Unbreakable - A Beautiful Lie (AU M/L ADULT) COMPLETE 5/5/17 + A/N 5/5/19

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AlysLuv
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 6, 6/8/15, p. 5

Post by AlysLuv »

Ooooo and I also hope she doesn't forgive him...right away. Not bc of what he is, but bc he violated her memories :wink:
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SEVEN

Post by max and liz believer »

Roswelllostcause - We learnt from Tess on the show that messing with someone's mind is not a very good thing. Let's see where this leads… Thank you for the feedback!

Eve (begonia9508)
Even if she doesn't remember what she saw, I guess she won't really forget totally and will always have the sensation of knowing something, which linger in some part of her memory...
There's always that "risk", yes :roll: Thank you for the feedback!

L-J-L 76 - Yes, maybe Max should've just trusted Liz with the truth. But maybe he's not alone in that decision… Thank you for all the questions and the feedback!

Carolyn (keepsmiling7) - Yep, maybe not vampires after all. And I am sooo excited about the "X-files"-revival. I'm a huge fan :) Thank you so much for the feedback!

AlysLuv - Hehe, I kinda just assumed that you had some weird auto-correct on your phone/computer that completely messed up your review. I understood the first part, but there was one sentence I didn't understand at all :roll: :mrgreen: So thank you for revisiting and making it a bit clearer… :lol: Maybe Max should've trusted Liz. She's probably the one most likely to actually keep a secret like that secret. But greater forces are at work here… I say no more :wink: And considering her forgiving him… She has to remember what he did first… :roll: But of course, those things have a way of getting known sooner or later anyway. Thank you so much for the triple feedback :wink:


From SIX:

His eyes moved to watch his thumb catch the first tear sliding down my cheek and I thought I heard a break in his voice when he whispered, “I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

“Then let me leave,” I answered, my voice cracking with effort.

“I can’t,” he replied softly, regretfully, while his thumbs gently brushed back and forth across my cheeks. “Things have to go back to the way they were. You have to forget.”

Another tear tumbled down my cheek as my lips trembled in agitation. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“Never,” he whispered and the word floated between us for a second, marking what I would forget the next.

Max Evans didn’t kill me that day. Nor did he hurt me, per say. But I suddenly couldn’t remember things the way they actually had happened. And I certainly didn’t remember anything about glowing hands and the magical healing of wounds.


____________________________________
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SEVEN

“Where’s your shadow?” Maria asked, breathless from attempting to get to school on time. She matched her strides with mine as we moved through the crowd of sleepy teenagers, dragging their feet towards the entrance of the school.

I frowned, glancing over at her while I adjusted the strap of the backpack slung across my shoulder. “My shadow?”

“Yeah,” Maria said simply, her tone telling me that I should know exactly what she was referring to.

I sighed, brushing the windblown hair out of my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ria.”

“Come on,” she groaned, lightly bumping into my side as we tried to get through the entrance at the same time as two other students.

The sound level significantly increased as we entered the busy corridors of Roswell High and I rolled the backpack off my back as I came to a stop in front of my locker.

Maria filed in next to me, rolling the combination of her padlock between her long slender fingers, while she leaned in and hissed, “Max Evans.”

I chilled - a natural response to the mentioning of that mysterious boy - and straightened to glance around us, prepared to see Max standing behind me or something. My body sighed in relief when there was no sight of the dark-haired guy with the intense eyes.

I could feel Maria follow my movements with annoyance. “He was basically stepping on your heels last week.”

I laughed. How did Maria come up with all of this? “No, he wasn’t.”

“Don’t act stupid,” Maria bit out, getting annoyed, “We even talked about it.”

I searched my memory, the smile on my face faltering. This wasn’t funny anymore. I could read the seriousness on Maria’s face and I got the strong feeling that she wasn’t joking around.

“No, we didn’t,” I protested weakly and scanned my surroundings as I was hit with the sensation of being watched.

And my sixth sense was correct.

Max Evans.

My eyes collided with his dark gaze as he breezed into the corridor, flanked by Isabel and Michael. Their strides were synchronized and their pace confident. They oozed dominance and beauty, making the sea of students part in front of them as their mere presence demanded respect.

I swallowed as his eyes traced down my shape, before he broke eye contact and the triad passed.

