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I can't sleep so I drabble
Apr. 12th, 2006 04:35 amWhat if Willow had been shot by Warren instead.
Tara had always scared Xander. He could tell there was a delicate frame under those layers of quirky clothes. Her fine bones, jug ears and silky hair reminded him those comical fairy figurines. It made his own voice haunt him. Hey, did you know your girlfriend’s Tinkerbelle? "The widow and the best friend" but they weren’t falling in love. It was no chick flick cliché. So what if he noticed if Tara ate breakfast and barely saw if Buffy was home when he picked Dawn up. They were just crumbling away; trying to keep each other from eroding into nothing.
Tara claimed Willow had marked him. Rubbed up against his life for so long that she had shaped him like water over stone. Like she’d smoothed out the rough edges so that Tara could almost feel Will flowing over him when they touched. Willow the babbling brook… A comforting thought but it was bull, he was all rough edges eroded by life. His beard stubble chafed tender skin and work callused hands held her too hard and left bruises on soft places. Harris’ suck at handling fragile things. But she was the only thing left of Willow to cling to.
Tara had always scared Xander. He could tell there was a delicate frame under those layers of quirky clothes. Her fine bones, jug ears and silky hair reminded him those comical fairy figurines. It made his own voice haunt him. Hey, did you know your girlfriend’s Tinkerbelle? "The widow and the best friend" but they weren’t falling in love. It was no chick flick cliché. So what if he noticed if Tara ate breakfast and barely saw if Buffy was home when he picked Dawn up. They were just crumbling away; trying to keep each other from eroding into nothing.
Tara claimed Willow had marked him. Rubbed up against his life for so long that she had shaped him like water over stone. Like she’d smoothed out the rough edges so that Tara could almost feel Will flowing over him when they touched. Willow the babbling brook… A comforting thought but it was bull, he was all rough edges eroded by life. His beard stubble chafed tender skin and work callused hands held her too hard and left bruises on soft places. Harris’ suck at handling fragile things. But she was the only thing left of Willow to cling to.
