Chapter Five: The Difference
"You're dying," a cultured voice said somewhere above her.
Faith chuckled and cracked a red-tinted smile. "I've toughed out worse things."
Gloved fingertips pushed back her hair and a pair of mismatched eyes slowly swam into focus. "You're dying," the voice repeated.
Die. Future. Dying. Present. Dead. Past.
"Present it is then," Faith said, exhaling a breath out between gritted teeth.
"You're the Slayer."
"Nah," she said. "That's B. A
Slayer, now that's me."
"What's the difference?" the voice asked, softer now, closer too.
Faith smirked a bit, feeling warm lips brush against her temple. "The boys like me better."