Jaded
Cold broken Hallelujah
Hi, This is my first Buffy fanfic. It's a short piece with an unusual pairing that I just cant seem to find written anywhere, so consequenty I had to write it myself! I hope you like it, I'd appreciate any comments you have. Thanks,
~Jaded x
He wondered if he had ever seen anyone so beautiful before in the whole of his existence. He wracked his brain but the women he came up with, women whose origins crossed continents, religions and ethics, all seemed to be like strands of candyfloss floating in the air, sugary and insubstantial. She was different, dark and intense, the sort of beauty you could contemplate for a lifetime or more and never be sated.
Dusky pink lips were offset by creamy white skin and black lustrous hair. But it was her eyes that drew him in, although black they seemed to dance with sparks from some internal fire. And she was so slender she looked like she would snap in two quite easily, in his mind he could hear the sound her spine would make as it broke, like deadwood snapping, a dull crunch and then the spark would die from her eyes. She was fortunate she didn't know him in his killing days.
He trailed her home moving silently from shadow to shadow, almost one himself. He took out any vampire that dared go near her, if she noticed the scuffles; she didn't turn her head"¦wise woman. Before she closed her door on the night and its creatures she sent a wry smiling glance towards her invisible protector. He wondered if she knew who he was.
He heard Buffy make some adorably cute comment and he smiled fondly at her. He was sure if he bit her she would taste like a chocolate chip cookie, he'd had one once eons ago when he'd been terrorising Belgium, he was always one to try things once. She made some sort of twitchy gesture, a habitual one of hers, in his mind he had a whole directory of her silly little movements she made. Sometimes when he was alone he would take them out and suffocate himself in their sweetness. She was another candyfloss obsession of his.
He wondered idly what she would taste of, he was acutely aware of her black eyes smouldering from the corner of the library where she sat; how he'd love to see those eyes not just smoulder but burn, ignite with passion for him. She would taste of a million subtle flavours, maturity, laughter and mystery. Like mulled wine, yes that was it, warm and rich, but with a spice to it. Of course he was no longer the killing kind, but he'd still like to savour her blood, just a drop.
That fool of a watcher, Giles, he could see how the man's eyes followed her, he wanted her, but he would only spoil her with his inexpert attentions. She was not something he could put in the pages of a book, she needed to really live, she deserved to fly amongst the stars and be shown to the world like an exquisite jewel. How it pained him to see the man's clumsy caresses, she needed someone who could take her to the highest peaks of bliss, someone like him.
Tonight she seemed to tease him with veiled glances that laughed at their friends' blindness. They weren't able to see the connection between them, although how they missed it he wasn't sure "“ he couldn't turn his eyes away from her, she filled his vision and his mind. He knew this was it, the crescendo, tonight they would lay their souls bare to one another "“ he would worship her and she would see who he was, exactly who he was. All those deaths would be written on his skin for her to read, she would read and accept where Buffy closed her eyes and denied.
He leaned his hand on the wall over her, the bricks rough under his fingers as he knew she would be soft.
"No more games Jenny." He growled.
She glanced up into his eyes a small smile playing on her lips and the sparks dancing in her eyes caused his to catch fire. He let out a shuddering breath, his self control was slipping, but hers remained as she walked away.
"Lead me then Angel." She said, her voice was like a black silk scarf and it tied itself tightly around his neck constraining the breaths he would never take.
He took her hand, her elegant fingers laced in his. She wasn't stupid, she wouldn't invite him into her home "“ she knew too much of his past for that. Her lips felt like velvety rose petals against his and he finally got to taste her as he became so caught up in his passion that he kissed her hard enough to split her lip. Mulled wine, spice and seductive smoothness rolled over his tongue. Blood, her blood. She smiled up at him and he understood the blood was her tantalising gift to him. He sucked the second flawless bead of crimson that formed and as he internally writhed with the perfect ecstasy of it she walked further into his apartment. She now led and when she turned back to beckon him, her eyes ignited and caught fire, passion for him feeling the flames.
