Work Text:
On My Tiny Stage
By FemailoftheSpecies
And he looked upon her...donning white, surrounded by red satin, ruby lips inviting nepenthe's release.
Poison.
His heart was dead. Without her he would not suffer himself to be. He had his own vial of death. With whispered words of eternity, he consumed his end and fell beside her as she awoke, renewed.
First sight of her love in repose and she was not unwise to his demise. The blade was as always and plunging it in, she joined him, never to be apart again.
"Dru, you got blood on your dress again."
"Sorry, Spike. I was in the moment."
END