The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

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 Post subject: When Love Arrives - PART 2 5/9/19
PostPosted: Tue Apr 30, 2019 7:49 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Posts: 384
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Location: New York
• Title: When Love Arrives
• Author: mmmh-Hot-Sauce
• Distribution: Anyone can have it if they want.
• Spoilers: None AU
• Rating: PG13 - NC17
• Pairing: W/T
• Summary: Tara's thought's from 'New Moon Rising' when Oz shows up.
Disclaimer: This is a sequel to 'Blackouts and Breakthroughs' ... it'll be broken up into three parts.



***


Part 1: 'Cherry blossoms and Rain'
PG13


***


To think, the day started out the way it did. That only this morning, in the early hours of dawn, I was listening to the pounding of my heart. Convinced it was trying to break out of its mandatory jail cell known as my ribs. I couldn’t help but think of hummingbirds and how they can flap their wings 80 times in a second. And even though that’s fast, should someone ever take a stethoscope to my chest to listen to my heart beat whenever I lay my eyes on her, it would not compare. I swear; I could stare at her all day like a Caravaggio painting. She’s just beautiful. Especially now, the way she was sleeping in my bed, face nestled into the crook of my neck, her breath tickling my skin while her bed tossed hair cascaded over my chin. I couldn’t help but to inhale deeply, the smell of her shampoo tantalizing; assaulting all of my senses as I relished in her scent. Cherry blossoms and rain after a thunderstorm. Uniquely her.


The day was supposed to be magical, just like all the days leading up to it have been. How could it not, when I got to spend the early morning hours just watching her sleep peacefully, a serene smile etched at the corner of her lips. Or when I felt her hand trail its way up my naked torso as she slowly stirred from her slumber. Watching her, eyes still closed, as her hand came to rest above my heart for a few beats before continuing on its journey, sneakily inching over to cup my breast.


To think after this morning’s antics; wandering hands, feverish kisses and a cold shower followed up by a leisurely walk through the campus quad discussing the perks of adopting a kitten together would lead me here. To this very moment. Sitting rigid on a bar stool, confusion written all over my face as I stare in utter horror at the petite figure standing motionless by the front door. I’m not sure how many times I blinked my eyes but it seemed with every flick of my eyelids, the image before me got stronger, brighter, and tangible.


I stood transfix, muscles twitching along my eyebrows as I try to piece together in my brain what I already know in my heart. It felt like hours flew by before she finally said his name. A strangled cry. “Oz”. It’s then that my brain and my heart sync together as I repeat the name out load. I catch her eye, holding her gaze briefly before dropping my head; my fingers have suddenly become very interesting.


Out of the corner of my eye, I look at the man standing sheepishly at the door and then to the woman who’s been steadily stealing my heart. There’s a look on her face that I can’t decipher. Confusion, trepidation … Longing, probably. Voices started sounding all around me, blending together but all I could hear was my throat tightening as saliva strained to pass down my esophagus with a struggled gulp


I can’t take my eyes off of her. There’s this spark in her eye I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before. I feel my heart slowing and speeding up all at the same time. My breath is coming in silent raged waves now, just short of hyperventilation. I’m broken out of my muted trance when a blur of motion crosses in front of me. It’s him, coming to stand by my goddess, my savior, my everything; asking to see her later.


His voice, the sound of dark brown velvet, destroys me as he calls out her name. Adoration clearly evident in his voice, even more so in his eyes. I can’t help but drop my head again, the tension between them palpable. The room feels like it’s closing in on me all the while rotating on its axes, spinning madly. I feel queasy as a sense of light headedness over takes me; I’m finding it difficult to breath. The air has become stale, stagnant, and seemingly too thick to swallow. I’m suffocating on my own thoughts. My brain and my heart both screaming at me now to run. To get as far away as possible. The inevitable is coming and you don’t want to be around for it.


