This Year's Love
I've never wanted something so much.
It happened a few nights ago. We were the only people out on the streets with a heartbeat and we were giggling about some guys at the Bronze who kept buying us drinks. I told her it was because of her little scrap of a tank top and she said it was because my tattoo kept peeking out of my low-rise jeans.
I'm not a poet and I don't speak perfect like most of the folks in Sunnydale. But her eyes were twinkling and she just looked at me with something in her gaze I've never seen before. Well, I've seen it before, but it was always shot at Angel and never at me. Then her little hands were twirling in my hair and it was a kiss like I've never had before. It wasn't some asshole shoving their tongue in my mouth, grabbing at my tits, and drooling. It was delicate and as much as I wanted to throw her down on the pavement and fuck her till the cops came, kissing seemed like more fun.
She looks at me sometimes, and I feel things in me that I never knew existed. They cut through me and poke at my soft stuff till I ache from not touching her. She'll smile and I'll smile back, and I remember how things were before I got the call. Before Daddy left because Mom was a whore, before Mom OD'd because her new boyfriends weren't as good as Daddy, and before the last person I loved died because I was too weak to stop the evil things from hurting her.
She'll never tell me how she feels, and I'll never tell her. We'll hold hands in the graveyard, we'll kiss underneath streetlights, and she'll follow me into my hotel room. She'll look into my eyes right as the world is exploding around me and I'll want to cry.
Something inside me tells me that I'm not allowed to love. I've used up my chances and hurt too many people. She's so sick of being hurt. Something inside me tells me that we will just hurt each other and that nothing between us will ever be perfect. But I want to love her anyway. Life is good but it also sucks and I want to be allowed to feel the good and the bad.
She doesn't look at Angel as much anymore, and Red has her white cotton panties in a twist because I've stolen her fantasy girl. Things are perfect. Well, not quite perfect, but as close to perfect as I will ever get. We roam the night together, we have fun, and I get to kiss the prettiest blonde I have ever laid eyes on.
I'm scared when I'm with her. I'm still the same old screw up that dropped out of high school, and I'm still the same delinquent who scared all the kids in juvie. She's still the perfect little girl who might've gotten in more trouble then me, but is still crystal clear and snow-white to most people. It won't last and I know it won't last. Nothing really lasts for me and I've been through too much shit to start hoping now.
I'm her mistake waiting to happen. I'm the one who she will look back on and cringe. I think when Angel and her find some nookie loophole, they will cuddle in bed together and laugh at me. I'm not good enough for her and I know that. She will leave me eventually, but it's okay. I'm ready for her to dump me. I wish things could be different.
When the night is over and I finally fall asleep around one in the afternoon, I see B. She's much older, but she's one of those old women who still look really hot with gray hair. She's all alone and crying at my grave. I know that B will never die in the line of fire, she's too perfect for that. But Giles is right, I'm way too clumsy and way too into it. In my dreams, B places flowers on my grave and whispers, "I love you and I will always love you."
I hope I don't make her hate me.