musesandlyrics | 9.10 REO Speedwagon lyrics
9.10. I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
Can’t Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon
Co-written with lotterylucky
Riley adjusted the dark sunglasses on his nose when they slipped down a little but he was digging his apartment keys out of his uniform pocket. He only just managed to not drop them and when he finally got the door open and pushed his way inside, he sighed in relief to be out of the blaring sunshine. If this was even just a hint of how vampires felt in the daytime, they had his deepest sympathies. His head was thumping, and the rest of him wasn't feeling much better either. He wasn't surprised when he found Buffy sitting at the kitchen counter flipping through what looked like one of his military magazines. He couldn't help but smirk to himself at this. Any other girl would probably find anything in those things a complete bore.
He held up his hand as he pulled the sunglasses off and dumped them on one of the armchairs with his wallet, keys, and backpack. "I know I said I would be outta your hair and all, but slight change of plans. I will be out of your hair in my bedroom. Horizontal," he told her and didn't really wait for her reaction or answer before he was already moving in the direction of his bedroom. He hastily pulled the blinds closed and then flopped down on his bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had ended up staying on the base overnight after the awkward conversation with Buffy and Rory at the apartment the morning before. But when he woke up with a headache, and other general aches and pains, Graham started avoiding him and the next thing he knew, he was swooped on by the medics who threatened to shove him in isolation if he didn't go home. Enough to make a dude feel really welcome. Damn military. Always hyper-aware of infections and all that bullshit. A headache was a headache. It had to be something to do with Buffy showing up. In fact, maybe it was a Buffy hangover. It felt similar to a hangover. Maybe she really was his crack and now he had overdosed and was coming down from the high. Either way, he just wanted the ground to stop feeling like it was shifting under him - proverbially, of course. He just didn't know if the churning stomach was nausea, or the fact he was completely and totally confused about what it meant having Buffy in his life all over again.
For some reason, even though his eyes were hidden behind his hand, he could feel her presence and he had to laugh a little. "You need to hover less conspicuously, Summers. This is me trying to be out of your hair, remember?"
"Yeah, well, this is me not letting you try and be out of my hair. Also, I bring aspirin. I think it fizzes slightly different in French water. Or I could just be losing it... and gripping onto anything that makes for small talk..." Buffy tread lightly as she entered Riley's room and set the glass she'd been holding down on his bedside table. After a moment she sat down on his bed, and ran her fingers through his hair in an affectionate gesture before she even had time to think about it. "You shouldn't have to be confined to your room when this is your apartment. I didn't mean to make you think you had to make yourself scarce. We can leave."
"No. I was just joking, Buffy. I don't want you to leave. I'm not hiding out in here, I just need to lie down. Not feeling so hot at the moment," Riley admitted and draped his hand over his chest. "Apparently I have a slight fever, which in a military base means automatically you are Contagious 101. It was isolation... or coming back here. Only, trust me, I debated with that and I don't know why. Apparently you and me being in the same room together after all this time is just going to be with the awkward on some level. But at least without the kilted one, it is slightly more peaceful," he told her with another laugh. "He's really not backwards in coming forward, is he?"
Buffy smiled as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "No, he's really not. He's very... special. It's nice to actually have someone around that just speaks his mind even if I wish to god he'd just hold his tongue sometimes. He's a good friend. He's definitely feeling the awkward though, and I can't blame him. I just wish I knew how to make it less awkward. Even if you and me get to a point where we can be friends, there's always gonna be history. There'll always be attraction. Big, scary, lusty feelings. I just don't know what to do about that." She gave him a look after a moment as her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you sick?"
"No! No... I don't get sick," Riley was saying and even then, he knew it sounded stupid. More like his ego just didn't want him to admit to any weakness. Especially in front of Buffy. "Okay. I might... maybe... just be... sort of... but only a bit! And that was about the most dorkiest way to try and save face ever," he decided, covering his eyes with a small sheepish groan. "Maybe there just has to be rolling with the awkward. Because I really don't have any idea what to do about it, either. I don't even know how to handle it. What did you do with him? Bound and gag him and lock him in my closet?"
Buffy nudged Riley gently as she held the glass out for him. "At least you had enough sense to admit defeat just a little bit to come home and rest. I know I'm probably not your dream nurse right now but if there is anything you need to help you feel better just ask. Are you hungry? Thirsty? And I'll ignore the dorkiness even if it's still just so... you." She gave him a lopsided smile as she bit back some laughter. "No, I just tied him to the window sill and left him dangling out in the sun. Being upside will really give the ladies something to talk about. He disappeared, probably went to pick up some poor, unsuspecting Frenchwoman."
