Looking at him, she's reminded of what she told Willow years ago, "when he's around, it's like all the lights dim everywhere else." Words that hold true even now, in the open space of her dorm, after months apart and a breakup that (at the time) felt like it would destroy her.
"I need to do better than fine if I want to impress professor Walsh." Which isn't something she thought she'd ever say. About anyone. But there's something about the older woman that makes Buffy want to do better, to apply herself and live up to the standards Walsh sets for her students inside the classroom. "She's intense and smart and intimidating and I'm pretty positive she's the smartest person I know." Which, given everyone she knows, is saying a lot.
Scooting "dangerously" close to the edge of the bed and using her elbow for support, Buffy props her cheek on an open palm to watch and listen closer. The answer she's expecting is somewhere along the lines of, "What else am I gonna do?" What he says instead is so much better and not as creepy as he thinks it comes across as. But also, "Sweet." She insists, wholeheartedly, then adding, “And a little bit creepy.” For good measure. It’s her turn to make a face. Then immediately stop herself from continuing to make it, because he has her self-conscious about her expressions now or the ones she doesn’t mean to make. She wants to ask, “How often do I express myself?” Only she finds herself speechless and caught off guard once again.
She hears the I love you as clearly as if he screamed it. It’s not just in his words, that don’t actually say it but imply it, but it’s in his look, too. For a second she forgets where they are and who they are and, more importantly ─ who they aren’t to each other, and her mouth opens to say it right back ─ those actual three words, and she has to forcefully snap her mouth shut. Thankfully avoiding sending them right into disaster lane. Instead she says, “I like watching you, too.” Because she then remembers. “And texting you.” Reminding him, too.
no subject
"I need to do better than fine if I want to impress professor Walsh." Which isn't something she thought she'd ever say. About anyone. But there's something about the older woman that makes Buffy want to do better, to apply herself and live up to the standards Walsh sets for her students inside the classroom. "She's intense and smart and intimidating and I'm pretty positive she's the smartest person I know." Which, given everyone she knows, is saying a lot.
Scooting "dangerously" close to the edge of the bed and using her elbow for support, Buffy props her cheek on an open palm to watch and listen closer. The answer she's expecting is somewhere along the lines of, "What else am I gonna do?" What he says instead is so much better and not as creepy as he thinks it comes across as. But also, "Sweet." She insists, wholeheartedly, then adding, “And a little bit creepy.” For good measure. It’s her turn to make a face. Then immediately stop herself from continuing to make it, because he has her self-conscious about her expressions now or the ones she doesn’t mean to make. She wants to ask, “How often do I express myself?” Only she finds herself speechless and caught off guard once again.
She hears the I love you as clearly as if he screamed it. It’s not just in his words, that don’t actually say it but imply it, but it’s in his look, too. For a second she forgets where they are and who they are and, more importantly ─ who they aren’t to each other, and her mouth opens to say it right back ─ those actual three words, and she has to forcefully snap her mouth shut. Thankfully avoiding sending them right into disaster lane. Instead she says, “I like watching you, too.” Because she then remembers. “And texting you.” Reminding him, too.