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| a.connor a.doyle a.lindsey a.oz a.spike a.wesley a.xander a.other three.somes het.fic character.study |
| Title: Heliotrope Author: Wirrrn Pairing: Angel/Doyle Rating: R Setting: 'Hero' -Last month, Buffy phoned to tell me how much better her life was without me Hell-kilned, my Acathala heart remained hard But down the line,across buzzing,mosquito-mouthed miles I heard Riley in the room with her And she heard I heard "Here comes the Green-eyed Monster" she said; and I cradled the phone, turned to look for you But you were gone -Last week, I walked the sewer paths trod rotten-egg mire beneath rotten stone streets for demons, or monsters, or urban myth alligators that we all know are real But I found the place you hid The Ring from me and in that hot, stinking maw I smelled you again; lapping eddies of corrupted black water and in my nose the scent of almonds -Last night, I laughed with Xander, gossiped with Cordelia, raged at Kate Walked cemeteried amongst marble namesakes and traded flirtatious hostilities with Spike But I spoke with Dublin cobblestones ringing through the back alleyways of my words; I had to stop talking, for the pain of your echo. You are my laryngitis. Last year, I loved you Last year, I lost you to searing light, to purity I fear the sun, But it was you who were burned I find myself listening to Spike, hoping Liverpool will become Limerick. I find myself wishing Wesley's black leather was your brown. I find myself loathing Kate for daring to have the colour of your eyes and Buffy, for taking the soul that has always belonged to you. Today, I am in the ship again, Scourge-scoured, but the blinded beacon still haunts the heroed hold. Dust motes arc through the room Do you dance with them, Doyle? Your atoms, your cells, your Guiness-scented sweat? In case you do, I purse my lips, taste the air on my tongue, and give my Green-Eyed Monster, the kiss I never could in life. -End Feedback |