Riley rose up on his elbow and took the glass, downing the Aspirin in one go. He had swallowed things that tasted a lot worse than soluable Aspirin. "Actually, they pretty much threatened me to leave. I didn't admit defeat, I just know the beds in isolation are really lumpy. Graham snitched on me, and I fully plan on getting the asshole back when I have the chance. I am also going to really try and not take it to heart that you think I'm a dork," he told her, though he shot her a look of amusement so she knew he wasn't actually offended by it. He was more than aware he had his fair share of dorky moments over his time. "No, really not anywhere in the realms of hungry right now. Hibernating sounds like a good option. Buffy... you really don't have to do this. I really don't know what is going on with you and Blaise, but there is something there. I don't have it in me to follow up the rear of another vampire in your life. Especially not one whose heart is in the right place... not that he has a heart, but you know what I mean."
"So maybe it's my turn to get out of your hair so you can hibernate. But if I'm going to be your friend, then you need to let me take care of you still. It's what friends do. I can't make chicken soup, but I can buy it. I think. There's the whole learning French thing I'm still working on. But I do know poulet! I'll just ask for poulet soup. They'll have to guess what I'm talking about. I can do mime. I'll just mime chicken soup." Buffy even did a little demonstration as she raised an invisible spoon to her mouth and then flapped her arms like a chicken. "See? Totally doable. I don't know what's going on with me and Blaise either. I need to talk to him, but I'm talking to you right now... Maybe hibernating a little myself."
Riley watched her and raised his eyebrows. "Chickens don't fly," he pointed out. "I could end up with pigeon porridge." He rubbed his head again, realising he was actually sweating now. He could try sticking his head in the sand like an ostrich in full denial, but at the end of the day, even the best soldiers could get knocked down with a cold or flu. It had just been awhile since anything but a broken bone or concussion landed him in the infirmary. In fact, the last time was the poisoning, and as that memory flicked back into his mind, he groaned just a little, pushing his fingers through his hair to try and shove it to the back of his mind again. "And I'm not hungry, so it's fine, Buffy... Buffy, Blaise doesn't let humans near him very often. Not intimately."
Buffy watched him in concern, and was tempted to get up to get him a wet cloth, but then she thought he might try and ignore her when she came back. Right now they were at least talking and it was getting less and less awkward. "Hey, I'm sure if anyone can make a good pigeon porridge it's the French. They make frogs legs after all. And snails." She crinkled her nose up in distaste even if she was trying to make a point. "If you want to get technical, I'm not exactly the world's most normal human. I got demon in me somewhere... But I get it. I just don't know what to do with it. I'm... I'm scared, Riley."
For a moment at her point about the French delicacies, Riley actually turned slightly green just at the thought. Steering clear of any French food sounded like a good plan. "Sweet... but I'll pass." He rested his hand on his chest and hooked his fingertips in the neck of his shirt. "I don't really want to get technical. You can explain away anything when you resort to the technical. You're not Kindred, to make my point more specific. Try and technical your way out of that one. You shouldn't be scared. He claimed you, he isn't going to hurt you. Quite the opposite. The only way he would hurt you would be if you threatened any of his Kind. Again, I wonder why you. You're a walking threat to his Kind, whether you admit it or not. Okay, brain really wants to stick on the frogs legs right now," he realised, sticking his tongue out when the visual wouldn't leave and his stomach protested.
"You can take your shirt off if you need to. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself. I'm all about being the good girl. And your friend. We're working on the whole friends thing." She did touch his forehead though as she checked to see if he was still feverish and bit her lip. Maybe she really should just go and get a face cloth. "You got any ice cubes in your freezer? Okay, okay. No technical. Ironic from the soldier who was all about the technical at one stage. I'm not scared of him hurting me. Not like that. I'm just... I'm scared because I really don't know what he wants from me. Those Kindred are all about the blood and the sex. What happens when he doesn't like my blood? I still don't know how that's gonna make him want me." She pulled back a little in case he was going to throw up and glanced around for something for him to use. "What is it with me and making guys throw up lately?"
