Chapter 43
February 7, 2006
How much can a man unravel before the world sees it? Can a storm be raging inside him that threatens to bring him and those around him to their knees and be virtually undetectable?
I am falling apart. I am a mess and no one can see it. Not my precious girl who tells me every day that she loves me and yet fails to see that I am in shreds inside.
It wasn’t that I had lied to her when I said I was going to be supportive of her moving out, finding a job and all that rot. I had felt positive at that point in time, felt I was doing the right thing.
Logically, I see it was the right thing to do, but I don’t feel it. I don’t want it, and yet today, I am helping her move into the apartment I helped pick out for her. I have sent her off to start a job that is not with me and every time she is so excited about her day and what she did, I feel it’s a punch to my gut. Will one day she tell me she doesn’t want me anymore? That she’s all set now and doesn’t need me anymore? Will it matter that I need her? Will it matter that she’s the only woman that has completely possessed me and that I’d turn to ash if she left me?
I want to make love to her so bad. I can’t fucking sleep in the same bed with her anymore without having to whack off in the morning. And so now I retreat to my room oftentimes to sleep, laying there feeling I want to roar to the heavens my frustration and fears, but not being able to.
God, I want to be inside her. She says there’s more to a relationship than sex and she is absolutely right, there is, but to me it’s a further expression of what I already feel for her, how I already love and cherish her and I want to show it to her. I want to be part of her, and the only way I can be physically part of her is by being inside her. Why won’t she let me in? What is it?
Now she’ll just be further away from me by moving out. And she’s so excited about it, so excited with her plans and how she’ll make me dinner when I come over, how we’ll watch movies on the couch she bought for herself and how we can ‘bless’ her new home by having Thanksgiving there this year.
I DON’T WANT THIS TO FUCKING HAPPEN!!
Standing the middle of Buffy’s cozy, but bare, cream colored kitchen, Spike watched Buffy place glasses in a cabinet, watched how her lean body stretched, how her shirt rode up over her flat stomach and how her breasts rose with her.
In his minds eye, he walked over to her, spun her around and kissed her breathless. She wound herself around him, tasting of honey and the coconut lip gloss she wore. He hoisted her up on the counter and slid her pants down her legs. When her pants and panties were gone, he’d kneel before her and lave her honey pot with his tongue, coaxing her to cum for him –
“Spike? Are you hungry? Do you want to order a pizza? I’ll pay since you helped me move and all.”
He blinked at her and nodded dumbly, going for his phone. He watched how she bent over to grab some more glasses, her perfect rear end facing him. This time he imagined taking her from behind, watching her ass ripple with each thrust into her body –
“Hello? Who’s there?” an annoyed pizza man demanded into the phone.
Clearing his throat, Spike placed the order quickly, and hung up. With a sigh, Spike raked a hand through his hair and headed for her living room. He sat down on her new blue and green plaid couch, feeling he needed to get the fantasies out of his head before he did something about them.
He surveyed her apartment, noting how nice it really was. Perfect for just her. Upon entering was a dining area that spilled into a brand new kitchen. Off the kitchen was the bathroom and around the corner from that was a hallway and down that hallway was the living room on the right and further down on the left was her bedroom. With the money she’d had tucked away, she’d managed to buy some furniture at a good price and have it delivered before she moved in. She had been a busy bee all right.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?” he answered tightly.
Poking her head in, Buffy came in and settled down next to him, twisting her body so that her back was against the arm of the couch and her legs rest in his lap. “How much is the pizza?”
“Twelve bucks.”
“Okay. You all right, hmmm? You seem a little tense.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you averse to flowers?”
“What?” his mind was not on this conversation. In his mind, he was now between her legs, pumping himself inside her wet heat, feeling her surround him, hearing her tell him that she loved him.
“I want to make you an arrangement of flowers as a thank you.”
“For what?” he asked, a little more abruptly than he intended.
She smiled warmly at him, “For being you.”
His heart warmed and his body ached. He loved her so damn much and wanted her so damn bad. Pulling her to him so that she was on his lap, he kissed her hungrily. “I love you so much,” he whispered huskily.