Through curtained hair, I watch what feels like a well-choreographed dance as Oz backs away from Willow and Buffy steps forward, her voice gentle as she comforts her best friend. Everything in me is still screaming to go, to get out, that I’ve made a huge mistake. Through restricted vocals, I choke out that I have to leave, that I’m late for study group. I feel her eyes scrutinizing me; she knows that I’m lying. She has my schedule memorized better than I do, having embedded it into that beautiful brain of hers. She steps forward towards me, saying my name placidly. I see her reach out her hands instinctively to cusp mine, trying to stop me from leaving but I pull back; her touch feels like a hot iron, it burns my skin. I stutter feebly, the words sticking to my tongue as I tell her that she needs to be with her friends. It breaks my heart further but I walk away from her, a demure “wait” chasing after me as I close the door on my way out of the apartment.


***


The long walk back to campus was torturous. Thoughts swiveled through my mind, berating me for falling for a straight woman. For falling for a straight woman who has a Bermuda triangle smile, sucking me in until I’m lost in her beauty. My own internal voice switches to my father’s. His cold callouses voice prominent, furthering the berating. I hear him clearly, disgusted, patronizing me for being so foolish, to think anyone could possibly love me. My body grows cold, an uncomfortable numbness setting in as I enter my dark, desolate room, my eyes landing on the unkempt bed we shared just a few hours ago.


For hours I sat alone in my room, knees curled to my chest as I laid in a fetal position on my bed. I stared at the clock on the night stand, my eyes never wavering as I watched the glowing red numbers continuously roll over, ticking away, and letting me know that I’ve missed both of my evening classes. In the silence of my room, I pondered over the recent events and what it means for me. For Willow. For us.


If I could rewrite this day I would, but I can’t, so we’re here; in this concrete graveyard approaching the afterlife of our newly flourishing relationship. Because her heart speaks Antigone and I can’t be her Sophocles. My thoughts continue to race like this well into the night, they flow through my mind at a rapid pace, but they always end the same. I keep coming back to the same resolution. That Willow needs to do what makes her happy … even if that mean’s leaving.


The shuttering sigh that ransacks my body causes a new wave of tears to emerge. I let them flow freely down my cheek, dampening my pillow as I steady myself for what I know I need to do. Screwing my eyelids tightly shut, I conjure a picture of Willow in my mind, her radiant smile glowing like a neon sign. The image causes more tears to billow as the corners of my lips twitch. Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow I’ll tell her she needs to do what’s best for her … even if it kills me.


***


My alarm sounded two hours ago, but I can’t phantom getting out of bed, the ceiling has become too enticing. The cracks and chipped pieces of paint calling to me, showing me what my heart must look like. It wasn’t until rays of sunlight seeped through the curtains, reaching my bed and blinding me, that I forced myself to get up. To get moving. To face the inevitable.


Somberly, I put on clothing. A blue tie-dye number that’s been hanging off the back of my chair for a few days now after an impromptu make out session with Willow lead to heavy petting. I barely register that my outfits dark, mismatched and wrinkled. The gloomy ensemble matching my mood. I don’t have time to consider my appearance, seeing Willow has pushed its way to the forefront of my mind. Steadying my nerves as best as possible, I walk out of my room, my fingers trembling as I lock the door behind me.


Procrastination took over as soon as my shoe touched grass. What usually took five minutes, felt like thirty as I shuffled my feet to my final destination, a two inch thick piece of wood separating me from my dream woman. My never to touch again … to kiss again … to have again, woman. I close my eyes, taking in a deep lungful of air to try and calm the anxiety running through my veins, my fist rising to knock on the door.


My well-rehearsed speech disintegrates almost instantly, my mouth immediately going dry as the door swung open to reveal him. I can’t help but notice that his shirt is just as wrinkled as mine. I look at him in shock, then briefly to the slightly rumpled comforter on the bed, and then back to him. Taking him in, absorbing his features. Oz. Ruggedly handsome in an unconventional way. I try to apologize but my stutters back, worse than ever. I tell him I’ll come back later but he keeps on insisting for me to stick around, that Willow is just down the hall in the bathroom. He tries to engage in conversation but I’m doing everything to hold back tears, to not let him see how distraught I am by his presence. At his final remark, “You sure you don't wanna come in?” I shake my head no vigorously to keep from speaking through quivering lips, my throat so constricted I doubt any sound would have come out anyways.


