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slashthedrabble Jul. 12th, 2007 10:43 pm)
shinodabear.livejournal.com posting in slashthedrabble Jul. 12th, 2007 10:43 pm)Closing Wounds
Fandom: Angel, Season 5
Rating: PG
Pairing: Spike/Angel (just a bit more than pre-slash)
Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon, unless you want me to be, then I guess I can’t really stop you.
Opportunity. It has a window. Time gets one of his own, too. Offices have the kind lost nobodies-that-were-once-somebodies stare out of all day long. Airplanes have the little tiny ones that mean absolutely nothing to those seeking comfort in the pieces of puffy white clouds that show through. Souls have windows, too. That old cliché names them as the eyes.
That soul you couldn’t save, the one that tried to save you, its reflected in his sick, fading shades of brown. You imagine your blues look the same to him. This explains why neither of you are looking at each other.
His “soul” is hovering over your hand, and you know what he’s thinking.
You’re eyeing his lips, curled up with worry and disappointment, thinking pretty much the same thing.
It’ll save you. The ‘you’ in this case refers to both of you, the two of you. Sonny and Cher. Butch and Sundance. Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what your are: a duo. You and him. Spike and Angel. Just like old times. Like things always were. Spike (William) and Angel (Angelus).
It’ll save you (Spike and Angel) like you couldn’t save her.
You wait anxiously for the plane to land.
Fandom: Angel, Season 5
Rating: PG
Pairing: Spike/Angel (just a bit more than pre-slash)
Disclaimer: I am not Joss Whedon, unless you want me to be, then I guess I can’t really stop you.
Opportunity. It has a window. Time gets one of his own, too. Offices have the kind lost nobodies-that-were-once-somebodies stare out of all day long. Airplanes have the little tiny ones that mean absolutely nothing to those seeking comfort in the pieces of puffy white clouds that show through. Souls have windows, too. That old cliché names them as the eyes.
That soul you couldn’t save, the one that tried to save you, its reflected in his sick, fading shades of brown. You imagine your blues look the same to him. This explains why neither of you are looking at each other.
His “soul” is hovering over your hand, and you know what he’s thinking.
You’re eyeing his lips, curled up with worry and disappointment, thinking pretty much the same thing.
It’ll save you. The ‘you’ in this case refers to both of you, the two of you. Sonny and Cher. Butch and Sundance. Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what your are: a duo. You and him. Spike and Angel. Just like old times. Like things always were. Spike (William) and Angel (Angelus).
It’ll save you (Spike and Angel) like you couldn’t save her.
You wait anxiously for the plane to land.
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I love it when you post at STD because we get a little longer fic from you... longer, at least than what you treat us with at
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I really enjoyed this.
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*Wipes away a tear...*
*hugs*
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