“Mmmm…I love you too.”
His hands itched to slide under her shirt, to feel the breasts that were pressed against him, to use his mouth and make her peaks hard and aching for him.
“I need to use the bathroom,” he said, his tone strained. All but dumping her on the couch, he strode off to the bathroom to whack off for the second time that day.
********
“Hey, Buffy, I was wondering…” Willow began the following day at work as she watched Buffy snap a digital photo of a recent arrangement.
“Yeah?” Buffy asked, looking over the photo she’d just taken.
“Would you care to have dinner with me tonight?”
Buffy looked up from the camera and stared at Willow. “You want me to have dinner with you?”
Willow frowned slightly. “Yeah, I mean, if you want to. You certainly don’t have to, but see a friend of mine was supposed to go out with me tonight and now he has a date and it’s my birthday and I–”
Buffy’s eyes bugged and her jaw dropped. “Your friend blew you off on your birthday?”
Willow sighed heavily. “Well, he’s been wanting to date this girl for a long time, in fact, he’s asked her out repeatedly and she’s always turned him down. This time, of course, she says yes. What kind of friend would I be if I told him not to go?”
“Yeah, but what kind of friend is he to bag on you on your birthday?”
“I’ve known him since I was two, so really, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Well, I am supposed to hang out with Spike – you know my stepfather?” Coward! “But let me call him and tell him I’ll see him after.”
“Buffy, I don’t want to tear you away from spending time with him–”
“Wills, really, it’s not a big deal. We’ll go out, have some dinner, maybe get a drink, and I’ll see him after, okay?”
Willow sighed and nodded. “You sure?” she asked sheepishly.
“I’m more than sure. Let me just call him quick okay?”
Willow smiled. “Sure, thanks Buffy.”
Smiling back, Buffy headed for the back room to make her call to Spike. Man, please let this go over well, she thought as the phone rang.
“Summers Gallery,” Spike answered on the second ring.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Buffy, my love, I was just thinking about you. Do you want pasta or Chinese tonight?”
Shit. This is going to be bad isn’t it? Am I doing a bad thing here? We see each other every night, I got an invite out and I want to go—is that wrong of me?
“Spike, um, can I see you after dinner?”
Silence, then, “What do you mean?”
“Um, Willow kind of asked me if I’d go out to dinner with her. It’s her birthday tonight and she got blown off.”
“You could invite her over with us,” Spike suggested hopefully.
“Spike, she doesn’t know you…”
“Then this is a good chance for her to get to know me.”
“Spike…can I just come over after I go out with Willow? I don’t have any girlfriends, I’ve never really had many at all actually and I really like her and she’s my boss and–”
“Go, Buffy.”
He didn’t sound right. He sounded angry, which was not what she wanted to make him feel. More than anything, Buffy hated it when he was angry with her. Course, she hated it when anyone was angry with her, it made her fear that they’d be so angry with her they’d leave her.
“I’ll come over after,” she started.
“No, it’ll be late.”
“I could just come over to sleep,” she said hopefully.
“No, I think you should go home after, Buffy,” he said firmly. “Go out with Willow. Have a good time.”
He hung up then before she could get a word in and Buffy welled up in tears. She couldn’t do anything right by him, could she? It wasn’t like I was blowing him off, I was trying to do both. I see him every night…can’t he see this is a good thing? Having friends is a big thing for me. I don’t have any at all right now! Giles and Angel were the only one outside of Spike that I’d talked to since my Mom died and in Boston I barely had any friends. Sure I had the revolving door of boyfriends, but no girlfriends. I need a girlfriend. Okay, I’m not going to feel guilty about this, I’m not. I’ll just go over after and see Spike anyway.
Trying to fight the building guilt, Buffy made her way out to inform Willow she’d be accompanying her for dinner that evening.
********
Around the corner in Summers Gallery, Spike resisted the urge to fling the phone against the wall. And so my losing her begins. This is what I get for trying to be fucking supportive and understanding.