You Were Made For Me(Buffy The Vampire Slayer)(Buffy x Spike)(Spuffy)

You Were Made For Me

Two women stood side by side on the crowded walkway. No one seemed to pay them any mind, which should have been the first thing to tip him off. For these ladies to be out at such a time of night, unchaperoned? Quite unusual, but it wasn't his place to point out such things to strangers. That'd be rather bold of him would it not? To make such presumptions. For all he knew their escort was on his way to meet them, or perhaps he's lagging a few paces behind. To give them some privacy so they may converse more freely. He's aware he's staring at this point, if they caught him they'd assume the worst. That he was some rude, uncouth scoundrel, fully intending on causing them harm. When that couldn't be farther from the truth. Mr. William Pratt was just admiring their contrasting beauty. Like the sun and the moon, the two ladies across the road couldn't be more different. The woman on the left had hair as dark as the night itself, with skin as ethereal as a beam of moonlight. Her full billowing white dress was a mesh of lace and frills, it was as though Selene herself had rode her chariot down from the Heavens to grace the mortals of this world. Where as the woman on the right had hair as light as the day itself, with skin as effulgent as ray of sunshine. Her sleek shapely black dress appeared to be made of satin and chiffon, like Electryone herself also decided to float down from above to bless everyone with her presence. She was the one who called to his very soul the most.

Someone knocked into him from behind as they were bustling past, William stumbled. Thankfully righting himself before he could go careening into the road. He would've surely been trampled by a carriage if that were the case. He moves to glare at the offending party, only to find them long gone in the sea of passersby. Returning his attention to the Goddesses across the way, he notices that they've suddenly disappeared. He frantically searches for them, only to come up empty. He realizes he must look like a madman, people are certainly staring at him like one. Face reddening in embarrassment, he mentally scolds himself for being so foolish. He hurries home, hoping Mother isn't too worried by his less than punctual arrival. She isn't, or if she is, she chooses not to mention it. Instead choosing to remind him of a party he promised he'd attend the following night, in hopes that Ms. Cecily Addams would be there. He of course didn't state that as his reasoning, he'd never hear the end of it otherwise. His mother's been adamant about how he should confess his feelings to Ms. Addams. He admits the notion is quite romantic, but wouldn't that be too forward of him? He'd loathe to ambush her in such a way. He's hesitant, strangely enough even more so after seeing those mysterious women. He considers mentioning them in passing, but thinks better of it. There'd be no point to it after all. He doubts he'll ever see them again, unfortunately.

He chastises himself for fantasizing about multiple other women, when his heart belongs to another. After a cuppa tea with his frail mother, and a promise from her that she'd retire for the evening very soon, he moves in the direction of his bedchambers. His nerves are on end, and he fully expects to not receive a wink of sleep that night. Yet he surprisingly sleeps like the dead. He dreamt of the sun and moon on opposite ends of the sky. Day and night met in the middle, right where he sat on a grassy hilltop. He somehow knew he had to choose a side, he couldn't live in both worlds. The night was alluring, but his heart tugged him in a different direction. To the day, the light. Having made his choice, he stood, only to be pulled from his slumber. Back into the real world, where things made much more sense. Two completely different times of day existing in the same place? How preposterous and fantastical indeed. The remainder of his morning and afternoon was that of a boring and typical nature, predictable and repetitive. Evening fell and he had changed into more appropriate and formal attire. He joined his mother in the drawing room, deciding on entertaining her with his poetry before having to take his leave. She once again pushed him to confess, even read his poetry out loud at the party. He internally cringed at the idea, he already knew what his peers thought of him and his writings.