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slashthedrabble Oct. 2nd, 2008 10:41 pm)
shinodabear.livejournal.com posting in slashthedrabble Oct. 2nd, 2008 10:41 pm)Unanswered
Fandom: Angel, pre-series
Rating: PG
Pairing: Angel/Spike, established (Angelus/William)
Disclaimer: It has been a while, I’ll admit, but I do remember that these boys belong to Joss.
I.
When you look at me, who do you see? Do you see the hair you think of as “radioactive”? Do you see the leather you complain reeks of cigarettes and cheap barrooms? Do you see that scar the Slayer gave me? Does it take you back? Does the hair break free of its neat combed state, and curl about my forehead? Does the leather give way to wrinkled linen? Do you look straight through me and see the boy you once called your own? Do you even realize that I am no longer that boy, that I am someone else?
II.
Why do you insist on pressing and pushing and hounding and raving and poking and prodding and sneering and belittling me? Why do you have to put up a fight? Do you still see me as that overbearing, crude soulless being? Can you not look past what I was, who we were, and what we are now? Do you not discriminate between them and us? Or is that why you are fighting, at every day, at every hour? Do you fight for the change, or do you fight the ghost of the past that is surely reflected in my face?
III.
“Do you always have to sulk?”
“Do you always have to be obnoxious?”
“What’s the matter now, Grumpy Pants?”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why’d you leave last night?”
“What? Disappointed you didn’t get morning cuddles, Princess?”
“Could you stop with the names?”
“Could you stop being such a ponce?”
“Why are you like this?”
“What other way can I be? What way do you want me to be, hm? You should really ask yourself: Why are you always like this?”
“Why do you think?”
“Why do you think?”
(Why do our questions go unanswered?)
Fandom: Angel, pre-series
Rating: PG
Pairing: Angel/Spike, established (Angelus/William)
Disclaimer: It has been a while, I’ll admit, but I do remember that these boys belong to Joss.
I.
When you look at me, who do you see? Do you see the hair you think of as “radioactive”? Do you see the leather you complain reeks of cigarettes and cheap barrooms? Do you see that scar the Slayer gave me? Does it take you back? Does the hair break free of its neat combed state, and curl about my forehead? Does the leather give way to wrinkled linen? Do you look straight through me and see the boy you once called your own? Do you even realize that I am no longer that boy, that I am someone else?
II.
Why do you insist on pressing and pushing and hounding and raving and poking and prodding and sneering and belittling me? Why do you have to put up a fight? Do you still see me as that overbearing, crude soulless being? Can you not look past what I was, who we were, and what we are now? Do you not discriminate between them and us? Or is that why you are fighting, at every day, at every hour? Do you fight for the change, or do you fight the ghost of the past that is surely reflected in my face?
III.
“Do you always have to sulk?”
“Do you always have to be obnoxious?”
“What’s the matter now, Grumpy Pants?”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why’d you leave last night?”
“What? Disappointed you didn’t get morning cuddles, Princess?”
“Could you stop with the names?”
“Could you stop being such a ponce?”
“Why are you like this?”
“What other way can I be? What way do you want me to be, hm? You should really ask yourself: Why are you always like this?”
“Why do you think?”
“Why do you think?”
(Why do our questions go unanswered?)
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*Cries*
Thank you...
*hugs*
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