Disclaimer: Once again I own nothing and if I did would I honestly be posting fanfiction?
I watched as he walked away quietly and I wondered why I cared that he no longer sat outside my house in the middle of the night, that he no longer followed me on patrols or watched my every move. Why did I care that he seemed completely disinterested in me?
William Pratt, William the Bloody, Spike. He was known by so many names, feared by so many people. The blood on his hands should have me thanking god that he no longer had an obsession over me, so why did I feel like chasing after him? Why did I long to feel his lips on mine like the first time we kissed? I remembered I was revolted with myself, so why was it now that I wished to turn back time to relive that one single moment?
“Because you felt more alive in that one moment then you have since you came back.” Answered a small voice inside my head that I usually drown out, but I found it hard to ignore this time because I knew it to be true. So with a sigh I began my journey to the graveyard and to Spike’s crypt.
As I walked I mulled over what I was going to do once I got there because I knew just showing up wouldn’t do anything except bring awkwardness and that I did not want, so what was I planning exactly? Nothing. I decided as I walked through the steel gate ways of the cemetery, nope I was just going to let the chips fall where they may.
I could see Spike’s crypt from where I stood but the tingling sensation of a vampire’s presence stopped me from continuing. It didn’t feel normal, usually when my slayer senses alerted me to a vampire’s presence it was like something sharp pricking at me, but this- this was something entirely different. I ghosted up on me and left a sickly sweet smell in my nose and the taste of the sweetest candy in my mouth. So main point in all this: Vampire + unusual side effects = Bad.
I quickly looked around myself but couldn’t see anything so I allowed my slayer instincts to guide me towards the vampire and to my surprise it led me straight to the door of Spike’s crypt. As silently as possible I leaned in and put my ear to the door and listened in.
“Spike you do know that we shouldn’t be doing this, right?” Asked a musical voice that sounded anything but repentant and I recognized it as the voice of Bella Swan, Spike and I had met Edward and Bella out on patrol and we had agreed that as long as they didn’t get all “Grr Arr” with the humans that there would be no slaying, so why was Bella in Spike’s crypt?
“Well, luv, I never was too fond of following the rules.” I heard Spike’s British accent reply before all talking stopped and it wasn’t until the first moan came out that I realized what was happening and with a shocked gasp I stumbled away from Spike’s door.
What was this feeling? It couldn’t be heartbreak; you have to have loved for there to be heartbreak, right?