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Fic: Aftermath (Perfect Possible; Willow and Xander)
A great movie is one that lasts. A movie that you want to watch again, and when you do, it still hits you in your heart and mind.
Moulin Rouge is a great movie. I've seen it more times that I've counted and I always get just as caught up in it. I get swept into this world of color and passion and pain, and I just live there until the movie releases me. Every single time, it's a roller coaster of joy and grief.
Return of the King is a great movie.
But that, really has nothing to do with my primary purpose - fic.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
redredshoes asked for Willow&Xander, not necessarily romantic, just something that showed their deep connection. So this is a short post-Chosen snippet - Perfect Possible 'verse.
Aftermath
"We're alive." His voice was rough now, from the crying that he hadn't wanted her to see.
Willow glanced over at Xander, the eyepatch still a jolt. She rubbed her arms to stop a shiver. "Yeah, we are."
They'd been like this for the last couple of hours - just sitting mostly, not talking a lot. The erratic bumping of the bus was familiar, for all that it wasn't the same kind as the ones that they'd ridden on ages ago when Sunnydale High had been old. But the feeling of it was the same, and she could almost taste the memories.
Riding back from the Zoo, knowing that something was wrong with a quiet Xander. A quiet Xander had never led to good things, at least not in Willow's experience. She bit her lip to keep it still and very deliberately reached over to slid her hand into Xander's. He looked over at her, understanding in his eye, and he carefully twisted his hand around, slipping his fingers inbetween hers, tightening their grip. She smiled, tremulously but genuinely.
Her gaze drank in his face, every speck of dirt and blood being carefully noted and filed away. Even with all that, he was still as beautiful as he'd been the day when she'd realized that she really loved him. He'd never stopped being beautiful, even when she'd stopped wanting him.
It was right, the two of them, here together, after the world hadn't ended. Big things were going to be happening soon, but as long as they still had this, she knew that she'd be okay.
She squeezed his hand and scooted closer, relaxing against his shoulder.
They were both still alive, and that was enough.
~fade to black~
Moulin Rouge is a great movie. I've seen it more times that I've counted and I always get just as caught up in it. I get swept into this world of color and passion and pain, and I just live there until the movie releases me. Every single time, it's a roller coaster of joy and grief.
Return of the King is a great movie.
But that, really has nothing to do with my primary purpose - fic.
redredshoes asked for Willow&Xander, not necessarily romantic, just something that showed their deep connection. So this is a short post-Chosen snippet - Perfect Possible 'verse.Aftermath
"We're alive." His voice was rough now, from the crying that he hadn't wanted her to see.
Willow glanced over at Xander, the eyepatch still a jolt. She rubbed her arms to stop a shiver. "Yeah, we are."
They'd been like this for the last couple of hours - just sitting mostly, not talking a lot. The erratic bumping of the bus was familiar, for all that it wasn't the same kind as the ones that they'd ridden on ages ago when Sunnydale High had been old. But the feeling of it was the same, and she could almost taste the memories.
Riding back from the Zoo, knowing that something was wrong with a quiet Xander. A quiet Xander had never led to good things, at least not in Willow's experience. She bit her lip to keep it still and very deliberately reached over to slid her hand into Xander's. He looked over at her, understanding in his eye, and he carefully twisted his hand around, slipping his fingers inbetween hers, tightening their grip. She smiled, tremulously but genuinely.
Her gaze drank in his face, every speck of dirt and blood being carefully noted and filed away. Even with all that, he was still as beautiful as he'd been the day when she'd realized that she really loved him. He'd never stopped being beautiful, even when she'd stopped wanting him.
It was right, the two of them, here together, after the world hadn't ended. Big things were going to be happening soon, but as long as they still had this, she knew that she'd be okay.
She squeezed his hand and scooted closer, relaxing against his shoulder.
They were both still alive, and that was enough.
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Very, very nice.
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The erratic bumping of the bus was familiar, for all that it wasn't the same kind as the ones that they'd ridden on ages ago when Sunnydale High had been old.
Damn. That's great. And just what I wanted. Thank you again. ((feels inadequate))
moi
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Glad that you liked the bus bit - that was one of the parts that I rewrote a few times.
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moi
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