abetterlie: (Default)
Um - didn't we already have to write about this?

Twice?

No way I'm doing it again.
abetterlie: (Innocence Drowned by Marciaelena)
When I woke up the next morning, I was completely happy, happier than I had ever been, and then I went and screwed it up. Which was pretty much my pattern that year.

Sometimes I rewrite it in my head, so I listen to what she actually says and don't storm out, and maybe then a whole lot of other things don't happen, like the sun vanishing, her needing to give birth prematurely and the coma, the dead girl, and all the others. But it was so confusing. I woke up, and there she was, so it had not been a dream, it had been real. And the world hadn't ended, which we thought it was busy doing during the night. I kissed her shoulder to make sure it had been real, and that she still was, because I had fantasized about it so often. (I was eighteen, okay?) I'm so lucky, I thought. She loves me. She does. And the world is still there, and okay, so there is a Beast which completely kicked the crap out of me the day before and made the sky rain fire, but so what? She loves me.

"Don't do that," she said.

Okay, definitely not another fantasy. Those always ended differently.

"Do what?" I asked, completely clueless.

"That," she said. "The look. The happy puppy look. Makes it harder."

And then she told me it couldn't happen again, because I was Angel's son. At which point I pretty much stopped listening. I felt so stupid. I mean, I was stupid, but not for the reason I thought then. I should have listened. I should have stayed there and asked her to explain what she meant. But basically I just thought that either she had lied last night when she had told me we were real, that the whole Beast thing wasn't my fault, and that she had just felt sorry for me, or that she had changed her mind because I had disappointed her so much and well and truly sucked at sex. Oh, and I hated being Angel's son a bit more than usual, but that was sort of my default mode then. Still is, sometimes. Anyway, both possibilities made me feel crappier than the dirt under her shoes. I got my jeans, grabbed my shirt and got the hell out of there.

Right to Wolfram and Hart, Lilah Morgan, and a bunch of zombies. Did I mention I was incredibly stupid that morning?

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abetterlie

July 2010

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