True Confessions: The First Time I Saw You (Redux)

The Hyperion lobby was bathed in late-afternoon light. Cordelia sat cross-legged on the red couch, surrounded by glossy 8×10 proofs from her most recent (and outrageously expensive) professional photoshoot. She was flipping through them with a critical eye, occasionally making little noises of approval or disgust.

Angel wandered in from the kitchen carrying his usual mug of blood and the daily paper tucked under one arm. He paused when he saw the spread of photos.

“New headshots?” he asked, dropping into the chair across from her.

“Something like that.” She held one up. In it she wore a striking red halter dress, the fabric clinging in all the right places, her hair swept up, expression equal parts sultry and untouchable.

Angel’s eyes lingered on the photo a beat longer than necessary. “You wore a dress like that the first time I saw you.”

Cordelia froze, then slowly lowered the proof. “You remember that?”

He nodded, setting his mug and paper on the side table. “The Bronze. Red dress. You were there to be seen.”

She blinked, genuinely surprised. “You barely glanced my way that night. At least that’s what it looked like from where I was standing.”

Angel leaned back, arms resting on the chair. “I noticed. You were there to listen to the band, catch the lead singer’s eye, make every other girl in the room wish they were you. Mission accomplished.”

Cordelia’s cheeks warmed, but she recovered quickly with a smirk. “Damn right. That dress was a statement. I wanted the whole place to know I had arrived.”

Angel’s expression shifted — quieter, more serious. “You did more than that. You walked in and everything else faded out. I was there for Buffy, trying to stay invisible in the corner like always. Then you showed up in that red dress and I couldn’t look away. I told myself it was nothing. Just some loud, confident girl who didn’t belong anywhere near someone like me.”

He met her eyes.

“But then you smiled at the singer and I felt jealous. Stupid, right? I didn’t even know your name yet. All I knew was that for the first time in a long time, someone made me forget why I was there. Made me want things I had no business wanting. And I still couldn’t stop staring.”

Cordelia stared at him, the photoshoot proofs forgotten in her lap. “You never told me that.”

“I wasn’t ready to admit it back then.” His voice dropped. “I am now.”

The air between them thickened. She set the photos aside and leaned forward, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

“So what do you think now?” she asked softly.

Angel’s mouth curved into that rare, devastating half-smile.

“I still think you’re trouble,” he murmured. “But I stopped wanting to stay away a long time ago.”

Cordelia’s lips parted. The space between them shrank until she could feel his cool breath against her mouth. Neither of them moved to close it — not yet — but the promise of it hung there, electric and sweet and inevitable.

The End. 

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