Hey!
Sorry, this update is up a little later than i intended, i had hoped to post this morning, but last night i ended up sleeping at my friends, and then i had a soccer game this morning...
But i finished it, finally. You'll have to forgive me for any grammar errors in here, I usually wait about an hour after i finish a chapter, then read it again, so i can see what i missed.
But i wanna get this thing up, and i have to leave for another sleepover in about thirty minutes (my soccer team won, now we get to go TPing.)
Anyway, here you go, hope you like it!
Any thoughts on it would be appreciated!
Pheonix: Hehe thank you. Glad you liked Tara's thoughts and the alien line. And yes, care will be needed for an injured Tara, whole reason i had her fall.
hope you like the next part!
-michelle
warning: there is an attempt at willow-babble in here, the first time i've tried. feel free to yell at me profusely if i screwed it up even more than i thought i did.
Ch. 2
A look of concern flashes across, but does not mar, the beauty of her face. Her green eyes sparkle with worry as she hurriedly untangles her limbs from mine, her reassuring warmth lifting from my body. I have to bite my lip to halt the groan of pain, quickly turning to one of disappointment at the loss of contact, my skin still tingling in all of the places it brushes against hers while she moves.
“Are you okay?”
I nod slowly, my mind still caught in between shock and a humming, energy filled giddiness at the feel of her body pressed so fully against mine. My breath comes shakily as I try to stand, grimacing at the pain accompanying any pressure put on my leg.
Her slim arms slip underneath my shoulders as I start to fall back towards the floor and she pulls me inelegantly up onto the bed.
Being close to her is nothing new, it hasn't been for years, but, as her hands lock around my stomach, bunching up the fabric of my t-shirt, and her knees graze my sides as we sit down again, my already overloaded mind stops functioning and the air catches in my throat. My head is spinning at exactly how being so near to her makes me feel.
But something is wrong here; usually she would be making some joking comment about my clumsiness- which I would know she has called adorable three times in the past six months… if I was counting. If I was seriously hurt, she would be babbling incessantly in that maddeningly cute way of hers, but now she's just staring ahead, with a glazed look in her eye and drawn expression on her face, deep in thought.
Not that I'm complaining. No matter how much I adore Willow-babble, her preoccupation, whatever it is, means that she doesn't get up from where she pulled me onto the bed, leaving my legs and shoulders to quiver where her knees and hands are driving me crazy with light, prolonged moments of contact.
But even through the wonderful buzzing that has occupied my mind since I first felt her illustrious curves fall into place on top of me, I have to wonder what she is thinking about.
My heart leaps into my throat as I turn to catch a glimpse of her face. Her features have now been moved into positions of unease, her eyes betraying great indecision and conflict. Her teeth move to gently bite her inviting bottom lip in concentration as she looks for her answers in the wall in front of me, empty except for a few pictures of us from years before.
My mind searches frantically for something else that she could be considering, but the signs are damning.
I just pulled her down directly on top of me, and she'd have to have been pretty distracted to not notice exactly how breathless, among other things, that it made me. Now I'm sitting awkwardly on my own bed with her, trembling wherever she touches me. And she's thinking hard about something, something that obviously distresses and confuses her. There's only one explanation for this, as far as I can see.
She's guessing what I feel. On the first morning that I have been able to fully accept the depth of my feelings for her, she is discovering them.
Just the thought of the expression I know that will appear on her face any moment is enough to make my eyes sting with unshed tears; I don't think I can handle it right now. I will never be able to handle losing her; she has become everything to me, all that I live for, in these past months.
It's too much. I have to delay her, in any way I can, before my whole, delicately built world comes crashing down around me.
“Willow?” She must sense something in my voice, some urgency that isn't usually there, because she is immediately pulled off of her runaway train of thought.
“What are you thinking about?” It's funny how the situation is reversed now, with her running off into the analysis zone, and me guessing what she is thinking about.
She even blushes and stutters in a mirror-image of me earlier that morning, muttering something almost guiltily about wondering if my leg is hurt very badly. I have to struggle not to laugh at how cute her embarrassment is, how similar our thoughts seem to be… but this thought brings me crashing back down to earth.
Our thoughts are in no way similar. I was spending my imagination time fantasizing about the love for her that fills me so completely, while she was thinking about…
What was she thinking about? If she had actually been considering what I had thought just a minute ago, why would she be so discomfited, almost culpable at my question?
Her thoughts are a mystery to me for the first time since… well, forever. I can tell that there is something missing here, something I should be picking up on, but I can't place it.
