Disinfinite Possibility
by Jaclyn // [email protected]
08.28.03

*

She tries so hard to love him, but it's just something she can't do. In her head, she lists his good qualities, his alluringly evil qualities, his endearing habits, the Wesleyish things he does. Thinking of him makes her smile, but love? She waits for the butterflies she's heard about, but there is nothing in her stomach but excellent coffee.

It makes her go still, sometimes, when she realizes just how little she feels. All around her there are people dying, people celebrating...there are reactions of all kinds, but the only way Lilah has ever experienced them is as an observer.

What is wrong with her?

She'd tried to muster up some semblance of joy when Angel got what he deserved, when Holtz disappeared into Hell with the vampire's brat. But all she could manage was a distant sense of 'ha!' Take that, bastard. Watching her co-workers crack open the champagne, she wondered briefly why she wasn't happier. Why wasn't she giddy, with a smile about to spill off her face?

Her smile is splintered, meaningless. She is miming what society tells her to do: curve your lips when events fall to your advantage. Lilah stretches and stretches until she thinks she'll snap, but still, there is nothing at the end of all that pulling. Nothing but a sore mouth and a need for lip balm.

And Wesley. He is falling in love with her. Lilah's not sure if he realizes it yet, but she knows he is. She wants to fall as well, wants -- for once -- to lose some of her damned control, to throw herself headfirst into an abyss of infinite possibility. Why are her feet glued so firmly to the ground? She buys cheap glue-remover at the corner store; sits the bottle on her windowsill and stares. Thinks about Wesley some more.

And still. Nothing happens.

She gives up. Realizes she gave up long ago, and that, that, is the problem.


END