Hastily I retreat, fleeing down the hall towards the sanctity of my own bedroom, new tears trailing down my cheeks. What had previously taken thirty minutes now felt like thirty seconds, as I enter my room out of breath, my hands instantly coming up to rub my red swollen eyes. Leaning back against the sturdy lumber, I let my head fall backward, the base of my skull connecting with the door. I repeatedly tap my head against the door while I chastise myself, new feelings and unwanted imagery engulfing my mind.


After minutes of self-belittlement, I pull my body from the door and cross to my bed, resuming the position from earlier. I hone in on the time on the clock, just past nine. I debate going to my classes but think better of it. My mind was too preoccupied to learn and my blood red eyes from the never ending streams of tears running down my cheeks were too prominent to hide. Pulling a pillow to my chest as my body quaked with silent sobs, I inhale deeply. The smell of Cherry blossoms and rain assault my sense all over again, creating a new wave of tears.

_________________
Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


Last edited by mmmh-Hot-Sauce on Thu May 09, 2019 10:22 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - NEW 4/30/19 (PG13-NC17)
PostPosted: Wed May 01, 2019 10:28 pm 
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3. Flaming O

Joined: Sun Jan 19, 2014 6:01 am
Posts: 109
Dibs! :whip
I love this new story. You give us a beautiful insight into Tara's inner turmoil. The imagery you paint with your words is very rich. The term "bermuda-triangle smile" really got stuck in my head.
I'm really looking forward to the next chapter.


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - NEW 4/30/19 (PG13-NC17)
PostPosted: Sun May 05, 2019 9:54 am 
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2. Floating Rose
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Posts: 41
Ugh, so good. I'm right there with WIll's,
Quote:
The term "bermuda-triangle smile" really got stuck in my head.
this was just lovely. I really enjoy the way you portray Tara's inner monologue and how she's constantly battling with her own inner demons ... no pun intended. lol Cant wait for the seconds part.

_________________
"No drinking, no drugs, no kissing, no tattoos, no peircing, no ritual animal slaughterings of any kind...oh GOD I'm giving them ideas!"


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - NEW 4/30/19 (PG13-NC17)
PostPosted: Wed May 08, 2019 9:05 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 10:37 am
Posts: 384
Topics: 3
Location: New York
Will's redemption wrote:
Dibs! :whip
I love this new story. You give us a beautiful insight into Tara's inner turmoil. The imagery you paint with your words is very rich. The term "bermuda-triangle smile" really got stuck in my head.
I'm really looking forward to the next chapter.


Thanks so much for your feedback! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. I'm also please to know that the Bermuda Triangle smile reference was a success. I had been debating whether or not to keep it. Part 2 should be up either tonight or tomorrow and I sure hope it doesn't disappoint.

P.s., I'm pretty sure that's the first dibs I've ever gotten on a fic :blush

_________________
Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - NEW 4/30/19 (PG13-NC17)
PostPosted: Wed May 08, 2019 9:11 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 10:37 am
Posts: 384
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*WILLOW* wrote:
Ugh, so good. I'm right there with WIll's,
Quote:
The term "bermuda-triangle smile" really got stuck in my head.
this was just lovely. I really enjoy the way you portray Tara's inner monologue and how she's constantly battling with her own inner demons ... no pun intended. lol Cant wait for the seconds part.


Thank you for you're feedback. I'm pleasantly surprised and quite happy to know that the "Bermuda triangle smile line resonated so well. But to be completely honest, I love Alyson Hannigan's smile so I might have been projecting my own inner feelings. lol The next part should be up later today or tomorrow, so I hope you enjoy that chapter just as much.

