Drabble continues onwards...
Apr. 5th, 2005 06:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkat[Came home with yet another sick headache and icing my back as I write this.
Stomach not wanting food just yet - made mistake of eating a chicken wrap from PAX at lunch, which suffice to say did not agree with me.
The drabble/fanfic is in a way my experiment on how to write a conversation, where the action is in the dialogue. And to see if I can actually write dialogue, where the characters do not sound the same. It's also an attempt to explore two characters through the use of dialogue and description.
Been pondering drabble all day long - pondering the concept of love. Romantic and otherwise. Dismissed numerous scenerios, finally settling on just letting the characters speak for themselves. ]
Where we left off : Buffy asked Will what he decided he felt for her.
The silence drug on for so long, that Buffy glanced up at him half expecting to see him pacing or leaning against the mantlepiece, a smirk on his face. Instead, he'd sunk into one of the chairs beside his fireplace, turned it around so that the back of it was facing her. Resting one arm against the top of the back rest, legs sprawled on either side, he faced her. The posture reminded her oddly of the old Spike, except that his head was bowed and his attention was focused on floor between his feet, the half-empty glass of prune juice dangling from his right hand.
After a while he seemed to become aware of her attention upon him and glanced up to meet her gaze. But after the space of maybe five or six seconds, he shyly looked away again, a frown furrowing his brow, clearly flipping over something in his mind.
"Love...it's a funny thing," he said, so softly she had to lean forward in her chair to hear him. He glanced at her. "When I was a vamp, saw it as being all about blood, not brains. Passion. Consuming. You felt it here," he hit his gut, "and here," he hit his chest. "Fire. Burned you up inside. Made you crazy.
Made you hard. Made you weak. And powerful at the same time. Depending on the situation. It's what me and Dru had - that all consuming passion, couldn't get enough of each other - couldn't be around each other without touching, without kissing - and when we connected, the world exploded. When we didn't? The world was a bottomless pit. All or nothing. No in between. Was all about the rush.
Before Dru, before I became a vamp? It was about poetry, gentle conversations, sneaking kisses in corridors, dancing just ever so closely...what one reads in books, I suppose." He shook his head, laughing softly; she guessed at himself.
"Always thought of love, romantic, parental, what-have you as being the focus of someone's life. Me Mum? She didn't love me unless I was the center of her existence, her focus. Everything I did was beautiful in her eyes. She'd die for me, my mum and I'd die for her. When I met Dru - saw it much the same way, except more so, Dru was mine. We belonged to one another. Course, it was a selfish type of belonging. I could shag whomever I chose, but she couldn't and vice versa. We drove each other right bonkers." He paused, stared at his half-finished glass of prune juice, made a face and put it aside. Leaning back slightly from the back of the chair he'd been resting against, he looked past her at his shelves. "Some of those books up there - they talk about nothing but love - Shakespeare's sonnets, Shelley, Keats, Byron, and of course old man Proust's Swann in Love. Namby-pamby nancy boy talk - but that was me, at heart.
Love's bitch. It wasn't love unless it consumed me, ate me up inside, made me crazy. Thought much the same about everyone else." He tilted his head to the side. "Then I became obsessed with you. Wasn't love. Not at the start. Drove Dru away from me. Caused me to go back to Sunnyhell and get the bleeding chip in my head. Made me right crazy. All I could think about, dream about was you.
You became my world. My raison d'etre. Killing you, shagging you, possessing you. See to a vampire killing and shagging aren't all that far removed - result in more or less the same experience. Except shagging tends to last longer."
"I seem to recall you saving me quite a few times, along with Dawn."
"Well, yeah. When I decided I loved you, couldn't bloody well stand to have you hurt, could I? How'd you feel when we tortured Angel? Torn up inside right? Like someone hurt a part of your own self? That's how I felt when Glory or any of those other nasties hurt you. Like someone was sticking pins in me.
You became my entire world. I lived because you were in my life. I considered dusting myself when you died, only thing that stopped me was that promise I gave you about protecting the Bit, Dawn. When you came back - it was all I could do not to be around you, see you, touch you. When we had sex - I wanted more. Became as addicted to it as you were I suspect."
