Part Two
Willow slipped out of bed and padded almost noiselessly across the room to the door. She reached out, putting her hand over the doorknob and instinctively looked back, to where the sleeping figure of her girlfriend lay in the bed, her blonde hair tousled out on the pillow underneath her head. Tara’s arm was flung over Willow’s half of the bed; the redhead had spent ten minutes easing herself out from underneath the other girl’s limb, not wanting to break the sound sleep that culminated in a steady, deep breathing pattern. All this time, even after two weeks of hardly moving; ceaseless crying and internal agonising, Tara was as loving and gentle as ever. It seemed like the blonde witch had returned from her dazed illusory madness to become the carer. Never in her life had Willow needed anyone more than she needed Tara right now.
The redhead opened the door and made her way towards the bathroom across the hall. The door closed behind her with a tiny click. But it was enough.
Tara opened her eyes. She had been awake for the last hour, sometimes alone with her thoughts, sometimes watching Willow’s restless sleeping; the way her mouth twitched and pulled downwards as she frowned and muttered unintelligible meanderings under her breath. Her heart heavy, Tara smoothed her hand back across the cotton sheets, still warm from where Willow had lain. Without acknowledging it fully, she felt the familiar lump rise up in her throat and prick at the back of her eyes. Two weeks. This had been a constant for two weeks. Sometimes Willow was okay; sometimes she seemed to snap out of it and almost be herself, but then something would remind her of what had happened; a song, a place, even some little phrase. And her defences would crash down, sinking her deeper into the tears that streamed silently from her eyes.
Turning over on her back, Tara crossed her hands over her stomach and sighed, kicking gently at the eiderdown. Of course she wanted to be there for Willow; that was a given. And she wasn’t planning on going anywhere soon, either. But…she mused, almost guiltily; grief just couldn’t be a permanent state. And in two weeks, Willow hadn’t gotten over Buffy’s death one little bit. In fact, the blonde sighed, tears springing to her cool blue eyes, she was getting worse. Little signs, infinitesimal signals that Willow was letting this take a hold of her and pull her down. Grief, Tara thought, yes, I knew all about grief. How it could destroy and ravage a soul so that it became a desolate landscape of pain that had nowhere to go. Yes, she and grief were old adversaries.
She turned over with her back to the middle of the bed and hugged the pillow to her face, trying to cry quietly. But the sadness inside of her was overbearing and her shoulders moved up and down as she took ragged breaths, punctuated by sighs of despair. Her Willow. Only, she wasn’t her Willow anymore. She was someone else, someone detached and cold. When they slept together, Willow hardly seemed to acknowledge Tara’s presence; she seemed to shy away from physical contact, allowing only what was necessary. A protective arm, shielded around her; or a gentle kiss goodnight on her forehead. It was as though Willow was dead, too.
As she approached the door to her room, Willow frowned, leaning in closer, straining her ears to hear properly. It was too early for other people to be up and about and daylight was making weak attempts to break through the bank of cloud hanging over Sunnydale. In the dim light, the redhead thought she heard noise coming from her room. Pressing her head against the cool wood of the door, she closed her eyes. Sobbing. It was sobbing. And it was coming from inside her room.
Entering swiftly, she rushed towards the bed; her eyes alight with an almost feverish glow. Tara’s face was buried in the pillow, whilst a tiny whimper came from her covered mouth.
“Tara? Wh-what’s wrong?” Willow sat behind her girlfriend and put out her hand to the other girl, lightly touching her shoulder. She winced as Tara flinched, raising her head from the pillow, not looking at her, turning her back.
“N-nothing. Go back to sleep.” Tara muttered, sniffing loudly and rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand.
“Can’t sleep. And I kind of don’t wanna if you’re lying there crying.” Willow didn’t mean to sound harsh, but her voice was pitched at a monotone that dulled everything she said these days. The corners of her mouth turned down in dismay as she saw her tone bite into the other girl, making her recoil as if from a blow.
“I’m sorry.”