That,” Maria harshly pointed out with her voice close to my ear.

I allowed myself to follow the silhouette of the back of his body until he turned the corner and disappeared from my vision, before I refocused on Maria. “‘That’ what?”

“That’s what Max was doing every day for the past week. Staring at you.”

I laughed, but I could tell that I was not the only one that heard the fear in my laughter. “No.” I straightened. “No, I think I would remember that.”

Maria looked at me as if I was sprouting a second head. “You’re kidding, right? You’re just pulling my leg or something. You’re not being serious… Liz. We talked about this. About Max following you around. About how he had been doing it since the Halloween party. I asked if anything had happened between you at the party and you told me that you had heard a conversation between your wanna-be-vampires and that they were keeping an eye on you so you wouldn’t rattle them out.”

Blank. My mind was blank of any kind of memory like that. But Maria seemed so certain, almost desperately so as a sheen of frustration shone in her eyes.

“I don’t…” I shook my head apologetically. “I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah, you told me that you didn’t remember their conversation, but that they wanted to make sure that you really didn’t remember.”

“No,” I continued shaking my head. “I don’t remember having anything to do with them last week at all. Not just the conversation.”

I thought back to the party. I had drunk too much. I had hung out with Maria and Alex. We had walked home, stumbling over our own intoxicated feet while laughing. At school on Monday, I had gone through the classes as usual, Maria had made fun of my insobriety at the party and I had worked at the CrashDown Café after school. The rest of the week had transpired in about the same manner. As it always did.

My life had been as uneventful as per usual.

The bell rang loudly above us, interrupting my thoughts and momentarily dimming the unsettling feeling inside. I glanced at Maria’s face, noted that she looked scared, and bit my bottom lip worriedly, before ripping the door to my locker open, pulling the books for AP Biology out and slamming the door closed.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I said hastily to Maria. I could feel her eyes burning into my back as I left her standing by the lockers.
*****
“Okay, everyone,” Mr. Seligman announced, clapping his hands together to quiet the various conversations between students and gain their attention. The conversations ebbed and dropped off one by one and the biology teacher offered them a satisfied smile. “Thank you.”

I discreetly pushed the left side of my hair over my right shoulder so that I could get a view at the person sitting diagonally behind me, without having to turn my head too much. I startled as I found him already looking at me and my hand automatically let my hair fall back in place - shielding my blushing face.

The earlier conversation with Maria had continued to gnaw on my mind, making Max the main subject of my curiosity. Was he the missing link? He was definitely the changing variable in this mystery I couldn’t figure out. In my version of what had happened, he was not any more present in my life the past week than before, but in Maria’s version he had basically been breathing the same air as me. How could that be?

“…with dissection to familiarize you with the anatomy of the mammal.”

My attention was back on the teacher as he pulled on two latex gloves, letting them snap demonstratively at the wrists. Mr. Seligman sure had an affinity for drama. Next he proceeded to pick up the carcass of a piglet, holding it up in front of the class with its pale belly facing the students. There were mixed responses from my classmates, ranging from sarcastic ‘Wohoo’s’ to fake retching.

“Calm down. This is not rocket science,” Mr. Seligman chuckled good-naturedly and traced a finger along the midline of the dead specimen. “You are to incise along the midline of the pig. Be careful with the amount of pressure you use or you might cut into the underlying abdominal content-“ a nervous ‘Oh my God, I think I’m gonna be sick’ was heard from my right and I looked at Pam Troy sympathetically. Her complexion had taken on a green tint and she was pressing the back of her hand against her mouth.

Oblivious to the responses his detailed instructions were causing, the teacher continued, “As you cut through the skin with the scalpel, you’ll encounter a white membrane. Lift this up with your tweezers so that the underlying organs - mostly intestines - will fall away and not be damaged by your scalpel.”

I felt watched, a burning sensation tracing the back of my head, down my spine. Feeling restless, I started chewing on the end of my pencil while I tried to concentrate on what my teacher was saying. After all, it was pertinent to listen, in order to attain a good grade.

Speaking of which…

“Today’s exercise accounts for 20% of your final grade -“ there was a collective groan, which Mr. Seligman chose to ignore, “- and you’ll be judged on how carefully you make your incision and the categorization of organs and tissues. I’m expecting a write-up of the functions of each organ you encounter during this dissection at the end of the week.”

