F A N F I C T I O N > B U F F Y V E R S E
Dip (I Let Go) by Amberina
In his dreams, he can touch her. In his dreams, and only in his dreams, he can dip into her -- and explore her. He can violate her and humiliate her. He can love her and cherish her. But only in his dreams.
She smells like roses and sugarcane. He all at once wants to break her and protect her. He all at once loves and hates everything she does, everything she represents, but she always fascinates him. Always.
When he closes his eyes, he can feel her twist underneath him. Twisting and writhing, unlike a good girl. A good girl stays still. A good girl doesn't squirm like that. But Cordelia - no, Cordelia is not a good girl.She is not innocent (and yet she is, oh so innocent, waiting and ready to be corrupted), and she is not sweet and that is why he loves and hates and wants her so badly he can taste it.
She's a contradiction, his savior, and his downfall all in one. She's everything he needs, and everything he wants (he wants to hear her whimper in pleasure and pain -- there's a fine line, you know), she's everything.
Angel breathes in and out, in and out, as if he needs to breathe. He breathes to keep himself from doing something, from doing anything. If he focuses on the breath, he won't focus on her standing in front of him,tight pants and wavy hair -- roses and sugarcane.
"Angel," she says, her full lips forming the word, forming his name.She lets it roll off her tongue with a gentle yet seductive breath, and it drops into the depths of God only knows what. It drops into the darkness.Into the endless blackness of his world.
He answers calmly, so calmly, his voice even. He can't let her know these things that go on in his mind. She can't know. She can't.
Cordelia -- she looks at him as if he has two heads and leans down to him. Oh, she leans down, and there's a big stretch of nothing but skin,skin, skin from her jaw to her shoulders and she has to realize -- but she can't know.
"Are you okay, Angel?" she asks him, and does she know? She couldn't possibly know. She can't - he cannot let her know. Her voice is soft, a little worried, and he wants her to just go away so he doesn't give away what's in his heartmindsoul and make her go away forever.
And it that instant she looks so fragile. Thin glass, with a crack down the center and Angel doesn't want to break her (but then again isn't that all he wants?) and he's frozen for a moment. A moment in time, all there ever really is, and it's never enough, yet he has all the time in the world.
What is he trying to do? What's he trying to accomplish with this?
"I'm. I'm fine," he assures her quickly. Too quickly. That look, she sees through him, she always sees through him. It's her talent, her gift,and he wants her to stop. He wishes she was just the shallow bitch she was before. He wishes she wasn't his everything.
Angel gets up, he gets up and he starts to walk away. Just -- get away.Yeah he just needs to get away from her right now. Before he says or does something they'll both regret.
"Angel, it's Valentine's Day, so I was thinking of having a little party here," Cordelia says, following him. "I mean, our lives could use a little brightening up. Good music, lots of pink and red, those candy hearts with funny sayings -- "
"No. No, Cordelia. We're not having a party." His own voice comes out harsher than he means it to. He can't do anything about that, though, so he doesn't even try.
"Well, uh -- "
He walks into the lobby, and there are people everywhere. Too many people,it's far too crowded. The music, it's so loud, it pounds in his ears, through his body, almost as if it's a false heartbeat and it wants it to stop.Why didn't he notice the music before? Why didn't he notice. Oh, this isn't-- he can't handle this right now. "They have to go."
"Angel, please -- let them stay." Cordelia gives him this look, this pout, and he wants her (he wants her dead).
"No. No." Angel shakes his head, trying desperately not to focus on her, on her throat, on the blood pumping there. Oh, so enticing. The beat,the false beat, oh it makes him feel sick and he has to get out of there,away from that room, and away from Cordelia.
Cordelia follows. Why can't she just leave him be? That's all he wants right now, all he wants (except to see her broken and bleeding underneath him).
"Angel, come on, what's wrong with you? You seem -- okay, a lot like yourself, but -- it's Valentine's Day, and I just wanted to have a little fun." Cordelia smiles at him, obviously waiting for his reaction. When he doesn't give her one she rolls her eyes and pulls a candy heart out of the bag she's holding. "Here, have a candy heart." A big grin as she holds it out to him like it's some apple of temptation.
Angel scans the pastel letters printed on the tiny candy she holds in her fingertips. "I Love You."
And time slows down. The room spins around him and the only thing clear are those words, on that goddamn candy heart. Cordelia steps forward, towards him and his brain shorts out. What is she doing?
He has to stop her, stop himself. This is nothing -- nothing good could come of this. The false beat still flows through his body but he can't hear anything, he can't even hear the words that are coming out of Cordelia's mouth right in front of him.
"Touch me. Oh, Angel, please, I need you. Just touch me," floats through the air, and it's Cordelia's voice, but it does not match the way her mouth is moving. It's disembodied and he wants it to stop.
