Comfort
by Red
Comfort
[reviews]
Comfort
By Red
Joss folk.
W/C - R
Summary: After Buffy dies, Willow comes to tell the LA gang and finds comfort in the arms of a friend.
A NOTE: This started as a W/Cor story, cause' I hadn't done one and a pal wanted one...however, the B/W whore that I am...ask around, it is true, I could simply not leave it that way.
THIS IS A B/W story. Patience my friends...enjoy the insanity.
It's the end of the world. In her eyes, I see it... the end of her world. She loved her. Yeah, she's with someone and I'm sure she loves her. But her heart always belonged to Buffy. Even I knew that. And now, Buffy's gone. And Willow's eyes reflect the greatest pain I have ever seen.
I want to cry...cry for Buffy, cry for Xander and cry for Giles and Dawn. I want to cry for Angel and myself. But mostly, I want to cry for her...for the tiny, silent, redhead sitting across from me, her face stone, her eyes, numb. Mostly, I want to cry for Willow.
Suddenly, I remember every mean thing I ever said or did to her. Suddenly, I want to burn every Sears down. Suddenly, I see the little girl sitting at parent day, all alone at her desk, because her parents were too busy to come.
I want to help her. I need to make her feel better. I ache to comfort her. Those sad eyes, the pain dripping from them...I have to take it away. If just for one night, one hour, I have to. I've never wanted anything more in all my life.
I move from the chair to the bed and reach out, my fingertips caressing her face. She doesn't look at me odd. She doesn't ask me what I'm doing. She just lets me. I stroke her cheek, feeling the smoothness of her skin. She's warm. I look at her closely and see the dark circles under her usually bright, emerald eyes. I bet she hasn't eaten since that day. I know she hasn't slept.
I take my free hand and gently trail it through her hair. It's soft, shiny, the only happy thing on her...the only Willow thing. She smells like vanilla and I remember that was Buffy's favorite. I feel a tear start but force it back. I want to cry, but I can't. I have to be strong for her. She needs strong. She needs me.
Her eyes find mine and I see something I never would have thought I would see in those green eyes. I see defeat. I see hopelessness. I see death. And, for the first time since she arrived, I see tears. They fall gracefully, carefully, as if they don't want her to know they are there. Maybe she doesn't know they are. But I do. I see them, feel them and they tear my heart apart.
My finger catches one and tenderly wipes it away. She leans into my touch and I welcome her. She's letting me comfort her and we both need it. I put both of my hands on her face and look her in the eye. There is so much I want to say...so much I need to say...but I don't. The look in her eyes tells me she understands. And that is all that needs to be said.
Leaning in, I brush my lips lightly over hers. I fear she will pull back, change her mind. But she doesn't. Her lips meet mine and years of badness and pain and wrong doing all melt away. There is only now, this moment, this time and we both know it. And we both want it.
We part and look at each other. She has done this before. She knows what to do. Yet it is I who moves first. My hands move to her, taking her arms and pushing her carefully back onto the bed. Carefully, because this is Willow.
And this is comfort.
She falls back, her smart head resting on a pair of pillows, her eyes never leaving mine. I move next to her, my hand slipping under her shirt, caressing the smooth flesh of her tummy. She's so soft. I always admired her perfect skin.
My nails drag slowly across her, moving to the soft, cotton bra. They dance over the material, making light circles. She moans, barely audible but I hear it. And I love it. It means for one, split second, she wasn't thinking about death.
I continue making circles as I lean closer to her, my lips placing a trail of easy kisses down her neck. I hear her gasp and it makes me want to hear her scream. Not in pain, but in pleasure. I find a nice spot and begin sucking tenderly, my mouth savoring her sweetness.
And she is sweet. I always knew she would be. What else could she possibly be? She's Willow.
Her breathing is a bit faster, I notice, so I nibble ever so lightly. Another moan, this one louder, escapes from her lips and I move to catch it, putting my mouth to hers. We share a dance...a slow, easy dance, our tongues embracing.
My hand moves down her stomach, over the burgundy skirt and then under. She is so soft. My fingers waist no time in finding what they are looking for. They graze the warmth, caressing the dampness. And she moans again...into my mouth...and I feel myself get wet.
I break the kiss, we need air, and look down at her. Death is out of her eyes. Pain is no longer at the surface. They have been replaced by something else...maybe hope...possibly light...definitely need. My own eyes mirror them and I know she sees and I know she understands. This is comfort.
Keeping my eyes on hers, I slip a finger into the wetness and see the spark that flickers, the desire that appears. I like it. I move my finger slowly, in and out, adding a second and then, a third. And the most beautiful noises come out of her mouth. And I want more.
I pump slowly, taking my time at what is a first for me. My eyes never leaving hers, I make love to her. Yeah, that's what I'm doing. I am making love to Willow. And heaven help me, I love it. I love the sounds she's making and I love the feel of her, the heat, the way her muscles clamp down around my hand, the river that's covering my sheets. I love all of it.
I think I may even love her.
Her breathing is now panting, her eyes no longer open but closed tightly, her body trembling. She's close. I bet she's even more beautiful when she cums. I quicken the pumping, intensify the thrusts and soon her eyes open, roll back in her head and she screams my name...
My name...
Not Buffy's...not Tara's... mine.
Mine.
I pull my fingers slowly, carefully, from her and lean down, kissing her tenderly. I love her lips, so soft. She looks at me and her eyes, they smile. And I know I love her.
I bring my fingers to my mouth. I have to know. I have to. Putting them to my lips, I taste her. I knew it. She's sweet everywhere. She watches as I clean my fingers and I swear, I see a flash of her vampire twin in her eyes. And I like it.
I lie back on the bed and pull her into my arms. She nuzzles against my chest. I'm holding her, stroking her beautiful hair, her body against mine. And I know, this is more than comfort.