Angel sat his window in his “office.” He admired the huge buildings and the stars above them. He loved how brightly the stars twinkled over LA. He couldn’t remember them being that bright in Sunnydale.
Is anything this bright in Sunnydale? He asked himself, hoping that there was something, for Buffy’s sake. He allowed his thoughts, for the first time in a long while, to turn to Buffy. He could see her when he closed his eyes, like a dream that couldn’t survive the harsh realities of real life. Angel allowed himself to slip deeper into his fantasy.
Sunshine was all around him, but there was no pain, no burning. The only thing he felt was the caress of warmth. Buffy was walking straight toward him. She looked ethereal and shined with her beauty. Her blonde hair bounced around her and she smiled a gently, coy smile. “ Welcome back Angel, darling.” She with her characteristic light voice.
Angel opened his eyes sadly, ending the dream. He knew things could never be that way. He closed his eyes for the second time and painful memories washed over him like a powerful tide, threatening to carry him away. In his mind he went with the current, and slipped back one year earlier. It was Buffy’s birthday and the “Scooby Gang” had a surprise birthday party planned for her. On the way to the party he had felt so peaceful, so content. Why shouldn’t he have been? The love of his life was turning eighteen and he had the perfect gift for her. He was apart of a group that he was beginning to think of as family. It wasn’t pure happiness he felt, but it was damn close. So close, that he should have known that he was getting too close. He hadn’t though. He was lulled into a false sense of security.
Things had gone horribly wrong at the party. He had come close to losing Buffy, given her his birthday present: a ring signifying he deep feelings for her, and then somehow, against his better judgment, found himself wrapped in her arms. That night, in that single second, Angel had been happier then ever before. He finally felt at peace with his secrets and himself. That’s when it happened. Everything Angel had worked at in himself went down the drain. It took him nearly a year to repair the damage of that night. It had been almost painful at times, making things right.
Now, it was Buffy’s birthday again. She was back in Sunnydale, with what’s his name, and Angel was in LA saving the world. Angel couldn’t help but remember all the pain from the year. The confusion, the sadness, the depression.
I hope she’s happy, he thought wondering what she was doing at that moment.
It had been so hard, being away from her. So many times he had almost let himself return to her and that hell hole town. The urge to hold her, and to see her smile had been great. So many times the rational side of him, the side that knew any relationship he had with Buffy was doomed, had stopped him from running back t her arms with his tale between his legs. It had hurt, hell, still hurt, but he did it for her and her alone.
“This is my present to you Buffy Summers. In a way I guess I’ve given you freedom. I’ve locked myself in a prison of my own hopes and dreams for you. Happy birthday, hunny.” He whispered to the stars.
The party was over and back in her dorm an exhausted Buffy was ready for bed. She sat at her desk in her pajamas, holding the ring in her hand. Just the feeling of the dull metal in her palm brought Angel back. So close, she could see him, feel him, even smell him. It hurt and for a few seconds the pain from the past year came back, full impact, as if she had just killed him, or he had just left yesterday. She felt the familiar urge to run, to get as far away from anything, and outrun her fears. She quickly squashed them though, knowing they were destructive feelings that had nearly ruined her life. It was hard to think of how just a year ago he had had her hand and now all she had was the ring he had given her to show his love. There was a bitter irony there.
Do I hate him? Do I resent him for leaving, she asked herself. After a few seconds of deep thought she answered herself. I wish I could hate him, but I can’t. Things would be a hell of a lot less complicated if I hated him.
“ As much as I hate it, I will always love you, more then you can ever know, for my sake and yours. I even hope you’re happy somewhere. Happy birthday to me, hunny.” She whispered before putting the ring back in it’s drawer and flipping the light off.
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