“Light”

By Quoshara

When he woke in the morning there were times that he didn’t know where he was. Times when he turned with trepidation to the body lying next to him, almost afraid of who he would find, his heart pounding, palms sweating until he saw the slight form, the tint of blue.

Fortunately, so far, he had managed not to speak the wrong name when he awoke. No query of : “Anya?”

Not that he would have preferred it to actually be Anya… it was more like an uneasy fear that Illyria would be gone and he would find himself back in Sunnydale. A fear that the love he had found was just a dream. That the sweetness and, yes, the sting, that was the Warrior God, was something that his lonely and uneasy mind had simply made up one night.

He didn’’t say any of this to Illyria, of course. He just snuggled closer to her warmth, nuzzling and kissing. And she smiled in her sleep. She always smiled. As if his being there was important. As important to her contentment and happiness as the rising of the sun or the turning of the Earth.

The thought gave him joy.

But at other times the thought frightened him. It brought back all his insecurities. Was he enough? Could he ever be enough?

He’d said that to her once, in a weak moment.

She’d bopped him on the back of the head. Not hard - just that attention getting thump that Wes used to tell him to get over himself and on with life.

“If you are not enough… I will make up the difference.” She’d told him. “Together we are enough for anything.”

In the darkness of his fears… she was the light.