_________________
Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - NEW 4/30/19 (PG13-NC17)
PostPosted: Thu May 09, 2019 10:22 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 10:37 am
Posts: 384
Topics: 3
Location: New York
• Title: When Love Arrives
• Author: mmmh-Hot-Sauce
• Distribution: Anyone can have it if they want.
• Spoilers: None AU
• Rating: PG13 - NC17
• Pairing: W/T
• Summary: Tara's thought's from 'New Moon Rising' when Oz shows up.
Disclaimer: This is a sequel to 'Blackouts and Breakthroughs' ... it'll be broken up into three parts.



***


Part 2 - "Deja-vu'
Somewhere between R and NC17

***


I’m not sure how long I had lain like this. My face buried in the pillow as I hugged it forcefully to my chest, savoring the scent that I’m positive I’ll never smell again. At some point from when I first grabbed the pillow till now my tears had stopped, replaced by a throbbing headache. The pounding so loud that I nearly mistook it for the knocking on my door. The idea of ignoring whoever was on the other side seemed tempting but my heart was tugging me towards the door, telling me that I needed to answer it. Gradually, I make my way across the room, turning the knob with nimble fingers only to have the breath knocked out of me.


Over the past ten weeks, I’ve never gotten tired of seeing this sight. Her, in all of her radiance; standing on the other side of the threshold, her hair illuminated by the florescent lights, creating a halo on the crown of her red tresses. Just the presence of her sends my heart a flutter; it’s playing hopscotch inside of my chest. But it’s soon replaced; a new sense of dread takes over as I see her crestfallen features, my heart no longer fluttering as it sinks rapidly into the pit of my stomach. I’m sure I’m about to hear the four worst words in the English language. We need to talk. I’m positive that this will be the last time she’ll come to my room. That this will be the last time I see her. The last time her heart belongs to me.


Her voice, soft and timid breaks my revere. I mimic her hushed greeting, my own voice just as weak as I say “Hi”. Words seem to have eluded me; instead I wave her inside of my room, wordlessly inviting her in. Something I haven’t had to do in a long time. She takes a few steps before turning to speak to me, telling me she’s not staying long due to class. I once again mimic her, letting her know that I have class too through a harsh stutter. How I hate when my nerves get the better of me.


Before the words have completely left my mouth, she’s talking again, her own nervousness matching mine as she rings her hands together. She tries to reassure me about this morning, her gentle soul trying to find a compassionate way to describe the event. No doubt to let me down gently. The words though are too hard to hear so I cut her off. I try to steal my nerves as I let her know what has been plaguing me all along. That if Oz was to ever come back, she would leave.


Again, compassionate, gentle, reassuring, she tells me they were just talking. “Nothing happened.” Those words, they elect a small spark inside of me, a glimmer of hope. The briefest of smiles graces my lips as I look into her sparkling emerald green eyes. “Really?” escapes my mouth before I have the proper time to digest her words. Again, a hopeful smile crosses my lips as she nods her head. But it soon falters as she adds a clause; that their conversation was intense. Jealousy seeps through me at her declaration. She once again reiterates that they were only talking, no doubt to put my mind at ease. But the fact that she mentions Oz and her have a lot to talk about makes me worry even more.


I struggle for a moment. Not entirely sure what to say in regards to her statement. I close my eyes momentarily to focus on the speech I had planned to say to her earlier, on the words that need to be shed. Prying my eyelids open, I look into her glistening green eyes and inform her that we will always be friends, no matter the outcome. I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of her rebuttal. “Of course we will always be friends!”


I falter for a moment as I look at her downturned eyebrows, her expression one of befuddlement. It kills me to see her like this, so distraught. I try to make it easier for her, to make the breakup smoother. “I know what Oz means to you.” I’m thinking for the next words to say but I’m left crestfallen as I watch her face crumble even further, unshed tears billowing in her eyes. I want to run to her, to sweep her up in a hug that I’ll never let go of. Instead I stand rooted to this spot, just watching her fall apart.