"Touch me."
He wants nothing more (but then, he wants it all), but he can't. She must understand that he can't -- oh, he doesn't want to break her. But his hand, oh it finds its own way along her body, and he can't do this-- he can't let himself do this to her. But he cannot stop either.
"Please, Angel, yes."
Her voice -- it's not her voice, yet it is, and he's so confused, so completely confused. And his hand is traveling up her thigh and under her skirt, and he wants her so badly he can taste it (he can already taste her) but no. No. This can't happen.
She takes a deep breath, her chest rising oh-so slowly, and then falling (oh he's falling) and she falls down down down (away from him) and all he can hear is the clattering of the candy hearts as they fall (oh, everyone's falling) to the floor.
"Touch me," she whispers, and finally, it is coming out of her mouth.The words match the movement and that's one thing to be grateful for. Everything goes so slowly as her eyes flutter closed -- and she looks so peaceful and innocent. So wrong, oh he was so wrong.
"Cordelia," he says softly, his voice coming out warped, and twisted,and then suddenly his teeth are piercing her skin and he doesn't know how he got here, how he let this happen, but oh, it's so sweet. Roses and sugarcane,and bleeding (candy) hearts and he can't stop.
Oh, no he can't stop.
Angel, he tried, no one can say he didn't try, but he knew -- he knew this wasn't far from happening. He knew since the first moment she moved her way into his life. He knew, and he tried, but now he lets go.
Kissing the life into something that's already died, Angel lets go (he's been drowning forever). The blood flow slows down, oh it slows like the world slowed around him -- and he knows, just like he knew this would happen, that this is not the end. Oh, it never ends.
Cordelia begins to twist and writhe under him, broken and bloody, and she's as dead as his heart, but she's always been one to swim against the flow of the tide. Her eyes open, and they are yellow and emotionless as she forces him to flip over, so she's straddling him.
"Touch me," she says with a grin, her fangs shining between her beautiful lips and she's still roses and sugarcane to him. She always will be, even if she's broken and bloody. And she is broken -- he broke her. He finally broke her.
His hand falls on her thigh, still as soft and inviting (she's still everything), and she smiles, and her smile is off. Oh, this isn't the bright and shiny perfect smile he loved and hated, no this isn't it at all.
His hand grips her rear end underneath her skirt and she moans -- no, she doesn't moan. She growls. He doesn't seen what's going on until the stake is breaking the skin on his chest.
Angel jerks awake as Cordelia pokes him in the ribs. "Wake up, buddy.It's Valentine's Day, and if you think I'm letting you sleep through it-- "
"Cordelia."
"Are you okay, Angel?" she asks him, her forehead creasing slightly in worry, and does she know? Does she know he will be the end of everything that is good and pure about her? She couldn't possibly know. Her voice is soft, a little worried, and he wants her to just go away so he doesn't give away what's in his heartmindsoul and make her go away forever.
And it that instant she looks so fragile. Thin glass, with a crack down the center and Angel doesn't want to break her (but then again isn't that all he wants?) and he's frozen for a moment. A moment in time, all there ever really is, and it's never enough, yet he has all the time in the world.
What is he trying to do? What's he trying to accomplish with this?
"I'm. I'm fine," he assures her quickly. Too quickly. That look, she sees through him, she always sees through him. It's her talent, her gift,and he wants her to stop. He wishes she was just the shallow bitch she was before. He wishes she wasn't his everything.
Angel gets up, he gets up and he starts to walk away. Just -- get away.Yeah he just needs to get away from her right now. Before he says or does something they'll both regret.
"Angel, it's Valentine's Day, so I was thinking of having a little party here," Cordelia says, following him. "I mean, our lives could use a little brightening up. Good music, lots of pink and red, those candy hearts with funny sayings -- "
"No. No, Cordelia. We're not having a party." His own voice comes than he means it to. He can't do anything about that, though, so he doesn't even try.
"Well, uh -- "
He walks into the lobby, and there are people everywhere. Too many people,it's far too crowded. The music, it's so loud, it pounds in his ears, through his body, almost as if it's a false heartbeat and it wants it to stop.Why didn't he notice the music before? Why didn't he notice. Oh, this isn't-- he can't handle this right now.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers and she doesn't hear him, not over the music.She can't hear a thing.
In his dreams, he can touch her. In his dreams, and only in his dreams,he can dip into her -- explore her. He can violate her and humiliate her.He can love her and cherish her. But only in his dreams. When these things cross over into real life -- when these things take ahold of him and happen before he can stop them . . .
She smells like roses and sugarcane and he all at once wants to break her and protect her. He all at once loves and hates everything she does,everything she represents, but she always fascinates him. Always.
Angel lets go.