Inside my skin, there is this space /

It twists and turns /

It bleeds and aches /

Inside my heart there's an empty room /

It's waiting for lightning /

It's waiting for you

~ Jewel, 'Absence of Fear'





Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep warm, while he's out hunting. Funny thing, I'm chosen to slay monsters and demons of all kinds, and he is one of the worst, but I allow myself to basically belong to him.

I'm freezing now, like I always am, because he keeps me in a tank-top and short skirt, and he won't even let me start a fire in the fireplace because Angel used to do that all the time, and god forbid he or I do anything that he had ever done. I've done some evil things, but I never meant for this to happen. All I wanted was comfort. I had no idea that if I fucked him, I'd get rid of his soul. Guess he lost it the first time because he and Buffy had sex, not because he loved her. Not that I'm saying that he didn't love her. I know he did, with all his soul. I know, because Angelus likes to tell me about just how mush he loved her on random intervals just because he gets a kick out of seeing me cry, which I do every time he does it. Because he somehow knows that I was in love with Angel. And he loves to tell me how soulboy would never have felt the same.

The door slams, and I know he's back. From the fact that he's whistling, I know he's in a good mood. He probably got one of the Scoobies. Or maybe he got Dawn, Buffy's bratty little sister, and the one chosen when he killed B. And to my shame, I'm hoping maybe he did get one of them. Last time, when he got Red's petite girlfriend, the blonde, he left bruises that took no time to heal thanks to my Slayerness. Or maybe he won't kill Dawn just yet. Maybe he'll catch her, kill me, and break her, so she's a ghost of once she once was, like he did to me.

When he comes into the room, I know he must have killed one of the Scoobies, because he doesn't have his whip or lighter. I momentarily feel tears weald up in my eyes, and she drops a knot of red hair on his dresser. He got Red. And from the bits of white at the ends of the hair, I know he must've pulled it out of her head in a fistful. Must've hurt Red like a bitch.

He takes off his belt, and I hold my breath, until he tosses it aside. I know there will be no beatings tonight. He walks over and takes off my top so fast, I barely register what he's done.

That's when I feel the cold again. Inside and out.