He thinks I don't see beauty. All I see in music is you. You're all I think of. Until he comes. But you're beauty, we make beauty. No, better. What we make is real.

Drusilla might not even realize Spike existed right at this moment, because she was hurting and all the pain was Angel, was Angelus and it was all she wanted, but at least Nicolas was texting him, almost feverish in his need for him.