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snoggedTitle: A Feather Can’t Hold Up The World
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and co. own everything associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Rating: FRT/PG; references to character death, angst, hope
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Summary: Even the giant stack of dishes can’t distract her from the feeling of unbearable loneliness…
Setting: BTVS Season 7, prior to "The Killer In Me"
Word Count: 482
Beta: A massive thank you goes to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velvetwhip for understanding my brain almost better than I do.
Fragile, Vulnerable, Breakable…
The stem of the wine glass felt so impossible in her hands; filled with water incalculably heavier, it reminded her of a feather bearing the weight of the world. It was a literal metaphor that hit far too close to home, especially when she had to spend every second of the day wiping the tear stains off her cheeks or straightening her shoulders to hide the stoop from the weight of Tara’s death on her soul.
Even though months had passed, the seasons had changed, and the world still spun on its axis, Willow couldn’t escape from the ache that twisted in her stomach every time she was alone. She missed the warmth, the tingles, the curve of Tara’s lips right before the blonde would pull her into a tight embrace and a passionate kiss. Unfortunately, the giant stack of dishes from the Potential Slayers couldn’t even distract her from the feeling of unbearable loneliness.
“Willow.” The voice was soft, tentative, and masculine. It ghosted across her skin and raised the flesh on her neck. So much for thinking she was alone today.
“Spike,” Willow said, forcing her lips to twist into a cheerful expression. “We’ve got blood in the fridge.”
The heavy fall of his footsteps echoed loudly in her ears and she could tell he wasn’t headed for the fridge. He was headed for her. It didn’t take long before she could feel the pressure of his stomach against the small of her back, the brush of cool fingers against her shoulder. “Willow. You’re hurtin’, pet. Doesn’t take much to figure that out.”
“And what do you plan to do about it?” Willow whispered, mentally damning vampire senses to hell. What gave him the right to pick up on the fact that she was breaking inside instead of just reading the cover of the book like everyone else was? It’s not like they were best friends or anything.
“I’m gonna help you,” Spike replied, his lips so close to her earlobe. Almost too close. “But you need to let it go, Red.”
Willow looked down at the glass stem that was now clutched in her fist so hard that her knuckles were turning white. Spike’s hand covered hers and she felt the subtle urge to relax her fingers, to let the glass drop.
She did; the glass shattered before her eyes as it collided with the stainless steel sink. Tiny shards scattered over the remaining dishes, looking like crystals. She didn’t even have time to blink before Spike had turned her around to face him. Her eyes locked onto his icy blue ones and she felt her whole body shiver as his lips moved towards hers, capturing her mouth in a kiss that threatened to take her breath away.
Something inside her shattered just like the glass, but instead of destroying her, it finally set her free.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and co. own everything associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Rating: FRT/PG; references to character death, angst, hope
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Summary: Even the giant stack of dishes can’t distract her from the feeling of unbearable loneliness…
Setting: BTVS Season 7, prior to "The Killer In Me"
Word Count: 482
Beta: A massive thank you goes to
velvetwhip for understanding my brain almost better than I do.Fragile, Vulnerable, Breakable…
The stem of the wine glass felt so impossible in her hands; filled with water incalculably heavier, it reminded her of a feather bearing the weight of the world. It was a literal metaphor that hit far too close to home, especially when she had to spend every second of the day wiping the tear stains off her cheeks or straightening her shoulders to hide the stoop from the weight of Tara’s death on her soul.
Even though months had passed, the seasons had changed, and the world still spun on its axis, Willow couldn’t escape from the ache that twisted in her stomach every time she was alone. She missed the warmth, the tingles, the curve of Tara’s lips right before the blonde would pull her into a tight embrace and a passionate kiss. Unfortunately, the giant stack of dishes from the Potential Slayers couldn’t even distract her from the feeling of unbearable loneliness.
“Willow.” The voice was soft, tentative, and masculine. It ghosted across her skin and raised the flesh on her neck. So much for thinking she was alone today.
“Spike,” Willow said, forcing her lips to twist into a cheerful expression. “We’ve got blood in the fridge.”
The heavy fall of his footsteps echoed loudly in her ears and she could tell he wasn’t headed for the fridge. He was headed for her. It didn’t take long before she could feel the pressure of his stomach against the small of her back, the brush of cool fingers against her shoulder. “Willow. You’re hurtin’, pet. Doesn’t take much to figure that out.”
“And what do you plan to do about it?” Willow whispered, mentally damning vampire senses to hell. What gave him the right to pick up on the fact that she was breaking inside instead of just reading the cover of the book like everyone else was? It’s not like they were best friends or anything.
“I’m gonna help you,” Spike replied, his lips so close to her earlobe. Almost too close. “But you need to let it go, Red.”
Willow looked down at the glass stem that was now clutched in her fist so hard that her knuckles were turning white. Spike’s hand covered hers and she felt the subtle urge to relax her fingers, to let the glass drop.
She did; the glass shattered before her eyes as it collided with the stainless steel sink. Tiny shards scattered over the remaining dishes, looking like crystals. She didn’t even have time to blink before Spike had turned her around to face him. Her eyes locked onto his icy blue ones and she felt her whole body shiver as his lips moved towards hers, capturing her mouth in a kiss that threatened to take her breath away.
Something inside her shattered just like the glass, but instead of destroying her, it finally set her free.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2009-03-19 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 08:44 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 10:59 pm (UTC)I'm glad the metaphor worked
And I'm also happy that I got the imagery right. I actually lost one of my wine glasses today after a similar situation and this is what came from it.
no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:08 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:01 pm (UTC)*snuggles*
no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:03 pm (UTC)*snuggles*
Oh and don't be surprised if you get boy smut to beta around the start of next week. I'm hoping to have my DBW challenge finished by then.
no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-19 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-20 09:01 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-20 04:56 pm (UTC)Thanks for thinking this little snapshot could be a series.
I'm not sure if it will but I'm thrilled you think it has that much potential
no subject
on 2009-03-22 10:53 pm (UTC)Great honey! Really great!
xxxx
no subject
on 2009-03-23 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-23 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-23 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-24 06:27 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-25 04:48 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-24 06:35 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-25 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-04-26 03:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-04-26 11:20 pm (UTC)I appreciate that :)