He’d been reviled, despised and scorned, as human and vampire both. Had his dreams squeezed dry of wonder, and his love rejected as an insult.
So turning to thank Giles –with a reasonable amount of sincerity- for giving him a place to stay, and seeing the Watcher wrinkle his nose as he dropped Spike’s mug into the trash, shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. Shouldn’t have hurt.
And he turned away too quickly to notice the crack that ran across it, where Giles had knocked it against the tap as he rinsed it clean after a careful washing.
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