True Confessions: The Thing I’m Scared Of

The Hyperion lobby was dark except for the single lamp beside the red couch. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. Cordelia sat curled against one end, legs tucked under her, a half-forgotten mug of tea cooling on the side table. Angel occupied the other end, close enough that their knees brushed whenever either of them shifted. The honesty pact had made nights like this easier—until it hadn’t.

They’d been talking about nothing and everything for the last hour. Then the conversation simply… stopped. The quiet felt heavier than usual.

Angel stared at his hands for a long moment before he spoke, voice low and rough.

“I’m scared of you.”

Cordelia’s head turned slowly. “Me?”

He didn’t look at her. “Of what happens if I let myself get too close. If I let myself be happy. Really happy.” His jaw tightened. “The curse. One perfect moment of true happiness and it’s over. I become him again. And Angelus… he wouldn’t just hurt you. He’d destroy everything you are. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk you.”

The words landed between them like a stone dropped into still water. Cordelia’s breath caught.

Angel finally met her eyes, and the raw fear there made her chest ache. “Every time I almost kiss you, every time I let myself think about what we could be… I remember what I am. What I could become. And it terrifies me more than anything I’ve ever faced.”

Silence stretched again. Then Cordelia shifted, turning fully toward him. She reached out and took his hand, threading their fingers together without hesitation.

“My turn,” she said softly. “I’m scared that you’ll never let yourself be happy. That your fear of what might happen will keep us stuck here forever—in this almost-everything place. Almost kissing. Almost touching. Almost us. I’m scared you’ll keep holding back until one day you decide it’s safer to walk away again. Like you did before. And I’ll be left standing here wondering if I was ever enough to make you stay.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, but she didn’t look away.

Angel’s eyes darkened with something deeper than fear. He lifted their joined hands and pressed her palm against his chest, right over where his heart would be if it still beat.

“You are enough,” he said, the words fierce and quiet at the same time. “You’re the only thing that’s ever made me want to risk it anyway.”

Cordelia’s free hand came up to cup his cheek. His skin was cool beneath her fingers, but the look in his eyes was pure heat.

“Then maybe,” she whispered, “we stop being scared of the almost. Maybe we just… be here. Together. Even if it’s terrifying.”

Angel turned his face into her touch, eyes closing for a heartbeat. When they opened again, the fear was still there—but so was something else. Something warm and certain and impossibly tender.

He leaned in slowly, forehead resting against hers. Their breaths mingled, cool and warm. The space between their mouths was barely anything at all.

“I’m still scared,” he murmured.

“Me too,” she breathed.

Neither of them pulled away.

For the first time, the fear didn’t feel like a wall between them. It felt like something they were holding together—fragile, honest, and more romantic than any perfect moment either of them had ever dared to imagine.

The End.

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