Whispered objections spread amongst the students and I surveyed my classmates seated behind me as Mr. Seligman addressed Melissa, who had raised her hand. “Yes, Ms. Thomas?”

“You want us to do all of that in today’s lesson? There’s no time.”

“Ah,” Mr. Seligman smiled, bringing his gloved hands together, having placed the piglet down on a metal tray on his desk. “You’ll be working in teams of two today.”

I froze. I hated group work. Especially in AP Bio, since neither Alex nor Maria was in this class.

“Can we choose?” Alexandra Wilson asked.

“Let’s mix it up, shall we?” Mr. Seligman suggested with an adventurous glint in his eyes and I sighed inwardly while the rest of the class did the same audibly. Why did teachers never allow you to choose your own partner?

But in this class, I didn’t mind. Since I wouldn’t know who to choose if I had a choice.

To the background of protests from the students, Mr. Seligman started pairing people together. I was drawing the face of a vampire in my notebook - fully equipped with sharp fangs and blood dripping from the corner of the mouth - when my name was spoken.

“Elizabeth Parker and…” I looked up to see Mr. Seligman consult the notes in front of him, “…Max Evans.”

Fuck.

I whipped my head in the direction of Max and saw him pack up his notes, his pencil caught between his teeth. He was not looking at me. My eyes flickered back to the desk in front of me, my gaze falling on the half-finished vampire drawing and my heart beat tripped as I started folding the paper in on itself, hiding the malicious face.

In my periphery I could see him taking the seat next to me, could feel his body heat spread across the distance between us.

“Hey,” he mumbled and I let my eyes wander to his face. He was staring into the desk surface, acutely focused on organizing his papers in front of him.

I frowned. This was not the assertive Max I had just seen walk down the corridor. Far from it. Miles and miles from it.

“Hey,” I replied and brought the pencil back to my mouth, where it would be attacked by my teeth.

“This box contains the fetuses,” Mr. Seligman instructed, pointing at a large white plastic box next to the front door. But I wasn’t listening. I was analyzing Max Evans out of the corner of my eye.

I was observing the restless movements of his knee, the thrumming of his pencil against the desk, how his hand would come up and scratch behind his ear, the way his dark hair was a bit too long behind his ears, making it curl around them softly. I noticed how his jaw clenched beneath the skin of his cheek, saw the thin blue veins across the top of his hands, and couldn’t help but notice the fairly muscular quality of his underarms.

I felt my body getting warmer and I closed my eyes to try and refocus. What the hell is wrong with me?

“You okay?”

My eyes flung open at his soft question and I gasped at his closeness. He had leaned in, his hand hovering above my shoulder as if he was about to touch me.

“Yeah,” I said hastily and pulled out of his reach. “Yes.”

He quickly pulled his hand back, almost looking contrite, before collecting himself and straightening in his chair.

“Do you want me to-?” he hitched his head in the direction of the box with dead animals and I shook me head. I needed to move; needed to get some breathing room.

“No, I’ll do it,” I said, jumping off the chair, snatching a pair of gloves from the box at the end of the teacher’s desk and pulling them over my hands.

I lined up behind three of my classmates, my thoughts miles away as I waited for my turn to retrieve a dead pig fetus from a plastic box.

Max seemed nervous. I had never seen him nervous before. Was it because of me? Had something happened last week that I for some reason couldn’t remember? The Max Evans I was used to wouldn’t be sitting quietly next to me, but would be throwing insinuations at me, pulling his chair close to mine just to freak me out and suffocate me with his presence. Today’s Max Evans was polite.

A voice abruptly pulled me out of my jumbled thoughts. “Hi, Liz.”

I looked up to see Sean Carter observing me with a soft smile on the other side of the box of death. He inclined his head to the side as he gained my attention. “A penny for your thoughts?”

I felt myself blush and immediately chastened myself. I never blushed. But there was something warm and inviting about Sean’s expression. Something that was in stark contrast to my grey thoughts.

“Nothing important,” I replied with a shrug.

His blue eyes were pulling me in and I unconsciously took a step closer, almost bumping into the person standing in front of me.

