B t V S / A t S
P E R S P E C T I V E S
When Harmony wears the cashmere sweater, Spike can imagine he’s content. There’s young flesh in his arms again, long blond hair running between his fingers and smooth skin lying beneath his own. It could be Buffy’s if he shuts his eyes tight, tuning out Harmony’s ditzy chatter and breathing in the scent of another girl, left on his lover by the wool.
But dead flesh never warms him enough.
She thinks she loves him. He’s handsome and strong and he always knows what to do. He’s rough and – ew – a little kinky, but she knows he’ll come round in the end.
When she’s in his arms, she feels safe, protected from even the Slayer. He’s killed them before and his chip won’t stop him getting this one in the end.
It’s a pity he never holds her anymore.
They’re like some freak couple, some cosmic joke, ‘Spike and Harmony, the two most useless vampires in existence’. Buffy thinks she should have staked them long ago, but they’re just about pathetic enough to let live.
But once and not so long ago, Spike had been strong. She needs to remind herself when his blue eyes catch hers in the darkness and she forgets for a moment to breathe.
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