“How can you, when I’m not even sure?” This catches me off guard. How can someone who color codes their entire life not know what they want. I cautiously take a step towards her as she continues to ramble. Her words inciting in me another spark of hope. “I changed, and … then we-“there’s a quiver in her voice that has not gone undetected.


I feel the word leaving my mouth more than I hear it. “What?” The word so softly spoken I’m not sure she even registered what I said. But her eyes start watering again, tears dripping from the corner of her eyes to roll agonizingly slow down her red flushed cheeks. Her ramble is more coherent this time, more so then it has ever been. Through a pause in her babble I watch her sigh heavily before stepping closer to me, tenderly gripping my hands. I want to take a step back to give her space but my shoes feel like they have been filled with lead all-the-while my head feels like it’s full of helium; especially when she says that I’m a big part of her life getting better.


Once again my throat feels constricted as I struggle to swallow. She’s so close, I can smell her shampoo. Cherry blossoms and rain. Her voice is quivering so badly now, her emotions lying bare as she admits to me her fears. I don’t know where to look, I keep adverting my attention to objects around the room. But the sight of her crying, the tears free flowing now down her face keeps bringing me back to her. Always to her.


“I wanna know, but I don’t.” Her words, so meek, so fragile penetrate my heart. I can’t help but to give her a sympathetic look as I watch her breakdown further. It’s destroying me from the inside out to watch her fall apart. Instinctively, I reach a hand up to brush away her tears, her skin feels so smooth under my caress that I savor it, etching it to memory. The sadness ebbing out of her is almost overwhelming, tingling my fingertips. I feel numb, overwhelmed by grief. I can’t live if she’s not happy … and I can’t live if she cries. I just look at her and know what needs to be done. “Do what makes you ... h-h-happy.” But I can live without her if it makes her smile.


I never see her cross the distance between us, only feel her arms embracing me, holding me tight as tears cascade down onto my shirt; dampening the fabric. She buries her face in the crook of my neck, her breath tickling my flesh. It feels like deja-vu. My arms come up to wrap around her back halfheartedly, stroking her silky tresses. The feeling of her body pressed against mine, the smell of her hair under my nose, it’s all almost too unbearable. It feels like my heart is breaking in half; that poisoned butterflies are taking their last flutters in the pit of my stomach.


Before I can pull back, to disentangle myself from my own personal hell, I feel her lips softly press against my throat. My body stiffens as her feather light touches continue. Bit by bit, I feel her lips travel upwards to my ear, her hot breath unconsciously making my body tremble. My eyes flutter shut when she gently sucks on the bulb of my ear. A war is now raging inside of me, my brain telling me to pull back but at the same time my heart is screaming to relish the moment … to pull her tighter.


I do just that. One hand coming up to nestle in her copper mane while the other slinks lower; gripping her waist. She’s now on my jaw, having abandoned the tender flesh of my ear. Her kisses are chaste, seemingly nonexistent as her lips glide along my skin, never stopping long enough in any one place. After an agonizingly slow show of affection, she finally reaches the corner of my mouth, her lips hesitating there. Courageously, I shift my head just slightly, brushing my lips daintily over hers.


It was all that it took, that simple gesture. Her lips were now firmly planted on mine, hungrily devouring as her hands positioned themselves on either side of my face. Instinctively, in a well memorized dance, I open my mouth to her. The warm, supple muscle tasting me fully as it glided past my teeth. The feeling of her tongue slipping inside of my mouth is like heaven. Her kiss is so distracting that I never even felt her pushing me backwards until I connected soundly with the closed door.


Almost instantly, she is pressed flush against my body, her lithe thigh pushing my legs apart. I know I should end this before it gets too out of hand but the feeling of her all over me is too overwhelming. I pull her tighter, rejoicing in the feeling of her muscular thigh pressed firmly against me, pushing upwards, eliciting a familiar feeling. Her hands leave my face only to reposition themselves seconds later at my hips. Her fingers needing my flesh as she rocks into me, her hips moving like a piston, slow at first but gradually gaining speed. Her wanton need is becoming evident. I feel the heat radiating out of her skirt, her wetness soaking the cotton of my pants. All rational thoughts have left my mind, leaving me a euphoric mess.


