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She can pluck her head off her shoulders if she wants to. No one knows, but she's tempted, come Halloween—scare some small children when she starts to walk and speak. And Wolfram and Hart has all the best parties; it would be the greatest hit. But Lilah knows she's not going to this year's Halloween party. That's beyond her now. Now she sits, files her nails, keeps her shoulders back.
AU: Lilah is Angel's liaison to the Senior Partners instead of Eve
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Well I'm crying oof
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Bookmark Notes:
He sighs, and turns to look out the window, where the sun is finally about to vanish under the horizon. "I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you."
Lilah tries to chuckle again, but it just comes out a melancholy puff of air and a sad smile. She runs a hand along a wrinkle in her skirt. "It means something that you tried."
Wesley turns back to her with a look she refuses to decipher and begins to stand. She rises with him. "I need to be going," he says. "It’s nearly time."
Nearly time for her too. Not that Hell’s so bad — she already knows her neighbors. But still she will miss this. Miss him. There’s no Hell clause in their contracts, Angel saw to that. It’ll be a long eternity without him. Lilah thinks something inside of her, something very human and long since repressed, is starting to crack open and grab at her neck. She gasps, wraps an arm around her stomach, keeps it together as she makes the slow walk around her desk and as Wesley moves to meet her. When they’re two inches away he takes her hand, just one. Lilah could cry if she were anyone else, because Lilah doesn’t cry and because if death is a moment of clarity then this is a long, drawn out epiphany, the sort where her entire life, for a brief moment, makes perfect sense.