Into Paralyzing Silence
Title: Into Paralyzing Silence.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Characters: Angel/Buffy, Angelus/Buffy.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 481.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: She breaks the table and he doesn't even flinch.
Author's Note: AU for Graduation Day Part 2. Title from Flyleaf's "Sorrow."
Her blood is the richest he's ever tasted.
It feels like warm honey is spilling down his throat, coating his taste buds. Slayer blood sticks to the roof of his mouth and all Angel can think about is getting more, drinking more. His hands curl tighter around Buffy's body as they fall to the floor; he hears the faint sound of her crushing the pitcher, but it doesn't mean anything. All that matters is the way her lifeline flows through his mouth, drips down from the corners of his lips.
She breaks the table and he doesn't even flinch.
He feels her hands gripping his back, trust spilling from her fingertips and had she been a normal girl, he would've already broken her ribs with his hands. He pins her down without realizing it, presses his body flush against hers.
There's a moan from her mouth and then, "Angel." His name comes out as a breath and he shivers, but doesn't let go.
Instead, he snaps.
The world goes black for a split second and suddenly, he has no real control. He growls into her neck, so loud it nearly shakes the walls, and he can feel her sense a change. She's too weak to fight him off now, he's drank so much, but she tries anyways. Her hands feel oddly fragile against his chest as she pushes.
"Angel, no," she cries out now, but the words still sound like a moan to him.
He fights the urge to laugh, to correct her: It's Angelus, sweetheart. Angel's long gone.
Buffy struggles harder against him, but it's still not enough. He's got her dangling dangerously near the line of death, which causes a new warmth to fill his stomach.
When she goes limp, there's actually a part of Angelus that feels bad, that feels like he's lost something. He ignores it, figures it's just the fact that he'll no longer be able to taste her untainted blood, that he regrets not leaving her alive so he could feed off her whenever he wanted. He lifts his head and licks his lips, watching Buffy's still eyes. His fingers trace over her cheek, her blood still warm and thick in his mouth.
There's a heartbeat, but it's faint. Were she in the hospital, they'd be using the paddles on her.
Instead, Angelus kisses her lips before parting them. He lifts his wrist to his mouth and bites down, frowning when his blood mixes with the taste of the slayer, threatens to wash it away; he wants to taste her for days.
His blood drips slowly into her mouth and he watches as she stirs.
The feel of her lips wrapped around his wrist, greedily taking in his blood, sends another shiver down his spine.
When she finally lets go and looks at him with hungry eyes, he grins. He's never sired something so perfect.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Characters: Angel/Buffy, Angelus/Buffy.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 481.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: She breaks the table and he doesn't even flinch.
Author's Note: AU for Graduation Day Part 2. Title from Flyleaf's "Sorrow."
Her blood is the richest he's ever tasted.
It feels like warm honey is spilling down his throat, coating his taste buds. Slayer blood sticks to the roof of his mouth and all Angel can think about is getting more, drinking more. His hands curl tighter around Buffy's body as they fall to the floor; he hears the faint sound of her crushing the pitcher, but it doesn't mean anything. All that matters is the way her lifeline flows through his mouth, drips down from the corners of his lips.
She breaks the table and he doesn't even flinch.
He feels her hands gripping his back, trust spilling from her fingertips and had she been a normal girl, he would've already broken her ribs with his hands. He pins her down without realizing it, presses his body flush against hers.
There's a moan from her mouth and then, "Angel." His name comes out as a breath and he shivers, but doesn't let go.
Instead, he snaps.
The world goes black for a split second and suddenly, he has no real control. He growls into her neck, so loud it nearly shakes the walls, and he can feel her sense a change. She's too weak to fight him off now, he's drank so much, but she tries anyways. Her hands feel oddly fragile against his chest as she pushes.
"Angel, no," she cries out now, but the words still sound like a moan to him.
He fights the urge to laugh, to correct her: It's Angelus, sweetheart. Angel's long gone.
Buffy struggles harder against him, but it's still not enough. He's got her dangling dangerously near the line of death, which causes a new warmth to fill his stomach.
When she goes limp, there's actually a part of Angelus that feels bad, that feels like he's lost something. He ignores it, figures it's just the fact that he'll no longer be able to taste her untainted blood, that he regrets not leaving her alive so he could feed off her whenever he wanted. He lifts his head and licks his lips, watching Buffy's still eyes. His fingers trace over her cheek, her blood still warm and thick in his mouth.
There's a heartbeat, but it's faint. Were she in the hospital, they'd be using the paddles on her.
Instead, Angelus kisses her lips before parting them. He lifts his wrist to his mouth and bites down, frowning when his blood mixes with the taste of the slayer, threatens to wash it away; he wants to taste her for days.
His blood drips slowly into her mouth and he watches as she stirs.
The feel of her lips wrapped around his wrist, greedily taking in his blood, sends another shiver down his spine.
When she finally lets go and looks at him with hungry eyes, he grins. He's never sired something so perfect.