I move my hand that’s been cupping her waist to her stomach, deftly lifting the fabric of her shirt. Her skin feels hot to the touch, igniting a new passion inside of me. Nimbly, I feel myself pulling on the buttons of her sweater, sliding the material over her shoulders until it cascades to the floor, forgotten. As she continues to rock, dry humping my leg, I glide my hand under her shirt and up her torso to her bra clad chest, squeezing the delectable flesh. I feel her chest heave as her nipple hardens under my caress. I want more of her. To feel more of her. I roughly push her bra up, feeling the soft tissue rest against the palm of my hand.


The moan that escapes her lips send shivers down my spine. I keep up my ministrations, massaging her breast as she rocks into me feverishly, my own hips mirroring hers. We stayed like that for what felt like a life time, just grinding into each other, our bodies so flushed that they were practically merging together. I start to feel her tense up; her hips are moving faster as her kisses start to slow down. She’s no longer claiming my mouth. Her lips are now desperately trying to make contact; her hot breath basking over my skin as her teeth scraped over my top lip at irregular intervals. I feel her lips barely grazing mine as her jaw spasms, her breath husky as it came out in short, jagged gasps


I smell her release before I feel it wash over me, the muscles in her thigh tightening as she is engulfed in euphoric bliss. Her lithe body continues to tremble against mine for several seconds as her leg involuntarily twitches from her powerful release. The feeling is agonizingly beautiful. Her face is agonizingly beautiful. Our lips are still millimeters apart; I feel her breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down with every inhalation. As the sound of her harsh panting returns to normal, I once again feel her lips crashing into mine. Her hands coming up to grip my hair as her hips once again started bucking into mine.


We’ve done this before, having reached this level in our relationship a few weeks back, heavy petting and dry humping. It never passed that though; our relationship still too new, still flourishing, mixed with our own trepidation to take it further. But this time her movements are different, frenzied, like she’s saying goodbye through her body. Regretfully I push her back, our lips the last to separate as I hold her waist at arm’s length away from me. She takes several small stumbling steps backwards, a mixture of embarrassment, rejection, and guilt etching her features as she processes what just happened. I scan her heavily dilated eyes; I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for, but I see the wheels behind her colorful eyes turning.


“We’re late for class.” It’s all she says to me as she surges forward, reaching for the doorknob. I numbly move away from the door so she can open it and wordlessly watch her go. I don’t think I’m quite ready to say goodbye. I want to call out to her, to stop her from fleeing, but I don’t trust my voice. Instead I retrieve her discarded sweater from off of the floor, holding it close to my chest as I inhale the scent that she’s patented. An aroma I want to relish in for the rest of my life. A sense of irony washes over me as I cradle her sweater; I’m just now realizing I’m in love with her. I mirthlessly chuckle to myself as I think how tragic that is; she more than likely won’t be around to know it.


***


I arrived late to my lecture on Greek Mythology. The class had been underway for almost fifteen minutes before I was able to pull myself from my dorm room. Now sitting in the back row, one hour into a three hour class, I’ve realized that it was pointless for me to have even shown up. I spent the whole time so far clutching Willow’s sweater, fingering the embroidered flowers adorning the front. I can’t help but to reminisce about when we first meet and how it felt as though Pterodactyls were flapping their wings against the corridors of my stomach. I couldn’t help but to think about yesterday morning and how I listened to the rhythmic pattern of her heart and smiled. I was so enraptured by the redheaded goddess that has consumed my life for the past two and a half months that I was completely ignoring the actual goddess’s on the slideshow in front of me.


The notion that we had an exam next week on the subject at hand never even fazed me. I was too occupied on the sweater I was wearing. Willow’s sweater. I tried jotting down notes but everything keeps coming back to Willow. It only took a few minutes before I realized my notebook was starting to fill up with all the things my mouth couldn’t say. Now, consciously aware of what I’m doing, I try to write faster as more thoughts start whirling through my mind like a tornado. The path is set on destruction and my pen is surely to run out of ink.