No, Willow thought to herself, this is wrong. I don’t wanna argue. I don’t want us to fight. She reached out again, this time pulling Tara over so that she lay on her back, looking up at Willow with wet eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Willow asked again, feeling a chill from the morning on her bare legs, pulling the eiderdown up over herself as she scooted down in the bed to lie beside Tara. Confusion in the other girl’s eyes frightened her, sending a sharp line of ice all the way down to her heart.
“It’s…” Tara pressed her lips together in an attempt to stop herself from crying afresh. She looked over at Willow, frowning, her mouth working itself around the distress that washed over her face. She began again, “Willow, I’m really trying, I am. But I can’t…I don’t know when this is going to end…all of this…”
The fear began low in the pit of Willow’s stomach, binding and clenching at her so that she needed a couple of deep breaths in order to speak. It rose up her chest, crushing her lungs; bringing with it a terror of so many things, so many sorrows, and so many empty hopes. Trying her hardest not to cry, Willow stared at Tara, her eyes a sparkling emerald pricked with tears. “What do you mean?” she asked in a strangled tone, swallowing hard before speaking again, “When is this going to end? When is what ending?” Her voice rose to a panicked shrillness, tense and afraid against her own mind.
“Willow, please, listen to me,” Tara began softly, biting at the fleshy part of her lower lip, catching it between her teeth for a second before letting go. “Buffy’s gone. She’s gone. I know how you feel, I really do.” She paused, trying to put her words in the right order, trying to keep some semblance of control over what she said.
“All those times you thought you couldn’t understand how it feels to lose someone you love; well I know now that you do. But darling,” Tara’s hand crept out to cover Willow’s with her own underneath the covers, “I feel like I’ve lost you too.” Her mouth twitched with a sadness that was palpable, hanging between them like the dying tone of a death knell, “I feel like when Buffy died, something in you died with her. And I don’t know how to get that back. You told me that when I was lost, you’d find me, and you did. But I don’t know how to help you find your way back; I feel like sometimes you don’t want to come back. To me.”
“Tara?” Willow’s fingers crooked round to grasp Tara’s hand tightly, pressing the skin and bone together in a fierce grip. Her jaw jutted slightly, hardening a line to her eyes. “What do you mean? What’s going on here?”
The blonde averted her gaze, fixed it instead on a patch of light that wavered up and down the wall opposite her. The sun was struggling through the clouds, painting a yellow splodge on the wall; then disappeared. She returned her gaze to the girl in front of her, hanging on desperately to her hand. Tara wished that holding on were enough.
“Are you…are you trying to break up with me?” Willow’s tone was incredulous, wavering in agony for a split second before plunging into the chasm that was opening in her heart. She leant in towards Tara, so close that their faces were almost touching; her eyes searching, seeking for something, some kind of clue that would tell her otherwise. “Are you Tara? Don’t you wanna be with me anymore?”
Willow’s breath touched Tara’s cheek, a tiny sigh that carried the shackles of emotion, locked into her gaze. The blonde’s heart stilled for a moment, then continued beating when she listened carefully to the rhythmic stories it had to tell. Instead of an answer, she merely put her arms around the redhead, pulling her down onto the bed with her, wrapping her up in an embrace. She cradled the girl’s head against her shoulder, stroking the tousled hair with a trembling hand.
“Willow, ssh darling…of course I want to be with you. How could you think that?” Her voice was as gentle as the breeze that crept underneath the window, ruffling the silken scarf that doubled as a tablecloth on the little altar underneath it. Tara wanted to cry herself; just for a brief moment, she had imagined her life without Willow. And seeing it so clearly, so sharply and desolate, she had known then that it would never happen.
“But you said…” Willow’s voice was muffled against her shoulder.
“I know. And I meant it.” Tara paused for a minute, entwining her fingers in Willow’s hair, pulling out the strands that curled around her fingertips. “I want to be with you, but you haven’t been with me since Buffy died.” She noticed how the other girl froze momentarily at the mention of the Slayer’s name. “Not really,” she continued, her arm moving so that she could rub her hand up and down Willow’s back in a circular motion, “you’ve run away Will, and I don’t know how to find you again.”
