Here's the thing: I have a hell of a time writing Drusilla. She's a pain in the ass to write, particularly in the period where she was not even remotely lucid. But the title--"Sleep to Dream Her"--from the Dave Matthews Band just fit perfectly. I had this idea of making it a companion fic to a season two episode, and had copied a bunch of dialogue. But it was fruitless; I just don't have Dru's voice in my head. Which I think I'm grateful for, really.
The little birdies are singing in her head again, all vying for the attention she gives them sporadically. She reaches a hand up to stroke a feather that isn't there, and twitters affectionately to the little blue-and-green one that tells her there's an angel in her world.
It's daytime, because she can feel the sunlight coursing through her veins. It feels like she's burning up on the inside, and she smiles her peculiar little smile because it's bright yellow in her eyes.
She's lying on the bed, her eyes closed, and she dreams of warm dark places where screams fill her ears like the sweetest symphony. She loves to dream, because it's so close to this world that she thinks she can poke through, like her sharp fingernail on a bubble.
Oh, there's her white night. He's all pretty blacks and whites, contrast lost on his shallow face. He comes over, and she is drawn to him. But she keeps her eyes closed tight, because good little girls don't awaken til they're called.
He strokes her face, and she wants to purr. She feels like a kitten, all cozed up in the cool sheets and petted so gently.
words © SA. characters, show, and people not mine. no infringement is intended.