F A N F I C T I O N > M I S C . F A N D O M S
Undeserving by Amberina
She hates the way he looks at her. He looks at her and he feels sorry for her. Well fuck him. He wasn't there to stop it, was he? He wasn't there to stop Willow. He wasn't there. So fuck him.
"Angel - " she begins, not sure what to say. She wants to tell him everything, to let him know what happened. "When I was there - it - "
"I understand," he says, "hell is rough experience even for the strong."
She wants to scream at him, tell him that she's wasn't in hell - how could he even think that? Instead she cries.
"Buffy, please don't cry - " he moves swiftly, wrapping his arms around her. "I understand."
She pushes him away, harder than she intended, and his body hits against the hard wooden table sitting in the middle of the room.
"You don't understand," she says softly, tears welling up in her eyes. "You don't understand," more firmly now.
He watches her intently.
"You - don't even - " she drawls in a deep breath and wills herself to calm down " - you don't even get it. I wasn't in hell, Angel. I was - "
The look on his face is priceless. "Buffy - "
"*Don't* say you're sorry, Angel."
He's stricken and Buffy almost feels bad for snapping at him. Almost. The silence hangs between them, and the intense look in his eyes is getting to her. "I can't do this," she says in a barely audible whimper.
It's obvious Angel doesn't know what to say.
Silence again, thick as blood. "So - " she clears her throat and doesn't want to say the words on the tip of her tongue " - I guess that's it."
"No," he says firmly, standing up. "That's not it." He walks closer to her and she should move away, just turn around and get the fuck out of there, but she's frozen in place.
"Then what? What else is there to say?"
"I could say I know - but I don't. Buffy, you're alive - "
She diverts her gaze. If he only knew what she felt inside. If he only knew how close she was to -
" - that's what matters."
She shakes her head faintly as his body moves ever so closer. A tear falls down her face gently, and his hand is there to wipe it away.
"Angel - " she begins softly, but she is cut off by his lips on hers.
There's that moment when they look at each other - where the pain, the anger, the anguish disappears so familiarly and for that moment she forgets and kisses him again, tears falling down her cheeks as he says hushed, "Buffy - "
She shakes her head. "Don't," is all she says before she kisses him again, and he pulls her close.
The heat between their bodies is almost unbearable - though it must be all from her, it feels like it's coming from him too - his lips on hers, hands grasping, and this so isn't right but - nothing is. Buffy's not sure how his shirt got off, or hers for that matter, she was lost in the moment, lost in getting lost.
And then his hands were all over her, all at once harsh and gentle, driving her insane. "We can't," her mind whispers while her body screams, "Now."
His hands - it's just his hands, on her. His hands, his goddamn hands on her, and oh if they're going to do this, they're going to do it right.
She pushes him back, and he doesn't know what to think, that's clear from the shock on his face. His back hits the table, and she grinds her hips into him, feeling him grow hard.
"Fuck me," she says softly.
He shakes his head, trying to gently push her away.
"Fuck me." More insistent now.
"No."
Buffy shakes her head, disgusted. "Why do you always have to take the moral route? Why can't you just fuck me? Why?" She moves back and around him, sitting on the table. She tries hard not to cry.
Angel turns to her, and his hands loop around her waist. "I can't." And there's that look again. Pity.
"Angel?"
He looks at her intently, his face serious.
"Fuck off."
Angel nods, his head down, before turning back to Buffy. "What do you want, Buffy? What do you expect from me?"
Buffy shakes her head, and doesn't look at him. She can't look at him. Not right now. "It would be really great if I knew, wouldn't it?" She cries. She cries way too much lately. She looks at the wall. He can't . . . see her cry anymore.
His hand falls on her back, and it's far too gentle. She cringes. This can't - he can't touch her like that.
"Please. Don't." So soft, she's not even sure she said it out loud. Her eyes close automatically as his hand moves around her body, gently guiding her back. Her bare back falls against the table and she allows more tears to fall. This is wrong, too soft, she doesn't deserve this.
And his lips trail kisses down her stomach, and she feels as though her heart is going to explode. Too many emotions, and her brain - it's useless now. The tears, they won't stop. She can't stop anything. Life, death, emotions, sex, what does it matter anymore? It's just Angel, and he's pulling her panties down and why the fuck can't she force herself to stop him?
She doesn't want - she does want but she can't - and his hands run down her thighs, and he's so appreciative, with light, teasing touches, and she wants him inside her. But no. Instead it's his mouth on her, and she's going to come but she doesn't want to come, not like this. It's far too loving.
When she comes, she wants it to be painful, and she wants to leave scratches down his back, and yeah she's twisted. Life's twisted, and fuck. She wants him to stop. Stop before she comes and it's soft and glowing and oh so romantic.
She can't take it.
And she does come, and it is romantic, and it's everything she doesn't want, doesn't need, can't handle right now. It's perfect, and she hates it. She hates him. She has to.
"I wish I could make you understand," she cries as he slides up her body.
"Help me understand."
"I can't," she says. And she can't. She really, truly can't.
"Try?" he asks softly, helping her up, oh so considerate, it's sickening.
She shakes her head, and gathers her clothes. She has to get the fuck out of there. She can't - she has to go, and she tells him as much, her eyes never looking directly at him.
If she did look at him, she would see how shattered he looked, how sad. And she'd hate him more. So it's for the best.
As she leaves, one thought crosses her mind. Heaven. Angel is heaven. And she obviously doesn't deserve that.