Inside You
by Little Pinky
It wasn't supposed to happen this way.
Not now.
It was too soon. All too soon. And now you don't have a clue what to do.
You think you are pathetic. Everybody else already seem to think so, so why
not you too? They come every single night, the other vampires, and they ruin
all your hard work.
It doesn't matter.
They haven't realized that it's no use - that you won't go away, that you'll
still be here the next night and fixing everything. You'll continue to watch
over him until you're dust blowing in the wind. And even then, you won't
ever let go of him. You're there to stay.
You're not really sure if they're laughing at you and calling you names, or
if they are disgusted by you. Maybe both. After all, it's been a long time
since a vampire fell in love with a human. Of course, the poof doesn't
count, because he is just fucked in the head...
The Watcher has to bring you blood every night. And you desperately wish you
could say that you don't really care, but you need blood, because you need
to survive.
If not, who would watch his grave? Who would make sure that the Slayer's
little helper gets to rest in peace?
And you realize that they never appreciated him. The Slayer and her little
Scooby Gang.
Sometimes, they pass you while out hunting for vampires, and they give these
small, sad shakes of their heads. As if to mock you, or worse - pity you.
But they've learned long ago that they can't move you. Because you have to
watch over Xander's grave.
Life is too short, you realize. Eternity isn't going to last forever, and
eventually, you too are going to die. Meet a stake somewhere and die. It
might happen in five hundred years, or it might happen already tonight.
But you don't fear death.
You fear what will happen when nobody is around to watch his grave.
Some nights, you can feel his presence. Even though you can't see him, can't
hear him, you know he's stayed behind, because that one night you shared
when he was still alive - that one night was enough. He knows you love him,
and you know that he loves you back, even in death.
The vampires have already been here tonight, and you're just straightening
the dirt around his headstone again, when you feel it. That prickling
sensation you can't really explain. The sensation that makes your hair stand
on edge and your throat close up.
And as you close your eyes, you can feel ghostly arms close around you. When
you open your eyes again, there's nothing but the cold marble headstone and
the sounds of the night, but you know he's there. It's enough to make your
eyelids drift closed again.
A soft breeze floating past your ear in a lover's whisper... A ghostly
caress down your chest, with a slight pause over your still heart... A warm
touch from non-existing lips on the side of your neck...
It is midnight.
He has arrived.
And you turn, eyes still closed, and tilts your head up to be kissed by the
warm air that is his presence beside you.
The ghostly hands slide down your body, and you feel tears spring up under
your closed eyelids, desperately wanting to be released, to slide down your
cheeks and drip off your chin into the soft grass. You don't let them,
though. You won't allow the pain to show on your face, because you know that
he can see straight into your heart. And you know that he shares that pain
with you.
Nobody really understands. It's okay.
The warm breeze increases as the invisible kisses continue to rain over your
face and neck, and you long to reach out and find that warm, human body in
front of you, heart thundering with passion. But you know that it's not
going to happen, so you enjoy what you can, and you are almost afraid to
move, afraid that you'll somehow make his presence go away.
The passion builds between you, the ghostly caress continues down to your
zipper, and you almost make a strangled noise in the back of your throat.
You're hard for him, and he knows it. He uses that knowledge, manipulating
you and playing you, knowing exactly where and what to touch.
When you bring up your hand to touch your cheek where the wind just placed a
warm kiss, your fingers come away wet, and you realize that somehow, the
tears that you fought so hard to keep hidden have managed to escape after
all.
You miss him so much. And you can't hold back the hiss that escape you as
the caress around your cock increases, even through your jeans.
The love your share is flowing through the air. You can feel him around you,
inside you and with you, despite your inability to see him or hear him.
This is all you have left, you realize. This ghostly presence, these...
meetings... that occurs on some nights. And with a strangled sob, you tumble
over the edge, head spinning and painful pleasure washing over you,
cleansing you.
This is all you have left.
And when you open your eyes, he's gone.
The wind has stilled. Slowly, you crawl to your feet, the sticky spot in
your pants not bothering you the least. For a moment, you just stand there,
smelling, hearing and seeing nothing but the night air. But then a soft
breeze flows by you again, and for just a moment, you allow yourself to
believe that you heard three, soft words whispered in your ear.
It's enough to make you last another night.
It have to be.
End.
