel the vibrations of his speech. Oh, Angel…

Tears fill my eyes so suddenly the burn comes as a shock. Why does the sky always weep when we're together? Why does his voice sound like a lullaby and why when he's inside me does the fire consume me and take away my breath?

Why when I'm with him do I feel like breathings not important… as long as he's there?

Pushing closer to him, I bring his head down and kiss him hungrily, my mouth hot and wet and sloppy, my hands grappling with his body and my own… struggling with my inability to get inside him… to be that close to him. He steadies me with fingers that feel like brands down my back and his tongue sweeps in between my teeth. Gasping for any shred of air, I breathe against his lips, sobbing, “I wish we could go back…”

“To what, love?” he inquires, his hands holding my face, which flames red with tears and anger and such an over-whelming sorrow.

“To when everything was… simple…” I moan, my stomach blossoming with pain. “To when I had a Mom and you and friends and a *life*… to when I was sixteen and innocent… don't you wish for those days back? Ever?”

He sighs and his thumbs rub the hollows of my cheekbones. “It… it was so long ago.”

“A thousand years ago…” I agree and sniffle, chilled suddenly. Touching the place where his heart beats, I press my face against it, and my tears slip down to his belly, salty on his skin.

~~~

It's so dark when I get home. My flesh hurts and I rub my neck, entering the bedroom with despair etching my features. Mike lies on his stomach, his arm flung out where I'm supposed to be, on the crisp white sheets. Shuddering with revulsion, I move to the seat by the window and lower my strained limbs down, so I can watch the rain.

Wondering if Angel is doing the same thing, I curl up in a ball, listening to the sounds of the outside world and wishing myself back in the sweatiness and sweet warmth of his bed… underneath his arm and leg, underneath his kisses and his eyes. I imagine I am where he is, and that's when I fall asleep, dreaming a dream that will not go away.

It's the desert and the sky frowns down on me with red teeth. My dress is silvery gold, flowing down my knees like quicksand, touching the ground with startling brilliance. I'm not human. But I'm not evil. No cold resides in my heart. It's sunlight… filled with the strength of a thousand years and a thousand more.

He comes towards me and I think how out of place his black eyes are and how he's the night and I'm the day and we're not supposed to be together.

“Light kills shadows,” I tell him softly, firmly and he inclines his head.

“I've come for you.”

“Don't come for me.”

“I already have, Byrony. They want you now.”

Scowling, I glare at him and turn away, shielding my tears from his knowing gaze. “I don't want to go. I've done nothing wrong.”

“Except love me,” he reminds me and his voice is a whisper in my ear.

I spin back and he's there- so close- too close. Staring at the place where his neck meets his shoulder, I remember the taste of his sweat and glance up. “That's not wrong.”

His expression is one of sadness. Of regret. “Nothing's wrong with love… it's who you choose to fall in love with, I suppose, Princess.”

“Don't call me that…” I growl and lean in, my mouth wet and yearning. “Don't be like the rest. You never were. You match my strength, Alesso. I told you that I'd never stop—“

“Stop what?” he snarls, his fury sudden and terrifying in it's bleakness. “Stop loving? You have, Byrony. The decision's been made for you… it's already-“

“Over?” I cry, and slap him with all the force in my slender arm. With equal speed, he yanks me close and his mouth touches my neck, his kiss hot, like a brand.

“We promised we'd never… say that word,” I remind him and look down. The sand is burning my toes, and between them are rising red welts, as if the sky is raining down the blood the clouds look swollen with. My planet is dying. I am dying.

He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingers with a devastating gentleness. “It's time for the kiss goodnight,” he whispers and I tilt my head.

“Will the sun go down?”

My love touches my belly with his hands and smiles. It's more painful than his anger and I feel the tears coming and coming, my sobs loud in the still desert.

Bending, he presses his lips to the swell of my stomach and his eyes are red with his own grief. “You are the sun,” he murmurs and my knees shaking, I reach down and capture his shoulders within my arms and hands, kissing him with all the hunger in my lips.

Without another word, he gets up and walks away, his body enshrouded in the shadow of the mountains that surround us. All is empty and silent, and I fall to the ground, my legs giving way.

They'll come for me soon.

Somewhere a child cries. For a moment I wonder if it's the one in my belly- somehow knowing what has happened. And then I realize it's me. Sobbing with childish wails, the keening of my screams too loud- too much, for even my own ears.

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