The redhead pushed herself up onto one arm, leaning over her girlfriend, looking down into Tara’s serious blue eyes, paled with emotion. Her voice thick with sorrow, she tried out the words in her head, slowly and carefully, before giving them voice. “I want to live again. I do but…” her voice trailed to a raw whisper, “I don’t know how.”
Tara lifted a finger and lightly ran it down Willow’s cheek. “I wish there was something I could do.”
Reaching up to hold the other girl’s hand, Willow moved her head to one side and caught the fingers against her mouth, kissing them lightly. “Teach me,” she said, her eyes catching with the other girl’s gaze, “Please Tara, make me feel alive again.”
“I’m not sure what I make you feel anymore,” Tara said sadly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, blinking back the tears. She pulled her hand away from Willow’s mouth and hid it underneath the covers. “Sometimes I’m not sure I make you feel anything.”
“Of course you do!” Willow’s pained tone struck a chord deep in Tara’s heart. “You make me feel loved.” She moved closer to the other girl and put a hand on her heart, “You make my heart feel safe,” she moved her hand downwards, slowly whispering over the soft breast underneath Tara’s t-shirt, “You make me feel comforted,” she added, her hand moving down ever more, towards Tara’s stomach, where it stopped and lay, warm and firm. “You make me feel like I want to…” she halted abruptly, aware of the feelings flooding her body.
Tara knew, of course she did. Her eyes met Willow’s, startled and wide. The fire caught, suffusing old memories that lit in both girls’ minds at the same time. A myriad of emotions swept through them, shivering their way tantalisingly down spines and up legs and through fingers and…
“Please Tara.” Willow’s voice was thick with desire, her eyes darkening to a shadowed verdant green. “Make me feel alive again.”
Closing her eyes, Tara felt the need shudder through her, teasing at her nerve endings, swimming through her brain with a current that swept her out into Willow’s arms. Her breathing quickened; she felt a sheen of sweat threaten to ice her forehead and the aching between her legs throbbed mercilessly.
Willow’s hand crept up her body, pausing at her breasts, the fingertips brushing gently over her nipples, already stiffened. A sigh escaped the blonde and she almost gave in to it completely. But she brought her hand up and clutched Willow’s, preventing it from touching her.
“Are you sure?” she asked breathlessly.
The redhead gazed down at her, a hungry expression covering her face, predatory and eager. Her lips were slightly parted, reddened with yearning; her breathing shallow and fast.
“Tara, I want to feel alive again, like something matters. Like you used to make me feel.”
“But it’s been…” Tara paused, almost ashamed of her own want. “It’s been some time. I’m not sure now is right, for you…or for me.”
Willow bent down, pressing her lips to Tara’s own, kissing her hard and fast, pushing her tongue into the other girl’s mouth, eliciting a crazy kaleidoscope of passion that fuelled them both. She drew back, panting slightly. Had that been the first time since…? Remembering the events of the last month, Willow became painfully aware of just how long it had been. Judging by Tara’s reaction, she knew it too.
“I want you. Now. To make me feel…” Willow growled, her mouth inches away from Tara’s, her breath hot, her fingers curling around the other girl’s head, pulling her even closer, “To make me feel,” she finished, emphasising the last word by pressing her body against Tara’s.
“I don’t know if we should – “
“Yes.” Willow kissed her again, devouring her mouth with a finesse Tara had almost forgotten. Willow kisses. Willow lips. Willow mouth. Hot and wet and hungry.
Placing her hands on the redhead’s shoulders, Tara pushed her back with some difficulty. “No,” she gasped, feeling the familiar push of Willow’s hips against her own, so hard to resist, so tempting, so needy. “You need to – “
“I need you.” Willow’s hands circled Tara’s wrists, taking them from her shoulders and placing them above the other girl’s head on the pillow. She manoeuvred herself so that she was leaning over Tara, looking down at the other girl’s face, flushed and worried and yes, excited too.
