He welcomed death. Never in over 200 years had he so wanted a visit from the Grim Reaper. If his heart could beat, could violently pound or burst, it would have done him in earlier that morning when he'd laid wrapped in her powerful yet frozen embrace. *She was so innocent, so giving.*
He stood wearily facing east overlooking the small town she had protected with her life. Cradled in his arms, he tightly held his lifeless burden. She was no longer with him. The shell of the woman he had dedicated his existence to was gone. He gazed at her peaceful face. It betrayed no sign of the turmoil she had endured prior to her death.
There, at the outskirts of Sunnydale, the demon stood weeping onto the body of his lost salvation. *She loved this view* his conscience whispered, bringing a bittersweet smile to his tight lips. It was fitting they should watch this last sunrise together, here, in their place. He gently kissed her forehead as yet another blood tear rolled down his cheek onto her milky-white skin. This was all the connection he had to her now. This moment.
Memories of her smile accosted his senses. Her goodness and love had allowed her to see past the demon to the soul beneath. She had peered into his horrible "true" face and found only beauty. When she'd kissed him so passionately at the ice arena, she'd known he was Satan's stepchild, yet she had calmed the demon within him without fear. Her contented sighs had bathed him in unconditional love.
*She loved me!* He had never once understood that impossibility but had rejoiced in it nonetheless. Never, since the dawning of time, had a vampire been the recipient of a Slayer's affection. It was the Slayer's sacred duty to seek out and destroy all of the undead, yet she had refused to take his life, such as it was, on more than one occasion. His tears fell harder as he remembered her resolve, even when it appeared he had harmed her mother. He was a demon, unfit to live. A hundred years ago, he had found a purpose to his meaningless existence. Thanks to a gypsy curse, he had become an avenging angel instead of the angel of death. Yet, for all the wrongs he had righted in the last century, he could not escape what he was - a spawn of Satan.
The illuminating rays of the sun began to shine in the distance. Dawn was rapidly approaching. Soon the ultraviolet beams of light would beat brightly overhead. He made no move to shelter himself. "This morning, I will join you in death, Buffy," he spoke to her still form. His promise was carried to the street below on the breeze. He gently laid her on the ground and smoothed her hair with his hand. Kissing her lips delicately, he spoke again softly, his breath warming her cold lips. "I know I will not be with you in this next life. The atrocities I've committed here on earth have damned me to an eternity in hell. But remember always, Buffy, I love you. I will love you forever."
His short brown hair moved slightly with the morning breeze. Still he spoke, hoping against hope, that somehow, his words would reach her. "May God be merciful on my soul. I dared to love you and instead of worshiping you from afar, I slithered up beside you. I killed you!" His black shirt was soaked as the red flow of blood brutally streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry. You were life to this demon called death," he choked out. The sun's ascension did not falter at his words but relentlessly pursued its climb to the sky. He could feel his skin tingling and for a moment the searing of his flesh interrupted his thoughts. The beast within his mind screamed for him to take cover, but Angel would not move from his kneeling position beside the woman he loved.
In his final action, he laid beside her, wrapping his arms around her. A final entreaty to the Maker gushed from his tormented soul, begging for intervention. As he slowly lost consciousness, before the sun turned him to ash, Angel saw his beloved. Her arms were outstretched towards him beckoning him forward. She was magnificent, standing in the clouds in a gown of white with her hair flowing in the gentle breeze. He did not question her presence, nor hesitate to enter her embrace. He felt the warmth of her lips on his and smiled with contentment. He could endure hell now.
The love of his life forgave him.
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