She laughed. "Yes, well, the sex was great."
His eyes flickered in surprise and amusement. "Was it now? Nice to see you admit it."
"Don't remember denying it."
He thought for a moment. "Nope, you didn't. Never denied wanting me, did you?
Other things, yeah, but not that. But it wasn't love, was it? Thought it was at the time. Thought we had what you and Angel did - that all consuming passion. Never getting enough of one another. Covering each other's backs. Took me a long time to understand what you tried to tell me before I attacked you. How that burning passion I felt consumed by and thought we had, wasn't love. When I got the soul, you were still the center of my universe. My reason for continuing. I'd have died for you, well sort of did, come to think of it.
Although I think I might have done that anyway. Right thing to do. Certainly did something similar with the old man. I loved everything about you, your quirks, flaws, blemishes, horrid analogies, would have done anything you asked, right or wrong. Didn't matter." He stretched his legs and tilted his head to either side, stretching the neck muscels. Letting the silence fall between them for a bit. "Then I died. And came back. In the intervening years, I've been with a few women, dated. Also seen the relationship between Chuck and Annie blossom nicely. And realized I didn't know a hell of a lot about love. " He shrugged. "Did I love you? I lusted after you, I craved you, I burned for you, I desired you, I wanted you, I worshipped you, I honored you, I grieved for you, I fought for a soul for you and I died for you. But I'm not sure that's love. At least not the way you or anyone else deserves or wants to be loved. Not in the quiet, companionable way Chuck loves Annie. You should see them together? How they quietly support one another. How they have their separate pursuites. Don't judge. Don't force. Find each other endlessly fascinating. They click in a way I'm not sure I've ever quite clicked with anyone. It's patient. It's caring. And it's mutual."
Okay have to get food, watch Veronica Mars. And decompress. Not sure this works or not. Certainly not what I intended to write when I sat down to write it. Nor is it what was in my head most of today. The gist maybe, but not the words. Odd that.
Stomach not wanting food just yet - made mistake of eating a chicken wrap from PAX at lunch, which suffice to say did not agree with me.
The drabble/fanfic is in a way my experiment on how to write a conversation, where the action is in the dialogue. And to see if I can actually write dialogue, where the characters do not sound the same. It's also an attempt to explore two characters through the use of dialogue and description.
Been pondering drabble all day long - pondering the concept of love. Romantic and otherwise. Dismissed numerous scenerios, finally settling on just letting the characters speak for themselves. ]
Where we left off : Buffy asked Will what he decided he felt for her.
The silence drug on for so long, that Buffy glanced up at him half expecting to see him pacing or leaning against the mantlepiece, a smirk on his face. Instead, he'd sunk into one of the chairs beside his fireplace, turned it around so that the back of it was facing her. Resting one arm against the top of the back rest, legs sprawled on either side, he faced her. The posture reminded her oddly of the old Spike, except that his head was bowed and his attention was focused on floor between his feet, the half-empty glass of prune juice dangling from his right hand.
After a while he seemed to become aware of her attention upon him and glanced up to meet her gaze. But after the space of maybe five or six seconds, he shyly looked away again, a frown furrowing his brow, clearly flipping over something in his mind.
"Love...it's a funny thing," he said, so softly she had to lean forward in her chair to hear him. He glanced at her. "When I was a vamp, saw it as being all about blood, not brains. Passion. Consuming. You felt it here," he hit his gut, "and here," he hit his chest. "Fire. Burned you up inside. Made you crazy.
Made you hard. Made you weak. And powerful at the same time. Depending on the situation. It's what me and Dru had - that all consuming passion, couldn't get enough of each other - couldn't be around each other without touching, without kissing - and when we connected, the world exploded. When we didn't? The world was a bottomless pit. All or nothing. No in between. Was all about the rush.
Before Dru, before I became a vamp? It was about poetry, gentle conversations, sneaking kisses in corridors, dancing just ever so closely...what one reads in books, I suppose." He shook his head, laughing softly; she guessed at himself.
