True Confessions: The Almost-Kiss

The Hyperion lobby was quiet except for the soft tick of the old clock and the occasional creak of leather as Angel shifted on the red couch. They’d made it back in one piece—barely. A Raskthor demon had nearly taken Cordelia’s head off with one swipe of its claws. Angel had gotten there just in time, tackling her out of the way and taking the hit himself. Now a shallow gash ran across his ribs, already healing, but the adrenaline still crackled between them like static.

Cordelia sat sideways on the couch facing him, one knee tucked under her, a damp cloth in her hand as she dabbed at the dried blood on his side. Her fingers were steady, but her breathing wasn’t.

“You almost died tonight,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t.” His voice was low, rough. “You didn’t either. That’s what matters.”

She set the cloth aside and looked at him—really looked. The honesty pact they’d made weeks ago hung in the air between them, unspoken but present. It had been easy to keep things light until moments like this, when death brushed too close and old memories surfaced.

“Angel…” She hesitated, then pushed forward because that was the deal. “That night when you came for that book…”

He went still, eyes darkening. “The night I had you pinned against the wall.”

Cordelia swallowed as the memory flared vivid and sharp. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

She kept working on the gash, but her voice turned sharper, the way it always did when she was circling something important. “You were a complete ass that night, you know. All cold and broody and ‘stay out of my way, Cordelia’ like I hadn’t been the one keeping this place running while you were off having your little existential crisis.”

Angel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “We took books from a demon’s lair. Dangerous books. I told you to leave it alone.”

“And I told you that you were being a controlling jerk who needed to stop treating us like fragile little humans who couldn’t handle the truth.” She met his eyes, a spark of old fire there. “You backed me straight into that wall like you were hunting something. Hands on either side of my head, caging me in. Wesley and Gunn were yelling at you to back off, but you didn’t even hear them. Your eyes were black. You were this close to losing it.”

The memory hung between them, electric.

Cordelia’s voice softened just a fraction. “And then something shifted. The air got thick. 

Magnetic. Insanely intense. For those few seconds everything else disappeared. You looked at me like…”

“Like I was going to kiss you,” he finished, voice rough.

She nodded, cheeks flushing. “I thought you were. And I wanted you to. God, Angel, I wanted you to. For about three seconds I was ready to throw every rule we had out the window. Then I panicked. Told myself it was the mission, the team, that it would ruin everything.” She swallowed. “But mostly I was scared of how much I wanted it.”

Angel’s hand came up and caught hers where it rested against his ribs. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and deliberate.

“My memory’s a little different,” he said quietly.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t pull away.

“I’d been thinking about kissing you for weeks. Every time you walked into a room. Every time you yelled at me. Every time you smiled like you were daring me to do something stupid.” His voice stayed steady, but heat burned underneath. “That night… I had you against the wall and I could smell your perfume and feel your heartbeat hammering. I was one second from losing every ounce of control I had left. And I wanted to. But I knew if I started I wouldn’t stop. And I was terrified I’d hurt you. Or that you’d regret it the second it was over.”

Cordelia’s breath hitched. She shifted closer, her free hand sliding up to rest lightly on his chest, right over the healing gash. “So we both wanted it,” she whispered. “And we both ran like cowards.”

Angel’s hand slid up her arm until his fingers curved around the back of her neck. The touch was light, but the look in his eyes wasn’t. “We’re not running tonight.”

The space between them vanished. She could feel his breath against her lips, cool and steady, while her own came in short, shaky pulls. His thumb stroked once along the line of her jaw. Her fingers curled into his shirt.

For one endless second the entire Hyperion seemed to hold its breath with them.

Then Angel leaned in that final fraction—

And the lobby phone rang.

Neither of them moved.

Cordelia let out a shaky, frustrated laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Sometimes the universe has terrible timing,” he murmured against her mouth, and still didn’t pull away.

The End.

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