"I'm not gonna throw up, even if I realise you've probably actually never seen me throw up," Riley assured her, but he didn't protest the shirt thing. He was hot and the uniform was thick and heavy. With a bit of wriggling around, he peeled himself out of it and tossed it onto the floor. Now that he was free of it, he sighed in relief. "You know, I have no idea about the ice cubes. I might. Not exactly done a whole lot of entertaining here to need them..." He watched her closely now he was lying back on the pillows and fought the urge to absentmindedly run his finger over the scar on his chest. He usually forgot about it, but in Buffy's absence, it was hard to. He was barely mid-twenties back then and had already been brainwashed, microchipped, drugged, had a heart attacked, and heart surgery. "And just for the technical that is worth the technical, if he rejected your blood, it's not technically throwing up. It's more like just the inability for it to absorb into his system. If it can't do that, it's got to go somewhere. It's not about liking it or not liking it, it's about tolerating it. More like an allergy than a dislike. If you think they're just all about the blood and sex, you're extremely, extremely wrong. Blood sustains them, keeps them alive. They don't even need sex."
Buffy stopped to think about his statement before she had to shake her head. "No, I haven't. I've seen you sweat, and shiver, and shake... Bleed, bruise. Everything else, but no vomit. I guess we were never meant for the puke test." Her gaze went to the scar as soon as his shirt was off, and before she even realised that she wasn't keeping her hands to herself like she said, her fingers were running over the mark on his skin. "No, but they like the sex better when they get the blood at the same time. The feeding is their true orgasm. Rory told me. And yet he doesn't let Juliette feed off him. They can't want to just be... ordinary. To not feed off us. I don't know how else to explain it. So he's just going to tolerate me? How is that love?"
Riley pulled his lips to the side. "Actually, I puked when I was going through those withdrawals. You were just off being scary Slayer and weren't there when I did. I guess there are just a few things we weren't destined to experience together." He cleared his throat and looked down at her touching the scar on his chest. He swallowed and wet his lips, his blue eyes soon locking back on her face when he realised he had stilled just a little feeling her touch him again. "True. It does make an orgasm feel better, but still don't need the orgasm. They would get just as much ecstasy from the feed and watching their partner climax. Sex doesn't need to be involved. Us humans base a lot on sex. It's a sign of affection, love, comfort. You name it. With a Kindred, mere continued presence is often enough. Feeding is the same, but they don't all just feed off each other. It's a loyalty and respect thing. Buffy, if you loved him, he could tolerate your blood."
She let out a quiet sigh as she felt the pesky tears build up in her eyes again, and wiped them away before she could drip on Riley's bare chest. She tucked her hands between her legs to stop herself from touching Riley again and sucked in a breath as her bottom lip trembled. "Because I'm scared. I'm scared of what it would mean if I did fall in love with him."
Riley just swallowed and folded his hands against his chest. This was weird. He was supposed to give her relationship advice now? He was supposed to give the woman he loved wholly and unconditionally love advice? He rolled over onto his side and drew his legs up a little so he was hugging his arm around himself now. Restless and akward moving around. Typical. The tears weren't helping. What was he really supposed to say? "Then, I can't help you Buffy. If I couldn't help you with loving me, I certainly can't help you with loving him."
"I did love you... Just not enough. I was always just so scared of saying it, of jinxing it. Only that made me lose you. It made me hurt you the way I was scared to be hurt. I pushed you away without even realising it. And now I could do the same before I even get started." She reached up to push her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry, this isn't what you need. I didn't mean to make you start giving me advice. So let's just not talk about Blaise, okay? Being my friend is one thing, but you shouldn't have to talk about my love life. I'm just going to go and see if you have any ice cubes, okay?" Buffy was up before he could protest, her bottom lip quivering as she escaped into the kitchen. She had no idea where the tears came from, but there was no stopping them. There never would be.
Riley was wondering how it was that just whenever his life felt like it was settling, it got tipped upside down again. He was supposed to apologise for not wanting to talk about her falling in love with someone else? To admit to her he didn't want her to? Why did it have to be his heart that was the one that always got stomped all over? Whatever it all was, he suddenly just felt plain sick. Whether it was some sort of contagious bug or the fact he was here - again - knowing he had no hope in hell of being enough for her in the shadow of someone like Blaise, he felt like utter crap. He got up off the bed and bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him. He stood over the toilet, trying to catch his breath and decide if he really did want to throw up, but his own tears pricked his eyes and he sat down on the tiles to cover his face with his hands and wondered why the hell he decided to go to the Eiffel Tower yesterday.