She began by finding that spot on Tara’s neck that curved gracefully down to her collarbone. The tiny little hollow received the tip of her tongue almost gratefully, the skin yielding underneath her touch. She licked at it, tasting the salty texture of the skin, closing her eyes as the heat flooded down her body towards her groin. Tara let out a tiny whimper as Willow grazed her teeth against the skin, nipping it a little as she did so. The blonde girl struggled slightly underneath the redhead, trying to move her wrists. Willow tightened her grip, pushing them down onto the pillow, making indentations in the soft surface.
Raising her head, she met Tara’s eyes, still half astonished at the intent she saw on Willow’s face. A tiny smile inched the corners of Willow’s mouth up a little, “Am I hurting you?” she asked softly.
“No.” Tara squirmed slightly under the weight of her lover, wriggling her body so that Willow’s bounced up and down on her hips, pressing one pelvis against another with a surprisingly comforting contact.
“Shall I let go?” Willow murmured, dropping her head to Tara’s neck once more, nipping and sucking at the reddened patch where her mouth had previously been. The blonde whimpered again, this time sighing her way down to a low moan that seemed to emanate from the base of her throat. She pushed up against Willow’s hips once more. The redhead lifted her head and looked into Tara’s eyes, so close, mirroring her own reflection. “Well, shall I?” she prompted.
“Oh…no…no don’t let go…” Tara managed to say with some difficulty.
Willow’s grip tightened slightly on Tara’s wrists as she returned to her favourite spot on the other girl, this time kissing feathery points of sensitive pleasure up towards Tara’s ear. Reaching the top of the girl’s jaw line, she flicked her tongue around the back of the lobe, sweeping down underneath it to place a hard kiss on the skin there. Tara groaned again, letting out a whoosh of air from her lips, pushing up against Willow with a rather more firm thrust this time.
A tiny chuckle escaped Willow’s lips as she pressed firmly against Tara’s, pushing her tongue inside the other girl’s mouth, feeling the tension in her chest rise and flood her senses. She rubbed herself against Tara, feeling that the material of her panties was already wet. It seemed as though this was their first time; and in a way, it was, Willow thought. It had been a long time since Tara first got ill, after being attacked by Glory. And then, just as she returned, Buffy…
The thought sobered Willow. She drew back from Tara’s lips that were swollen and pouting. Sitting up, she straddled her girlfriend and let go of her wrists.
“Willow?” Tara opened her eyes, sensing nothing but fresh air in front of her face. Willow’s head was bowed, hiding her eyes. She let her arms hang down by her sides, unwilling to participate any longer. “Willow, what’s wrong?” Tara sat up and put her hands onto Willow’s thighs, smoothing down the skin there, rubbing gently with her palms.
“Doesn’t make sense.”
“Wh-what doesn’t sweetie?” Tara’s voice was soft, cajoling Willow like the song of a Siren. Closing her eyes, the redhead was momentarily swept away on the tender caress of both voice and hands. Then, a flash of the Slayer slipped into her mind, and she was back.
“When I remember. It doesn’t make sense,” she said haltingly. “It’s like I don’t remember anything else.”
Putting her arms around Willow’s tiny waist, Tara held her tightly, pushing her face against the other girl’s chest, breathing in her distinctive scent, knowing every curve, every contour of the body beneath the thin cotton t-shirt she was wearing.
“Then let me give you new memories,” she said gently, feeling Willow’s hands slide up to her head, fingers lacing themselves in her hair. “I love you Willow.”
“Oh god, I love you too Tara, I really do.” Willow pulled Tara’s hair so that the girl’s head lifted from her chest and looked down into the pure blue that stopped her heart every time she saw it. The shadow of a smile traced itself across Tara’s mouth, holding in it everything that Willow thought she had lost. Love. Pain. Comfort. Sorrow. Joy. And desire; desire leaping through her whole body, giving electric to her veins, pumping the blood in a dizzying fashion throughout her being.
Almost roughly, she bent her head and took Tara’s mouth in her own again, this time pushing her back onto the bed and falling on top of her. She hardly realised that she was moving until she found her own thigh in between Tara’s, pressing against the growing wetness that seeped through the other girl’s panties. She lifted herself up on her hands, hovering, it seemed above Tara’s body, feeling her nipples brush against the t-shirt she was wearing, already stiff and hard.
