Come on break my heart again [For old times sake]

[Discuss a place you go when you want to get away from it all]

Takes place in the middle of the storyline no no no at slayer_rehab

There is still dirt under her fingernails and a layer of grime across her skin but he doesn’t notice, doesn’t care doesn’tdoesn’tdoesn’t. They maintain a bubble of space don’tcrossdon’ttouchdon’tbreathe-don’tdon’tdon’t, circling like dancers in some elaborate ritual. He steps forward, she steps back, circling to the left while he follows circling to the right. They always come back to the same point, his eyes asking questions she’s never had answers to. The tension pops when he reaches out, fingers brushing her cheek and coming away smudged with dirt. She bites her bottom lip wanting to beg him no and then ask to stay.

“I’ve got some clean clothes you could-“

“My room is just down the hall, it’s not raining and I’m not cold. Besides, me in your clothes never works out that well for us.”

His nod is an apology—terse and slight as he shoves both hands back in his pockets. Excuses tremble on his lips but he doesn’t give voice to them. They wouldn’t matter—wouldn’t make sense; not for them. Now or ever. She forgets sometimes how well she knows him and wonders if she always has or this is something new. His brow furrows and she can see it written across his face. Why?. She shrugs in answer to the furrowed brow because she won’t tell him, can’t tell him and honestly, he already knows because he knew her so many years before she ever figured him out.

They stand that way, space maintained; his hands shoved in his pockets, her arms wrapped around her body as if she can hold the world together this way. She closes her eyes, listening as the building complains maybe mourning for the girls that won’t come home and maybe sighing because it’s less now—less noise, less responsibility, less and maybe closer to being done Iwasfinished. His fingertips are there against her cheek again and this time she doesn’t have the strength so she leans into the touch, letting the space fall like an executioner’s scythe. It all melts away and her arms are replaced with his, tension still there—the last defense against…against things she can’t even name anymore because they don’t matter, they don’t count and they didn’t then. They were just—

Itsjustfortonight.Itdoesn’tmean-

iknow

The only tears she’ll shed come in the form of melting against him—the cold of his chest, the silence that she can’t ever find inside herself and the way he holds on like he’ll never let go. It’s a lie but she’s more comfortable with lies than she was ten years ago. This is a respite and it will break her heart but he was going to anyway. She thinks it’s his destiny.

Tomorrow they’ll go back to awkward avoidance because that’s what they do best but right now, she’s not the General or the slayer or anything at all.

Stillmygirl?
Always
Howlongcanyoustay?
Forever.Howdoesforeverworkforyou
Itsjustfortonight.Itdoesn’tmean-

“Buffy-“

“Shhh-“ she silences him with a hand over his mouth then draws it away. “Just-“
kissme

“Let me stay for a little while. Don’t let go-“

“Shhh.”