~Jaded x
He wondered if he had ever seen anyone so beautiful before in the whole of his existence. He wracked his brain but the women he came up with, women whose origins crossed continents, religions and ethics, all seemed to be like strands of candyfloss floating in the air, sugary and insubstantial. She was different, dark and intense, the sort of beauty you could contemplate for a lifetime or more and never be sated.
Dusky pink lips were offset by creamy white skin and black lustrous hair. But it was her eyes that drew him in, although black they seemed to dance with sparks from some internal fire. And she was so slender she looked like she would snap in two quite easily, in his mind he could hear the sound her spine would make as it broke, like deadwood snapping, a dull crunch and then the spark would die from her eyes. She was fortunate she didn't know him in his killing days.
He trailed her home moving silently from shadow to shadow, almost one himself. He took out any vampire that dared go near her, if she noticed the scuffles; she didn't turn her head"¦wise woman. Before she closed her door on the night and its creatures she sent a wry smiling glance towards her invisible protector. He wondered if she knew who he was.
~
He heard Buffy make some adorably cute comment and he smiled fondly at her. He was sure if he bit her she would taste like a chocolate chip cookie, he'd had one once eons ago when he'd been terrorising Belgium, he was always one to try things once. She made some sort of twitchy gesture, a habitual one of hers, in his mind he had a whole directory of her silly little movements she made. Sometimes when he was alone he would take them out and suffocate himself in their sweetness. She was another candyfloss obsession of his.
He wondered idly what she would taste of, he was acutely aware of her black eyes smouldering from the corner of the library where she sat; how he'd love to see those eyes not just smoulder but burn, ignite with passion for him. She would taste of a million subtle flavours, maturity, laughter and mystery. Like mulled wine, yes that was it, warm and rich, but with a spice to it. Of course he was no longer the killing kind, but he'd still like to savour her blood, just a drop.
That fool of a watcher, Giles, he could see how the man's eyes followed her, he wanted her, but he would only spoil her with his inexpert attentions. She was not something he could put in the pages of a book, she needed to really live, she deserved to fly amongst the stars and be shown to the world like an exquisite jewel. How it pained him to see the man's clumsy caresses, she needed someone who could take her to the highest peaks of bliss, someone like him.
Tonight she seemed to tease him with veiled glances that laughed at their friends' blindness. They weren't able to see the connection between them, although how they missed it he wasn't sure "“ he couldn't turn his eyes away from her, she filled his vision and his mind. He knew this was it, the crescendo, tonight they would lay their souls bare to one another "“ he would worship her and she would see who he was, exactly who he was. All those deaths would be written on his skin for her to read, she would read and accept where Buffy closed her eyes and denied.
He leaned his hand on the wall over her, the bricks rough under his fingers as he knew she would be soft.
"No more games Jenny." He growled.
She glanced up into his eyes a small smile playing on her lips and the sparks dancing in her eyes caused his to catch fire. He let out a shuddering breath, his self control was slipping, but hers remained as she walked away.
"Lead me then Angel." She said, her voice was like a black silk scarf and it tied itself tightly around his neck constraining the breaths he would never take.
He took her hand, her elegant fingers laced in his. She wasn't stupid, she wouldn't invite him into her home "“ she knew too much of his past for that. Her lips felt like velvety rose petals against his and he finally got to taste her as he became so caught up in his passion that he kissed her hard enough to split her lip. Mulled wine, spice and seductive smoothness rolled over his tongue. Blood, her blood. She smiled up at him and he understood the blood was her tantalising gift to him. He sucked the second flawless bead of crimson that formed and as he internally writhed with the perfect ecstasy of it she walked further into his apartment. She now led and when she turned back to beckon him, her eyes ignited and caught fire, passion for him feeling the flames.
'Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief.'
~The End~
