Trepidation
It bothers me, more then I would like it too, to think that maybe she’s found another love. I just don’t want to think she could ever really move on, forget about us. I don’t want these small black letters to turn out to be more then a name, I don’t want them to be what I thought she needed.
I had my reasons, completely justifiable reasons for leaving her. But the small problem with those reasons is that, our lives don’t revolve around common sense. She knew this, I knew this, but I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t except that the only thing in her life will be death and darkness. She deserved, and still deserves, better. She deserves more then me and my demons, whether or not she wants better is something I can’t say. I won’t make decisions for her, it wasn’t a decision for her, it was my decision for myself, for my soul. I couldn’t be around her beauty and still be making amendments, because the joy I take in her presences isn’t fair to all the pained souls that haunt me.
I want to love her, I want to show her how much fun life can be. I know I can show her everything she will ever need, I don’t need to make love to her, to love her. It was just my excuse, one I hoped she’d believe, for my leaving. She can find everything she’ll ever need in me, but I didn’t want her to. I didn’t want her to be forced into loving something so weak as me, she had to know she had options, lots of options, many people that could offer her the same things I can. She was young and had so much to do, she needed to realize this.
Young, 20 years old, now. An ancient mind trapped in a youthful body, she’s as old as I in her experience and wisdom. She was born old, she had to be so she could die young. Willow tells me about her, about what her life is now. I don’t ask her to but she still does, she writes me almost every week and she says it’s because I need to know what I did to her by leaving. I can tell the years are finally showing. Little things, the way she takes her time now, no longer rushing into situations with just pure energy as her weapon. The way she seems more tired and less excitable.
Would it be ego-centrical of me to say that I’m what caused her sudden self awareness? I’ve discussed this with Cordelia, of all people I find a confidante in her, I like her bold approach, she doesn’t sugar coat what she has to say. Its Cordelia’s opinion that, she’s not suddenly noticing her age, it’s because I’ve made her older. I stopped asking Cordelia’s opinion on matters such as these, soon after that. Part of me knows it’s the truth, I took something with of her me when I left, I wouldn’t want to think it was her spirit.
Whatever I took, I want to return it. I’ve finally come to the realization that I can’t ever make up for my mistakes, with or without her, my crimes are too great. And as Cordelia pointed out, why should I ruin one more life? Did I say I liked her blunt approach? If so I take it back.
That’s why I’m here, waiting outside her new home, wanting to take away the pain I caused. Scared shit-less that she’s moved on and scared that she hasn’t. Ready to beg for forgiveness and ready to bolt at the first sign of it. Cause I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing. Who am I to think that she hasn’t moved on, despite what Cordelia says, and I’ll just be a burden instead of help?
I take my last breath of night air and ring the buzzer next to the names "Summers" and "Clark." The same name I have been staring at for the past 20 minutes. Willow told me she had a roommate, I just pray it’s not a guy, not someone she’s fallen in love with.
A strong feminine voice bellows through the speaker on the wall before me, "Hello?" Not her, too strong and edgy, instead of her soft voice. I breathe a sigh of relief that, unless I got the button wrong, she was definitely not living with a guy.
"Yeah. I’m here to see . . . " Her name is stuck in my throat, I can’t say it I can’t even think it. "I’m here to see your roommate."
"And my roommate would be who? First name please." This girl is smart, smater then most at least. She knows not to let in any guy, especially not someone who turns up in the middle of the night.
I take another deep breath, if I can just say it then I’ll be able to see her and that’s more frightening then saying her name. "Buffy Summers," I say quickly. "I’m an old friend."
She debates for a few moments and finally decides I’m not a danger, "All right, come on up."
A buzz is admitted from the door and the lock is released. I take my first step inside the building, one step closer to her. It’s not that nice of a place, obviously all the tenants are students. A pile of garbage is left beside the elevator and some young man stumbles down a hallway, satisfyingly intoxicated. No. 402. My hand is shaking as I press the button for the 4Th floor, it lights up but then dies out right after. The elevator arrives too soon, there’s too much I have to think over, I’m not ready. I entertain the thought of riding back down to the lobby and taking a few minutes to think. But then her roommate might be suspicious if I take too long and not let me in.
I take another breath as I knock on the door, I seem to be taking a lot of unneeded breaths today.
The door opens a crack and a head juts out. The girl eyes me suspiciously for a few moments, then stares at my pelvic area, before opening the door all the way. I obviously passed her test. A small woman, straight black hair that’s swept into a ponytail at the back of her head, dressed in an over sized grey shirt and black boxers. I don’t usually pay so much attention to people around me, but this girl is living with her so I’m strangely curious.
"Come on in. Buff isn’t here but you can wait with me if you want." Her tone is not suggestive, but inquisitive. I guess the only people from Buffy’s past that she’s met are Willow, Xander and Giles. If she’s still the same person I remember, then she probably hasn’t told her roommate anything about herself. She leads me into a room with a small couch, t.v. and stereo. Books, paper and clothes are piled high and she rushes to clear them a way to make room for us to sit. I’m suddenly struck by the normalcy of it all and I’m forced to rethink my decision to come.
"Thanks, I realize it’s late, but I just got here, I’ve been driving all night." I want to make friends with her, so she won’t be uncomfortable alone with me. Though somehow, I think she can take care of herself pretty well.
"And that’s why you’ve been standing outside for the past 30 minutes?" Smart girl, smarter then I thought. I didn’t know she could see me from her place. "I saw you pull up in that expensive car."