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And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
Can’t Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon
Co-written with lotterylucky
Riley adjusted the dark sunglasses on his nose when they slipped down a little but he was digging his apartment keys out of his uniform pocket. He only just managed to not drop them and when he finally got the door open and pushed his way inside, he sighed in relief to be out of the blaring sunshine. If this was even just a hint of how vampires felt in the daytime, they had his deepest sympathies. His head was thumping, and the rest of him wasn't feeling much better either. He wasn't surprised when he found Buffy sitting at the kitchen counter flipping through what looked like one of his military magazines. He couldn't help but smirk to himself at this. Any other girl would probably find anything in those things a complete bore.
He held up his hand as he pulled the sunglasses off and dumped them on one of the armchairs with his wallet, keys, and backpack. "I know I said I would be outta your hair and all, but slight change of plans. I will be out of your hair in my bedroom. Horizontal," he told her and didn't really wait for her reaction or answer before he was already moving in the direction of his bedroom. He hastily pulled the blinds closed and then flopped down on his bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had ended up staying on the base overnight after the awkward conversation with Buffy and Rory at the apartment the morning before. But when he woke up with a headache, and other general aches and pains, Graham started avoiding him and the next thing he knew, he was swooped on by the medics who threatened to shove him in isolation if he didn't go home. Enough to make a dude feel really welcome. Damn military. Always hyper-aware of infections and all that bullshit. A headache was a headache. It had to be something to do with Buffy showing up. In fact, maybe it was a Buffy hangover. It felt similar to a hangover. Maybe she really was his crack and now he had overdosed and was coming down from the high. Either way, he just wanted the ground to stop feeling like it was shifting under him - proverbially, of course. He just didn't know if the churning stomach was nausea, or the fact he was completely and totally confused about what it meant having Buffy in his life all over again.
For some reason, even though his eyes were hidden behind his hand, he could feel her presence and he had to laugh a little. "You need to hover less conspicuously, Summers. This is me trying to be out of your hair, remember?"
"Yeah, well, this is me not letting you try and be out of my hair. Also, I bring aspirin. I think it fizzes slightly different in French water. Or I could just be losing it... and gripping onto anything that makes for small talk..." Buffy tread lightly as she entered Riley's room and set the glass she'd been holding down on his bedside table. After a moment she sat down on his bed, and ran her fingers through his hair in an affectionate gesture before she even had time to think about it. "You shouldn't have to be confined to your room when this is your apartment. I didn't mean to make you think you had to make yourself scarce. We can leave."
"No. I was just joking, Buffy. I don't want you to leave. I'm not hiding out in here, I just need to lie down. Not feeling so hot at the moment," Riley admitted and draped his hand over his chest. "Apparently I have a slight fever, which in a military base means automatically you are Contagious 101. It was isolation... or coming back here. Only, trust me, I debated with that and I don't know why. Apparently you and me being in the same room together after all this time is just going to be with the awkward on some level. But at least without the kilted one, it is slightly more peaceful," he told her with another laugh. "He's really not backwards in coming forward, is he?"
Buffy smiled as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "No, he's really not. He's very... special. It's nice to actually have someone around that just speaks his mind even if I wish to god he'd just hold his tongue sometimes. He's a good friend. He's definitely feeling the awkward though, and I can't blame him. I just wish I knew how to make it less awkward. Even if you and me get to a point where we can be friends, there's always gonna be history. There'll always be attraction. Big, scary, lusty feelings. I just don't know what to do about that." She gave him a look after a moment as her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you sick?"
"No! No... I don't get sick," Riley was saying and even then, he knew it sounded stupid. More like his ego just didn't want him to admit to any weakness. Especially in front of Buffy. "Okay. I might... maybe... just be... sort of... but only a bit! And that was about the most dorkiest way to try and save face ever," he decided, covering his eyes with a small sheepish groan. "Maybe there just has to be rolling with the awkward. Because I really don't have any idea what to do about it, either. I don't even know how to handle it. What did you do with him? Bound and gag him and lock him in my closet?"
Buffy nudged Riley gently as she held the glass out for him. "At least you had enough sense to admit defeat just a little bit to come home and rest. I know I'm probably not your dream nurse right now but if there is anything you need to help you feel better just ask. Are you hungry? Thirsty? And I'll ignore the dorkiness even if it's still just so... you." She gave him a lopsided smile as she bit back some laughter. "No, I just tied him to the window sill and left him dangling out in the sun. Being upside will really give the ladies something to talk about. He disappeared, probably went to pick up some poor, unsuspecting Frenchwoman."
