Genre: Angst, one-shot.
Pairing: If you've read "Waiting" you should know who they are.
Spoilers: Season Five if any.
Warning: Not any I can think of.
Thanks to Pat for betaing this.
AN: I made this shortly after writing "Waiting" as I wanted something from the other POV.
Summary: Companion piece to Waiting. Should be read after Waiting.
Stepping out of the elevator she looked herself over. Deciding she was presentable she absentmindedly smoothed down the skirt as she walked to his office. She hated the things but he liked how they looked on her so she wore them anyway.
Smiling at Harmony she accepted the mug with his blood and walked to the closed doors. She had been down with Fred earlier just talking about the same things. Her head buzzed from the thoughts going round and round in her head. She couldn't blame her though, Fred just wanted to help.
Opening the door her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him sitting behind his enormous desk – a feat considering she still didn't need to breathe.
At the sound of the door opening he lifted his head a furrow on his brow at the unannounced entrance but seeing her walk in it disappeared as quickly as the mist under a summer sun.
She counted all the lucky stars that Dru loved that in her misfortune she came out blessed, because she had him. If it hadn't happened she shudder to think where they would have been. Most likely hating each other guts, at least from his part as she never really hated him in spite of all the things she had said.
He loved her, she knew that, she could see it in his eyes every time she walked into a room, the way he touched her at night when they were alone in bed. She never felt so worshiped and it felt like her heart would burst from the feelings it contained. He loved her, but he didn't know the truth. She felt cold shivers shoot through her every time she thinks of how he would react to her saying the truth. She yearns to say it. She doesn't want any secret between them.
But she can't lose him, she knows now that she wouldn't be able to go on if she did. He was her world now.
She watched as he rose from behind the desk. As he walked to her she leaned into his embrace and sunk into his kiss careful to make the mug with the blood stay upright. Leaning back he pecked her on her nose making her roll her eyes. Handing her the mug she followed him back to the desk answering his questions absentmindedly.
Sitting before him she asked him what's he's up to not really paying attention to his words. She's too caught up watching the way his throat works swallowing the blood, the way his muscles tense and relax whenever he shifts in his seat. Shaking her head she looks into his amused eyes and she thanked whatever god there was that vampires couldn't blush as she was caught red handed looking at him like a love sick fool.
She had been in heaven ever since they became a real couple, something she had dreamt for as long as she could remember but she has never felt so powerless either. She wanted so much to tell him, in fact she was going to do it today. Straightening her back she caught his attention and opened her mouth. And then she looked into his eyes and saw the love there.
Shaking her head she opened her mouth again to say it, his now worried voice inquiring what was wrong. But each time she looked into his eyes she couldn't help but feel the fear rise in her and the words died on her tongue. Because he really loved her. The way she had always wanted him to.
And she can't bear to lose him. For the first time she has everything she ever wanted or wished and she can't bear to lose that. His love, is like having the sun shine full force at her every time, it blinds her, consumes her and is as vital to her now as the water and the real sun is for the plants.
So, deflating she closed her mouth shaking her head, she can't tell him. Every day she wakes up though, and tell herself this is the day she will tell him. But then she sees him, and he smiles at her, that smile, the one that illuminates his entire face and makes him really look like his namesake and would have made any poet weep from it's sheer beauty, just like it has made this one do. And the words die - again.
He loves her, and most importantly she loves him and can for the first time show it openly, and she can't bear to lose that because she is sure that he will not forgive her, accuse her of playing with him – never mind that she didn't get like this on purpose – if he knew the truth. Though a part of her tells her that he will not let her go, he will still love her. But what if?
So she remains quiet a part of her weeping for her cowardliness.
Never did she think that the day would have come where she would be ruled by fear.