ANGEL: This is what I do. I lay it all on the line. Spike will either break my heart or make it whole. There is no middle ground. I embrace that and brace for it. Although, I pray there’s no need for that. “What do you need?” He grips my hand and raises it to his mouth. His soft lips graze the backs of my knuckles. “What do you mean?” “What do you need to know, to believe, that you are mine?” “I honestly don’t know.” And that’s as honest as I can be with him. I want forevers tied into neat little bows, but that’s not Spike. It will never be him. He’s all hard edges and rough spots. Things to be wary of and things to love. He’s the thing I love, and with that comes the power to destroy me. I should run, but I flock to him like the poor, desperate, moth drawn to the flame. He holds the power to destroy me, but I don’t care. As long as I have one moment with him, I’ll die happy as I burn.