Riley rose up on his elbow and took the glass, downing the Aspirin in one go. He had swallowed things that tasted a lot worse than soluable Aspirin. "Actually, they pretty much threatened me to leave. I didn't admit defeat, I just know the beds in isolation are really lumpy. Graham snitched on me, and I fully plan on getting the asshole back when I have the chance. I am also going to really try and not take it to heart that you think I'm a dork," he told her, though he shot her a look of amusement so she knew he wasn't actually offended by it. He was more than aware he had his fair share of dorky moments over his time. "No, really not anywhere in the realms of hungry right now. Hibernating sounds like a good option. Buffy... you really don't have to do this. I really don't know what is going on with you and Blaise, but there is something there. I don't have it in me to follow up the rear of another vampire in your life. Especially not one whose heart is in the right place... not that he has a heart, but you know what I mean."
"So maybe it's my turn to get out of your hair so you can hibernate. But if I'm going to be your friend, then you need to let me take care of you still. It's what friends do. I can't make chicken soup, but I can buy it. I think. There's the whole learning French thing I'm still working on. But I do know poulet! I'll just ask for poulet soup. They'll have to guess what I'm talking about. I can do mime. I'll just mime chicken soup." Buffy even did a little demonstration as she raised an invisible spoon to her mouth and then flapped her arms like a chicken. "See? Totally doable. I don't know what's going on with me and Blaise either. I need to talk to him, but I'm talking to you right now... Maybe hibernating a little myself."
Riley watched her and raised his eyebrows. "Chickens don't fly," he pointed out. "I could end up with pigeon porridge." He rubbed his head again, realising he was actually sweating now. He could try sticking his head in the sand like an ostrich in full denial, but at the end of the day, even the best soldiers could get knocked down with a cold or flu. It had just been awhile since anything but a broken bone or concussion landed him in the infirmary. In fact, the last time was the poisoning, and as that memory flicked back into his mind, he groaned just a little, pushing his fingers through his hair to try and shove it to the back of his mind again. "And I'm not hungry, so it's fine, Buffy... Buffy, Blaise doesn't let humans near him very often. Not intimately."
Buffy watched him in concern, and was tempted to get up to get him a wet cloth, but then she thought he might try and ignore her when she came back. Right now they were at least talking and it was getting less and less awkward. "Hey, I'm sure if anyone can make a good pigeon porridge it's the French. They make frogs legs after all. And snails." She crinkled her nose up in distaste even if she was trying to make a point. "If you want to get technical, I'm not exactly the world's most normal human. I got demon in me somewhere... But I get it. I just don't know what to do with it. I'm... I'm scared, Riley."
For a moment at her point about the French delicacies, Riley actually turned slightly green just at the thought. Steering clear of any French food sounded like a good plan. "Sweet... but I'll pass." He rested his hand on his chest and hooked his fingertips in the neck of his shirt. "I don't really want to get technical. You can explain away anything when you resort to the technical. You're not Kindred, to make my point more specific. Try and technical your way out of that one. You shouldn't be scared. He claimed you, he isn't going to hurt you. Quite the opposite. The only way he would hurt you would be if you threatened any of his Kind. Again, I wonder why you. You're a walking threat to his Kind, whether you admit it or not. Okay, brain really wants to stick on the frogs legs right now," he realised, sticking his tongue out when the visual wouldn't leave and his stomach protested.
"You can take your shirt off if you need to. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself. I'm all about being the good girl. And your friend. We're working on the whole friends thing." She did touch his forehead though as she checked to see if he was still feverish and bit her lip. Maybe she really should just go and get a face cloth. "You got any ice cubes in your freezer? Okay, okay. No technical. Ironic from the soldier who was all about the technical at one stage. I'm not scared of him hurting me. Not like that. I'm just... I'm scared because I really don't know what he wants from me. Those Kindred are all about the blood and the sex. What happens when he doesn't like my blood? I still don't know how that's gonna make him want me." She pulled back a little in case he was going to throw up and glanced around for something for him to use. "What is it with me and making guys throw up lately?"