"Oh," I guess I’m no longer stealth guy, everyone seems to know I’m coming.
"So tell me, why’s a guy like you so hung up over Buffy? I can tell you like her, the way you say her name, it just I get some kind of vibe. No offence, it’s just that you could probably get whoever you want," I don’t take offence, because she doesn’t sound like she’s trying to be rude.
I’m about to answer when I realize I don’t even know her name. "Before I fill you in on my life story, how about we tell each other our names first?"
"Sorry, I’m Jessica. Sometimes my mouth runs before my brain." She giggles nervously and I joined her.
"I’m Angel." A look of understanding flashes across her face. I suppose she might have caught the tail end of a conversation concerning me.
"You’re the guy Buffy calls out for in her sleep," she blurts out. Her cheeks glow red with embarrassment. "I’m sorry, that was, um, I shouldn’t have said that, sorry."
"No, it’s OK. Don’t worry about it, I already knew." Willow told me this, making me promise never to let Buffy know, I knew. I just hope Jessica doesn’t tell her.
She plays with her fingers and relaxes slightly. "Oh, well. You want something to drink or to eat? Cause it’s no . . ."
The front door opens and closes with a sharp bang, cutting Jessica off mid-sentence. My body tingles with anticipation, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I’m seized with fear and excitement, wanting to go to her, but unable to move.
Her footsteps approach the living room and Jessica stands up and moves into the hallway.
"Jess, I didn’t realize you were still up. But I guess I would have woken you up anyway, the door’s so loud." Her voice is sweet and softer then I remembered. I shut my eyes, savouring the way it echoes through me. "What’s wrong?" That paralyses me again, this is wrong.
"Nothing," Jessica says quickly, too quickly. "Um . . . Someone came to see you," she whispers.
"Who? Is the person still here?" It’s time to make my entrance. I get up slowly and step into the hall behind Jessica.
Her eyes widen and her lips move in a silent word, my name. I don’t know what to say, I’ve suddenly forgotten why I’m even here, causing her more pain. I want to leave, I have to leave, it’s too much, too soon.
"Don’t go," she calls out. I hadn’t even moved, but she could sense my discomfort.
"I’m not," Jessica stares at us for a few moments, before mumbling an excuse and leaving quickly.
Buffy suddenly notices where we are and ducks her head in embarrassment. "I know it’s not that nice, not like your old place but . . ." She takes a pause and continues "Jessica is nice and the place usually looks a lot worse, so consider yourself lucky." She looks up at me and smiles lightly. "Do you want to talk? Somewhere less messy?"
"Sure," I’m nervous and excited at the prospect of being along with her. She leads the way, down the other direction of the hallway and stops before a door with a small cross on it. I back away, it’s small but it still burns. She notices my distress and covers it with her hand. She opens the door to reveal a small and densely furnished room, I can see it all even without the light on.
"It’s not much, it’s cramped and way to full, but I like it." She turns on the light and I notice the bedspread is mine. I like the thought that she sleeps in my sheets, it’s nice to know she still cares for me.
"I missed you," The words spring suddenly from my mouth and I wish I could shove them back in. She turns to me, eyes bright and warm, filling with tears. She looks beautiful, exactly the same. Willows right about seeming older, though. She moves differently, more weighed down.
"I missed you too." She sucks in a shuddering breath that breaks my heart and looks at me with a hard glare. "Why did you come? Because if you’re just going to leave after whatever you came for, I want you to forget it and leave now." Her walls are up, stronger then before.
"I’m sorry," Her eyes soften with my admission, "I’m sorry, but I did what I thought was good at the time." She stiffens.
"And now you want back into my life?" She’s suspicious and I can see anger heating up inside her.
"I want to start over."
"What if I’ve already moved on, what then?" Had she? Was this a lost battle, had I come for nothing?
"Then I’m sorry for interrupting and I’ll leave." My chest aches and a voice in my head screams at me for even considering leaving again.
"Do you really think I’ve moved on? Maybe you could, but I couldn’t." She’s angry, hostile even. I don’t know what to say, I can only throw it back at her.
"You thought I had moved on?" That hurts, to know she doubted my love for her. But she does have a right to, I wasn’t very good at showing it.
She doesn’t say anything for a while. Her eyes flash with hurt and she seems more fragile then before. "I hoped you hadn’t. I prayed every night that you still loved me, but LA is filled with girls and you wouldn’t have been happy completly so you could have . . . " She trails off, letting me figure out what she’s implying.
"Buffy, I went over 80 years without sex and I can go another 80 years. I only ever want to do it with you. But we can’t and I can live with that."
"I know, I know you can," she sits on the bed and stares at the floor with sudden interest in the carpet. "Why did you leave? Really, why? I could tell you were hoping I hadn’t found anyone, you didn’t really want me to move on. Why did you lie to me?"
I sit next to her and take her slim hand in mine, "I wanted you to know you had choices, that you could be someone on your own and I needed to make amends, but I knew I couldn’t do it with you making me happy by just being with me." That’s the truth, the real reason I left, because I’m a selfish fool.
"Did you?" She looks at me with big hopeful eyes that I can’t resist.
"As much as I can," I lie, I don’t really think I made any difference. "I want to be together. I want to make you happy." She nods and I wrap my arms around her. She leans on me with a heavy sigh and everything comes together. Our shattered hearts fuse into one and I know that I can never leave her again. I want to see her old and grey and I want her to die with a smile on her face because I made her happy.
The End