Moving to one side, she reached down and pulled at the hem of Tara’s t-shirt until it was pushed up to her neck, where she wrenched it over the other girl’s head and threw it to one side. A patch of red was blushing its way down Tara’s neck, towards where her body bloomed out and became breasts. Willow leant forwards and took a nipple in her mouth, delighting in the sharp intake of breath that came from somewhere above her head. She teased it with her tongue, flicking over the tip, before pinching it with her teeth, biting down.
Tara’s hips bucked upwards as she moaned loudly, her hand moving to the back of Willow’s head, pulling at her hair. It was almost painful, Willow thought, but the feeling reminded her that she was alive; that she was here; that she was loved, and loving. And it excited her beyond belief. Sucking the nipple into her mouth, the redhead felt her hand creep down to between Tara’s legs, one finger hooking over the waistband of her panties, sliding them down.
Once the girl was naked, Willow threw back the eiderdown and smiled. She had forgotten how beautiful Tara was, how the curves of her body that the blonde often complained about were so delightful. She reached out, trailing her hand lazily over Tara’s stomach, watching as Tara looked back at her, blinking in anticipation.
When Willow’s fingers gently parted her lips and reached for her clitoris, Tara closed her eyes, pressing her head back on the pillow, a long sigh escaping her mouth. No one had ever touched her like Willow; no one ever would. The thrill that started in the peak of her pussy travelled like wildfire up her body, suffusing her with warmth until her cheeks flushed red. Willow continued playing with her clit, moving on the bed, until Tara felt warm breath between her legs, then a tongue stroking her clit. She groaned, opening her legs wider, allowing Willow to kneel between them.
Pressing her mouth against Tara’s pussy, Willow breathed in the scent and tasted on her lips the nectar that she had craved for so long. Everything that assaulted her senses reminded her of happier times, of stolen kisses and hidden caresses that the two had shared for so long. The exhilaration moved her on, increasing her need to bring Tara to the place she knew they both belonged. She pushed her mouth further in, sucking on Tara’s clit that was now engorged and pulsing slightly.
“Willow…” Tara’s voice reached her as though from far away, dreamy and soft.
Lifting her head, Willow frowned, feeling Tara’s hands on her upper arms. “Tara, what is it? You don’t want to…?”
“No, I want you, here,” Tara put her fingers against her mouth, her other hand tugging slightly on Willow’s t-shirt. “I want you here now.”
Half-smiling, Willow sat up, pulling her shirt off over her head and wriggled out of her panties, finally naked. Tara urged her on, pushing at her thighs as the redhead turned, facing Tara’s feet. As she leant down, reaching with her mouth for Tara’s pussy, she felt a similar wetness in her own pussy, pushing inwards with a forceful thrust. She closed her eyes; hardly able to stop her legs from shaking, placed either side of Tara’s head.
She pushed into Tara with her tongue, feeling the wet, slick walls part to allow her entry. Fingers soon joined her tongue, thrusting inside, matched stroke for stroke by Tara’s own tongue and fingers. Soon they were moving in perfect rhythm, each moving their hips up and down, tasting, devouring one another as though they were starved. And I have been, Willow thought to herself, I’ve been without this for too long. She felt Tara’s pussy begin to pulse around her tongue, barely able to maintain contact as the juices covered her mouth and chin. She pressed her own pussy down on Tara’s mouth, as the buzzing in her ears grew louder and lights flickered in the back of her brain.
“Tara…” she moaned, grabbing the other girl’s thighs, pulling her closer. Tara’s fingers dug into her ass, pulling her down roughly onto her lips, sucking, eating, licking…and it became a flashing continuity of motion and senses, building towards the inevitable tension that was rising in Willow’s loins.
“Yes Willow, yes…” Tara gasped, bucking her hips, thrusting herself into an orgasm that rippled crazily through her body, into Willow’s and onto her own lips. As the redhead pressed herself down and let Tara drink from her, she jerked forward, falling into the abyss…then shooting out of into the light. I’m alive, she called in her mind, as her body sang and throbbed joy into Tara’s mouth. I’m alive again.
The End
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