[ She should have noticed that familiar tingle of her senses, a pinging on her radar of something not human, but there's a lot of interference in that department. Whatever these things are that are menacing the town, they're less of a ping and more like a sledgehammer. So when someone brushes against her, she instinctively turns toward them and—
Forgets everything else. ]
How— [ It's definitely not a whisper, but nor is it a scream, despite sounding pretty close in the echoing quiet. The rules of staying silent have gone right out of her mind in the face of, well, this face. The defined cheekbones, that cut in his eyebrow, those eyes that could see through her soul. He's not wearing his usual smile, the one that could switch between a tender expression and a sure indication of impending trouble, and his hair is different, but. It's Spike, and that realization is like a kick to the chest. ]
How— [ It's more breath than voice as her hand reaches up to catch his a second before it reaches her cheek, her fingers wrapping around his, the feeling just as she remembers. How is he here? How is he not a pile of ash at the bottom of the crater formerly known as Sunnydale? ]
no subject
Forgets everything else. ]
How— [ It's definitely not a whisper, but nor is it a scream, despite sounding pretty close in the echoing quiet. The rules of staying silent have gone right out of her mind in the face of, well, this face. The defined cheekbones, that cut in his eyebrow, those eyes that could see through her soul. He's not wearing his usual smile, the one that could switch between a tender expression and a sure indication of impending trouble, and his hair is different, but. It's Spike, and that realization is like a kick to the chest. ]
How— [ It's more breath than voice as her hand reaches up to catch his a second before it reaches her cheek, her fingers wrapping around his, the feeling just as she remembers. How is he here? How is he not a pile of ash at the bottom of the crater formerly known as Sunnydale? ]