"Always thought of love, romantic, parental, what-have you as being the focus of someone's life. Me Mum? She didn't love me unless I was the center of her existence, her focus. Everything I did was beautiful in her eyes. She'd die for me, my mum and I'd die for her. When I met Dru - saw it much the same way, except more so, Dru was mine. We belonged to one another. Course, it was a selfish type of belonging. I could shag whomever I chose, but she couldn't and vice versa. We drove each other right bonkers." He paused, stared at his half-finished glass of prune juice, made a face and put it aside. Leaning back slightly from the back of the chair he'd been resting against, he looked past her at his shelves. "Some of those books up there - they talk about nothing but love - Shakespeare's sonnets, Shelley, Keats, Byron, and of course old man Proust's Swann in Love. Namby-pamby nancy boy talk - but that was me, at heart.
Love's bitch. It wasn't love unless it consumed me, ate me up inside, made me crazy. Thought much the same about everyone else." He tilted his head to the side. "Then I became obsessed with you. Wasn't love. Not at the start. Drove Dru away from me. Caused me to go back to Sunnyhell and get the bleeding chip in my head. Made me right crazy. All I could think about, dream about was you.
You became my world. My raison d'etre. Killing you, shagging you, possessing you. See to a vampire killing and shagging aren't all that far removed - result in more or less the same experience. Except shagging tends to last longer."
"I seem to recall you saving me quite a few times, along with Dawn."
"Well, yeah. When I decided I loved you, couldn't bloody well stand to have you hurt, could I? How'd you feel when we tortured Angel? Torn up inside right? Like someone hurt a part of your own self? That's how I felt when Glory or any of those other nasties hurt you. Like someone was sticking pins in me.
You became my entire world. I lived because you were in my life. I considered dusting myself when you died, only thing that stopped me was that promise I gave you about protecting the Bit, Dawn. When you came back - it was all I could do not to be around you, see you, touch you. When we had sex - I wanted more. Became as addicted to it as you were I suspect."
She laughed. "Yes, well, the sex was great."
His eyes flickered in surprise and amusement. "Was it now? Nice to see you admit it."
"Don't remember denying it."
He thought for a moment. "Nope, you didn't. Never denied wanting me, did you?
Other things, yeah, but not that. But it wasn't love, was it? Thought it was at the time. Thought we had what you and Angel did - that all consuming passion. Never getting enough of one another. Covering each other's backs. Took me a long time to understand what you tried to tell me before I attacked you. How that burning passion I felt consumed by and thought we had, wasn't love. When I got the soul, you were still the center of my universe. My reason for continuing. I'd have died for you, well sort of did, come to think of it.
Although I think I might have done that anyway. Right thing to do. Certainly did something similar with the old man. I loved everything about you, your quirks, flaws, blemishes, horrid analogies, would have done anything you asked, right or wrong. Didn't matter." He stretched his legs and tilted his head to either side, stretching the neck muscels. Letting the silence fall between them for a bit. "Then I died. And came back. In the intervening years, I've been with a few women, dated. Also seen the relationship between Chuck and Annie blossom nicely. And realized I didn't know a hell of a lot about love. " He shrugged. "Did I love you? I lusted after you, I craved you, I burned for you, I desired you, I wanted you, I worshipped you, I honored you, I grieved for you, I fought for a soul for you and I died for you. But I'm not sure that's love. At least not the way you or anyone else deserves or wants to be loved. Not in the quiet, companionable way Chuck loves Annie. You should see them together? How they quietly support one another. How they have their separate pursuites. Don't judge. Don't force. Find each other endlessly fascinating. They click in a way I'm not sure I've ever quite clicked with anyone. It's patient. It's caring. And it's mutual."
Okay have to get food, watch Veronica Mars. And decompress. Not sure this works or not. Certainly not what I intended to write when I sat down to write it. Nor is it what was in my head most of today. The gist maybe, but not the words. Odd that.
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-05 07:07 pm (UTC)Looking forward to more!
no subject
Date: 2005-04-06 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-06 04:29 am (UTC)I agree with the above comment about how interesting Buffy's reaction will be to this speech.