Title: Shattered Desperation

Author: Syn

E-Mail: veruca_werewolf@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: These characters to do not belong to me.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Lilah wonders many things.

A/N: Wesley and Lilah are hot, hot, hot. But are they just fuck buddies? Who knows? It's fun to watch though.

Feedback: It's such a small thing, if you please.

It's hard for me.

Maybe it's hard for you. I don't know.

When you're lying there with that smile on your face and sweat on your body, do you wonder? Do wonder what I've got up my sleeve? When you slam me into the wall, does it get harder and harder to dig your nails into my back? Do you think about someone else?

Or is it just me nowadays?

Do you keep the bed warm when I leave? Do think about putting a pillow over my head? Do you...

Oh, but do I want to know? The answer is yes, I want to know what's going on behind that cold, vast ocean you call eyes. I want to scrape away the disdain and feel around in your skull and pull you out. Not the you I fuck every night, but the you, you. That good man inside that seems to be running scared from me.

Who are you? Do you even know?

I think sometimes you're dancing on a razor's edge and slowly, so slowly you're slicing off your feet. They're just bloody nubs and that's why you don't run. That's why you stay and that's why you answer the door wearing nothing but a bedroom eyes. That's why you push me, pull me, break me, and scare me with that fabulous fucking mind.

That why it's hard.

Knowing but not knowing. Feeling but not feeling. Slowly melting the ice glazed across both our hearts. Screaming in rage or is that ecstasy? Struggling to remain on top when all you want to do is push me down. Cuz it's all about power you see.

Who has it, who wants it, who needs it and who has the last word? The last kiss? The last stroke of a mighty, heavy sword. The gush of black ink and red blood on a life contract. The slip and slide of flesh on flesh and the baring of teeth. Warm summer nights that pass in a blaze of "this is convenient and nothing more but don't leave me".

Am I just another warm body to you? Just a soft breast you can rest your head on and forget your mistakes? Forget until morning comes and, no wait...morning never comes. It's always an hour before and one of us is missing, walking out and leaving things behind.

Where does the time go?

Dwindling down as summer slips by and I'm no closer to you than when this started. No closer to cracking that code of silence you've erected. No closer to getting what I need and no closer to understanding it all. What is this?

Am I just a plaything? Something for you to chew up and spit out and gobble up when you feel hungry again? I want you to understand that I don't play this way. I'm not a doll. But still you insist on undressing me like one, scolding me when I'm bad and insisting I stand in the corner.

But we never play that way, do we?

No, the struggle persists until we give in and the biting comments lead to biting and the biting leads to licking until I'm no more than a cat in your hot fingers, arching my back and insisting you stroke me. Then things change and you do the same and dear God how long can this last and how long until I need more than shattered desperation?

It's hard for me, you see. Because I don't know what this is and I don't know why it's so damned hard to leave here every night and go back to work. I don't know.

Is it hard for you too?

(end)