The pages are rapidly filling. It’s turning into a long drawn out letter full of run on sentences and haphazard thoughts. Quickly switching from reason’s she should stay with me to reasons she should go back to Oz; to the person I’m sure will make her happy. I’m so engrossed in my writing that I didn’t notice that the class has finished. It isn’t until the door at the top of the staircase slams shut that I look up from my notebook. I’m the only person left in the room excluding the professor staring pointedly at me from the front of the class, his hands resting on his hips.

I give him a sheepish smile as I gather my belongings, stacking my notebook on top of my textbook. I pull the books close to my body, clutching them to my chest like makeshift armor as I hurry from the lecture hall. As I pass through the threshold into the now vacant hall, all I can think about is how hearts and stop signs are fraternal twins, lost in open roads and hollow chests.


***


It isn’t until I hear her name that I’m brought out of my reverie. Turning, I see him there, by the bulletin board that’s filled with upcoming events and meetings. He’s looking at me with this quizzical look on his face that I can’t quite decipher. Before I have a chance to pinpoint his emotion, he’s walking towards me, exclaiming that he thought he heard Willow.


A sense of dread washes over me as I take a glance at his hands. There, taunting me in maroon and yellow was a UC SunnyDale folder, no doubt filled with enrollment papers along with a booklet on available courses. I can’t help but clutch my books tighter to my chest as I ask him if he’s coming back to school. I watch as he slightly shrugs his shoulders and nonchalantly responds about being oddly motivated. I am once again consumed by jealousy.


As I continue to talk, unenthusiastically telling him how great his return to school will be for him and Willow, I notice his behavior changing slightly, his eyebrows knitting together. He starts to sniff the air lightly around me, confusion once again washing over his features as his eyes penetrate into mine. Nervous by his attentive stare, I continue to stutter over my words until he interrupts me.


“Is that her sweater?” I tilt my head down, silently pleading for this encounter to end. The words are still tumbling out of my mouth even though they don’t sound sincere. He must sense my hesitancy as he steps closer, his eyebrows still furrowed together as he tells me that I smell like her. That Willow’s scent is all over me. I can’t help but to think about what transpired between us merely three hours ago in my dorm room, my thigh pressing firmly against her molten hot center.


Through my defeated posture, I occasionally flick my eyes up to look at him, noticing that he’s getting angry due to my lack of response. “I can't. I-I can't talk about this” I try to plead with him as I turn to walk away only to feel his hand tightly grab my arm, squeezing it firmly.


His voice is angrier now, demanding. “But there's something to talk about?” I can’t contain the gasp that escapes my mouth as I stare at him through frightened eyes. His questions are hitting home on a subject I don’t have the right to disclose. I try to plead with him again, telling him I need to go but he’s not having it. His tone is becoming accusatory, his words laced with an undertone of malice.


I start to walk away from him once more, but he blocks my path, grabbing me this time with both of his hands; his fingers fastening around my biceps. I begin to panic as he squeezes my arms, shaking me as he screams, requesting an answer I can’t give him. It seems that as quickly as he grabbed a hold of me he lets go, panting heavily. Looking down at his hands, I watch petrified as he slowly begins to grow fur and claws. It’s only when his gruff voice breaks me out of my trance, telling me to run, do I actually start to comprehend the severity of the situation.


I have maybe a ten second head start before I hear the sounds of claws scrapping against linoleum. Dropping my books, I run as fast as I can to the nearest classroom. As soon as I enter the lecture hall, Oz in full werewolf form is two steps behind me. Sprinting to the staircase, I dash to the top level, b-lining for the secondary exit. I don’t think my heart has ever raced this fast in my life; it seems as if it is trying to chisel its way out of my chest.