I turn to look at her again, hoping to read into at least one of the many conflicting emotions that battle in her eyes and on her face, and find them much closer than I had counted on as she too moves her head to study me. We both blush a little and look down, but she recovers quickly when she notices the tears, still sparkling unshed in my eyes.
“Tara, what's wrong?” Her voice is so full of caring and worry that I am forced to lift my head to once again look her in the eye.
“Oh my god, is your leg okay? Did it get hurt? Is it broken? Or sprained, cuz I've heard that it can hurt worse if it's sprained. Can you even sprain your leg, or is it just ankles and stuff? But, you're crying, and, it hurts, so, so, we have to do something. Do you need ice? Or should we elevate it? No, that can be bad, I think I read that somewhere. But that might be for bleeding. The bad part, I mean. If only I'd paid more attention in first aid, but the class was so boring, and now you're not gonna be able to use your leg, and it's all my fault, and-”
“Willow, sweetie.” I cut her off, so enchanted with her babbling that I don't even realize that I have switched back into my old way of talking; I'd call her sweetie all the time, before that day so long ago. For some reason this makes her grin hugely, even through her anxious fret.
“It's not your fault. I tripped over the stuffed animal.” I look down curiously to see which one of the toys had tripped me earlier. I'm going to have to make it a special place on my bed, maybe a shrine if I have the energy later.
“Besides, I'm not that badly hurt. I could probably even walk with some help.” The last part of the sentence comes out too fast for me to stop it, my ears turning slightly red at the thought of the 'assistance' I am implying, not to mention the mild, almost flirtatious undertone that surprises me by working it's way into my voice as I finish the sentence. I can only hope, that she takes it as simple teasing.
The corners of her eyes crinkle in confusion.
“But then what's with the teary eyes?” There is more concern in her voice than ever now, making it that much harder to lie to her.
“Oh, nothing. It hurt a minute ago, when I first got up, but it's better now.” My heart is wilting like a dying rose; I can't even be honest with her anymore. This is what all my love for her brings me to: lying. I hate the empty, low feeling it leaves in the pit of my stomach; this is the first time I have lied to her since we met.
She seems not to notice my discomfiture or lifeless posture, only continuing on with her earlier monologue as I sit on the bed.
“Okay then. We can go down to the school to meet up with Buffy. We were gonna go skiing, but that's pretty much out of the question, with your ankle and all. I can help you walk there.”
Why is it that my ears have to heat up so quickly at her suggestion? She's bound to notice something, all the accidental signs I've been sending out this morning are pretty conclusive. But instead her face too turns slightly red, and she looks down to nervously pick at one of her nails, her hands resting in her lap.
I can feel the sweet rush of relief that she did not discover me this morning flooding my senses, but with it is an unexpected sinking in my chest.
I am almost disappointed that she didn't add everything up in the few short minutes that she's been here. Am I really that weak, that I would like to expose myself to her, just to stop hiding?
Or am I being selfish, hiding it all, enjoying the essential benefits of her friendship, all the while betraying her with a smokescreen?
Am I lying to her each morning that she comes into my room, through the open window, filling my heart and letting me into her life? Is it wrong for me to constantly deceive her, even if the truth would tear us apart?
All of the questions flood my mind, a moral war raging inside of my soul as she stands up. My conscience screams unheard in my ears as she gestures for me to lean against her shoulder.
I hold a blank face, one I have perfected over the months, and let her warmth seeping through my clothes silence the voices clamoring to be heard in my head, her caring a blanket of comfort allowing me to put the battle off until another day.
And she will never sense any of it.
"Love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, and trusting them not to."
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at: 10/26/03 5:33 pm
let them have the happy ending that I didn't get to have.
Michelle,
Dont suppose you really wanna update in the next 4 hours or so do ya? I gotta go out and want my fix b4 I go! lol
becuz you replied first (i have seen other authors do that and it looked fun). Thank you for the in-depth reply! to answer your questions, i will continue the story from Tara's POV; although i did consider switching back and forth. 
your sig (big michelle branch fan) thanx for reading!
wow thanx! glad you liked it! i can promise you a happy ending (like you said, it's Willow and Tara) and also am sorry for the happy ending you didn't get. Thanx for the kind words!
... the good thing about that is that Willow can take care of her, heh. Poor Tara, she's not really repressing her thoughts about Willow she more or less punishing herself for having those thoughts. Can't be fun to go on and on like that, nor is it possible to keep it going forever.
oh well I guess i'll just have to try harder. Can't wait till next update. Please keep it coming. 
.