"I'm not gonna throw up, even if I realise you've probably actually never seen me throw up," Riley assured her, but he didn't protest the shirt thing. He was hot and the uniform was thick and heavy. With a bit of wriggling around, he peeled himself out of it and tossed it onto the floor. Now that he was free of it, he sighed in relief. "You know, I have no idea about the ice cubes. I might. Not exactly done a whole lot of entertaining here to need them..." He watched her closely now he was lying back on the pillows and fought the urge to absentmindedly run his finger over the scar on his chest. He usually forgot about it, but in Buffy's absence, it was hard to. He was barely mid-twenties back then and had already been brainwashed, microchipped, drugged, had a heart attacked, and heart surgery. "And just for the technical that is worth the technical, if he rejected your blood, it's not technically throwing up. It's more like just the inability for it to absorb into his system. If it can't do that, it's got to go somewhere. It's not about liking it or not liking it, it's about tolerating it. More like an allergy than a dislike. If you think they're just all about the blood and sex, you're extremely, extremely wrong. Blood sustains them, keeps them alive. They don't even need sex."
Buffy stopped to think about his statement before she had to shake her head. "No, I haven't. I've seen you sweat, and shiver, and shake... Bleed, bruise. Everything else, but no vomit. I guess we were never meant for the puke test." Her gaze went to the scar as soon as his shirt was off, and before she even realised that she wasn't keeping her hands to herself like she said, her fingers were running over the mark on his skin. "No, but they like the sex better when they get the blood at the same time. The feeding is their true orgasm. Rory told me. And yet he doesn't let Juliette feed off him. They can't want to just be... ordinary. To not feed off us. I don't know how else to explain it. So he's just going to tolerate me? How is that love?"
Riley pulled his lips to the side. "Actually, I puked when I was going through those withdrawals. You were just off being scary Slayer and weren't there when I did. I guess there are just a few things we weren't destined to experience together." He cleared his throat and looked down at her touching the scar on his chest. He swallowed and wet his lips, his blue eyes soon locking back on her face when he realised he had stilled just a little feeling her touch him again. "True. It does make an orgasm feel better, but still don't need the orgasm. They would get just as much ecstasy from the feed and watching their partner climax. Sex doesn't need to be involved. Us humans base a lot on sex. It's a sign of affection, love, comfort. You name it. With a Kindred, mere continued presence is often enough. Feeding is the same, but they don't all just feed off each other. It's a loyalty and respect thing. Buffy, if you loved him, he could tolerate your blood."
She let out a quiet sigh as she felt the pesky tears build up in her eyes again, and wiped them away before she could drip on Riley's bare chest. She tucked her hands between her legs to stop herself from touching Riley again and sucked in a breath as her bottom lip trembled. "Because I'm scared. I'm scared of what it would mean if I did fall in love with him."
Riley just swallowed and folded his hands against his chest. This was weird. He was supposed to give her relationship advice now? He was supposed to give the woman he loved wholly and unconditionally love advice? He rolled over onto his side and drew his legs up a little so he was hugging his arm around himself now. Restless and akward moving around. Typical. The tears weren't helping. What was he really supposed to say? "Then, I can't help you Buffy. If I couldn't help you with loving me, I certainly can't help you with loving him."
"I did love you... Just not enough. I was always just so scared of saying it, of jinxing it. Only that made me lose you. It made me hurt you the way I was scared to be hurt. I pushed you away without even realising it. And now I could do the same before I even get started." She reached up to push her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry, this isn't what you need. I didn't mean to make you start giving me advice. So let's just not talk about Blaise, okay? Being my friend is one thing, but you shouldn't have to talk about my love life. I'm just going to go and see if you have any ice cubes, okay?" Buffy was up before he could protest, her bottom lip quivering as she escaped into the kitchen. She had no idea where the tears came from, but there was no stopping them. There never would be.
Riley was wondering how it was that just whenever his life felt like it was settling, it got tipped upside down again. He was supposed to apologise for not wanting to talk about her falling in love with someone else? To admit to her he didn't want her to? Why did it have to be his heart that was the one that always got stomped all over? Whatever it all was, he suddenly just felt plain sick. Whether it was some sort of contagious bug or the fact he was here - again - knowing he had no hope in hell of being enough for her in the shadow of someone like Blaise, he felt like utter crap. He got up off the bed and bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him. He stood over the toilet, trying to catch his breath and decide if he really did want to throw up, but his own tears pricked his eyes and he sat down on the tiles to cover his face with his hands and wondered why the hell he decided to go to the Eiffel Tower yesterday.
Words: 3102