FIC: WILLOW THOUGHTS (a very short short..1/1)

[Red Willow <nick_elodian@xxxxxxxxx>]

hey there, just wanted to post this little thing i wrote this moring... nothing to do with STILL
STRUGGLING as i'm working on that and will maybe have something to you guys next weekish. Enjoy.
RW


I
Title: Willow Thoughts
Author: Red Willow
Email: nick_elodian@xxxxxxxxx or st8sboroblues@xxxxxxxxx
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and all them other peeps.. just
borrowing so don't sue.
Pairing: W/T/B sort of...
Rating: PG

Lies dance from my tongue as I continue to weave fantasy and magic around my lover.
Those beautiful blue eyes and melodic voice cant ever know the truth Ive been hiding for years
now. We connect in ways Ive never felt before. The energy that surges through my body when we
touch sparks in me fires that burn even hours after we part. After Oz, its all so wonderful&
<except for> yeah, except that I dont love her.
I turn from the door and look at her sleeping form, lazily outstretched on the bed weve
shared so many times before. Creamy, bare skin glistening in the flicker of the candlelight. A
dark red sheet twisted between soft thighs and wrapped around her waist, where moments ago I
kissed and touched, smoothing out worries and burning away her shy sighs until only heavy pants
and cries of pleasure held me to her. She sleeps now, unaware that Ive left her side once again.
She will ask why I didnt stay with her. This has become our routine now. I will sigh and make
up an excuse. This is the way our nights go. It is the only way I Know.
There is passion here. And power of course, yes. We come together, practicing magic.
Connecting energy through fingertips and chanting in low steady rhythms that bring our minds
together, then our bodies, our lips, and our needs. But whats left is not love. Not the kind
that has burned and consumed me for years now. What I have here will never be like that. I close
my eyes and steady myself against the door, fighting the urge to cry away the guilt that also
plagues me. Tara has become a distraction from the longing to touch my best friend deep into the
night after nursing her battle scars.
I clear my mind and smile weakly as I take one last look at my lovers sleeping body before
closing the door quietly. I am not supposed to feel like this.
My sexuality is not the problem though. When I found passion with Tara, I accepted it.
Telling Buffy was not a thrill believe me <I believe you, she only freaked, well slightly&> Yes,
but she seemed so upset when I told her about Tara. I know she is probably getting over it.
Knowing Im gay now <like you ever werent? ahem.. excuse me&> must already be hard for her to
cope with. Telling her Im in love with her, have been for over 3 years now& No, thats a whole
other story.
Back in my own dorm room now I go to her bed and run my finger along the soft fabric of her
comforter and pillow before sitting down. <What I wouldnt give to be welcome in this bed.> I take
her pillow in my arms, pressing my face into the cool comfort, and inhale deeply. Her soap and
shampoo, her body& I do this a lot now. Stealing glimpses into her private space in order to
have one quiet moment closer to her. I sigh heavily and put down the pillow.
Guilt wracks my body again as I think about what Ive shared with Tara only to come home to do
this. <You are one sick puppy Rosenberg.> I cant help it though. I cant help but feel like Im
going to explode when I think about Buffy. Ive watched her train and fight demons in the night,
admiring the fluidity of her muscled movements. She has saved my life more than once and I will
never be out of her debt. I take her into my arms and comfort her whenever she needs me. It
hurts me to the bone when she is in pain. The closeness of her body, her skin and hair create in
me a new awareness of the ecstasy begging to be reached with her though and I am pained even more
because I know it will never come. I cant resist her though. I wake from dreams about her with
movement in my hips and moans caught unreleased in my throat. Unreleased, thats me.
Ill never tell her. Never let a word slip out. This is my dark pain to deal with that,
maybe in time, will subside and let me love another. Until then I retire to my bed night after
night with the afterglow of time spent with a woman I dont love, only to dream about a woman who
will never love me.


=====
"What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound
anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that
as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like
beautiful music"
-Soren Kierkegaard

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