Gripping the doorknob, I’m instantly met with resistance. Panic stricken, I continue an attempt to get the door open, all the while thoughts of Willow flash before my eye. Regret immediately overwhelms me as I think of how I should have confessed my love to her sooner. How I should have kissed her sooner. How I should have fully accepted her advances earlier. Regret is pumping through my veins as I sprint back down the staircase with the werewolf hot on my heels.


The inevitable fear of death takes hold of me as I back myself into the corner, a plastic chair my only weapon. Desperately, I throw the piece of furniture at him; shocked when I see Oz’s body crumble to the ground. It’s only when I stand there panting, my heart and thoughts returning to a normal pace, do I realize that there is a tranquilizer dart sticking out of the werewolf’s back.

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion now as the adrenalin rush dissipates. Riley and several of his Initiative colleagues are everywhere seemingly out of nowhere, swarming the werewolf’s motionless body. I ask what’s going on but I get a dismissive answer. I watch helplessly as they start to put Oz into a black body bag. I try to tell Riley that the werewolf is a person but my stutter hinders me, allowing for one of the soldiers to interrupt and inevitably brush off my statement. I try one more feeble attempt at telling them that the monster is Oz however all I get out is a meek “but” before they’re out the door. A ‘no’ escaping my lips as the door swings shut behind them.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - PART 2 5/9/19
PostPosted: Sat May 11, 2019 7:39 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs

Joined: Fri Aug 07, 2009 5:33 pm
Posts: 493
Location: North Carolina, USA
OMG you have such a way with words. This was great. I am not very good at giving feedback. It tends to be choppy and short. I love you writing and look forward to reading more.
Thanks :clap

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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - PART 2 5/9/19
PostPosted: Thu May 16, 2019 4:56 am 
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3. Flaming O

Joined: Sun Jan 19, 2014 6:01 am
Posts: 109
I love your style of writing! Again a few phrases got stuck in my head, like:

Quote:
poisoned butterflies are taking their last flutters in the pit of my stomach.


and

Quote:
all I can think about is how hearts and stop signs are fraternal twins, lost in open roads and hollow chests.


Again my heart ached for Tara, I wanted to hug her and tell her "Hold on, before the end of the day Willow will choose you over him!"
Now I'm really looking forward to your take on the famous "extra-flamey candle"-scene. :wtkiss :flower


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - PART 2 5/9/19
PostPosted: Mon May 20, 2019 8:55 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 10:37 am
Posts: 384
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Location: New York
taranwillow4ever wrote:
OMG you have such a way with words. This was great. I am not very good at giving feedback. It tends to be choppy and short. I love you writing and look forward to reading more.
Thanks :clap


:blush Aww, thank you. And you're feedback is perfect, I really appreciate it. The next installment should be up by the end of the week.

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Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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 Post subject: Re: When Love Arrives - PART 2 5/9/19
PostPosted: Mon May 20, 2019 9:02 am 
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6. Sassy Eggs
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Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 10:37 am
Posts: 384
Topics: 3
Location: New York
Will's redemption wrote:
I love your style of writing! Again a few phrases got stuck in my head, like:

Quote:
poisoned butterflies are taking their last flutters in the pit of my stomach.


and

Quote:
all I can think about is how hearts and stop signs are fraternal twins, lost in open roads and hollow chests.


Again my heart ached for Tara, I wanted to hug her and tell her "Hold on, before the end of the day Willow will choose you over him!"
Now I'm really looking forward to your take on the famous "extra-flamey candle"-scene. :wtkiss :flower



Thank you for you're feedback. I am very glad that you are enjoying this 'behind the scene' story so much. The first time I had ever watched this episode I was so heartbroken for Tara, thinking that not only was Willow gonna choose Oz, but she was left on the back burner for hours if not days, with no one to confide in but her own inner turmoil.

The next installment should be up by the end of the week ... I sure hope I don't disappoint on the 'extra-flamey candle' scene.

_________________
Alyson, oh, Alyson why don´t you join my band? So you could play the flute like this one time in band camp.
I Am Forever / How I Met My Lover / Street Fighters / Paid To Get Excited / Pick My Partner / A Special Christmas of Sorts


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