Too late.


Buffy stared sightlessly at the destruction before her.

“I used to think fairytales were real; one day I’d find my prince and live happily-ever-after.”  Her voice broke the all-encompassing silence. “Then I found out fairytales were real; only not in the happy-ending kinda way, but the evil-monsters-and-things-that-go-bump-in-the-night kinda way. I guess I figured there were no happily-ever-afters. Only there was, and I didn’t realise ‘til it was too late. I really blew it, huh?” A tear traced slowly down her cheek, her gaze fixed on the ground beneath her, searching for his dust amidst the detritus of her former home.