Angel and Buffy, post series, 279 words. Originally posted November 1st, 2007.

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Blonde hair and tanned limbs, she still so seemingly small. Her face is thinner than when he fell in love with her the first time, but the smile’s still the same. White teeth and a sunny grin, so much different than anyone I’d met before. Her strength hit me right in the chest, a woman who always held her own. Stubborn like someone else I know.

She smells like old memories. Grief and sugar candies a sweet and sharp tang on my tounge as she walks into the room. Always in high heels and sure steps, grace and strength like the predator she is. Watching me to see how much I’ve changed, how much taint is still coating me. I’ll never measure up to her, but like I said she’s stubborn and sometimes ignores what’s best for her.

I’m not. I never will be. But God do I want to.

Her skin so warm, a brief touch across my hand and it’s on fire. The memory sinks in and burns it’s mark. I’ll go back to it later, in the dark, her scent taking me back to when things were less complicated. When I allow myself to think of the what if’s.

She scolds me, for keeping secrets, for sliding closer to Angelus and making plans in his taste. I won’t say I don’t regret the Black Thorn, but there was no other way.

Regrets are plentiful, like stones in my already full coffin, but the world is here. So is Connor. So is she. My priorities may not always be correct, but these are the things I’ll never regret. Hell and deals with the devil be damned.

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