“Did you have a good weekend?” Sean asked and I tried to catch on to the fleeting thought that it was weird that Sean was chit chatting with me, but my mind felt slow and my body light. I felt my lips form a smile and I would’ve dropped my eyes in modesty if I’d been able to break eye contact with him.

“It was okay,” I answered softly, vaguely aware that it was my turn to pick out a cadaver.

“Got any plans for Saturday?” Sean asked and a shiver of excitement traced down my spine.

I opened my mouth to respond when something cut off my eye contact with Sean, making me emotionally collapse heavily back into my own body.

“Sean,” Max’s dark voice greeted stiffly as I found myself staring at Max’s back.

“Hey Evans,” Sean’s voice replied lightly, but Max’s body was still blocking me from seeing Sean. My heart was hammering in my ears, my body felt heavy and tired - as if I had just ran a marathon.

I squeezed my eyes shut to fight the dizziness swimming through my head and pulled deep gulps of air into my lungs. Maybe this dissection of corpses wasn’t really my thing.

“You okay?”

My eyes sprang open and collided with Max’s light brown eyes. I could feel his eyes piercing through my head. I briefly looked at the stiff piglet he was holding in his glove-covered hands before meeting his eyes again as the dizziness slowly left me and I registered that Sean had silently left.

“Of course,” I replied, irritation creeping into my voice. Irritated with my own feelings, for losing my focus while speaking to Sean (of all people). I frowned at my internal battle; through all my years growing up in Roswell I couldn’t remember I single time I had actually spoken to Sean, let alone even noticing him.

Why did I suddenly want to know everything about him?

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Max asked, his voice amused but his eyes dark.

I was confused by the combination, but decided to latch onto the feeling that I knew how to handle. “I was waiting for you.”

“Sure,” he winked and brushed past me.

Max didn’t say much as we placed the piglet on the metal tray, sliced it open and slowly went through the organs. I didn’t feel much like speaking either as I watched his hands handle the organs, separating them from their attachments and lining them up on the second metal tray.

To be honest, I was busy trying to control my emotions. Being fairly squeamish around blood, dead tissue wasn’t much easier. At least the coagulated and cold blood in the corpse was less nauseating than warm, flowing and bright red blood. Thank God for small favors.

“Should I be concerned that you’re a natural at this?” I asked quietly, my eyes fixed on continuous line of miniature organs.

“Why should that concern you?” he asked, his voice holding the same quietness as mine.

I refrained from looking up at him, instead pulling my gloves off and picking up my pen. Placing the point of the pen against the paper, with the intention of categorizing the organs, I mumbled, “Your father’s a surgeon, right?”

“So he is,” Max answered and I noticed him matching my actions, preparing to write down the organs on his own paper.

“Do you go there a lot?” I asked, writing ‘Heart - cardiovascular system’ on my paper.

“Where?”

“To the hospital, with your dad?”

He didn’t respond and his pen was still against the paper, making me look up at him. He was looking at me intensely, pensively.

“Maria told me that’s where you disappear to. That’s the reason why you skip school from time to time.”

I found myself being confused by my own statement. The information of Max ditching school from time to time was firmly in my memory, but I couldn’t remember the actual conversation with Maria when I had found out. Up until the point that I had asked Max just now, I hadn’t even been aware myself that I’d that information locked up in me.

His eyes didn’t move away from my face, his face a blank slate. “Maria told you, huh?”

I swallowed back my nervousness. There was no reason for me to be nervous. “Apparently it’s no secret.”

“So… if it’s common knowledge, why the sudden interest?”

My mouth was dry as I tried to swallow, my eyes flickering uninhibited to his lips. I couldn’t explain the urges that befell me at times, which forcibly compelled me to attack him. To line up my lips with his, to run my tongue against the seam of his mouth, to push my fingers through his hair, to slide my tongue down his throat, kiss the indention at the base where his prominent collarbones failed to meet-

“Elizabeth?”

I shivered - and blushed - at his use of my full name, at the mirth in his voice and the grin sneaking upon his lips. I dropped my eyes to my paper, hoping for the two-hundred-and-fifty-sixth time that he couldn’t read minds.

While jotting down ‘Lungs - respiratory system’, I replied to his previous question, “It wasn’t common knowledge to me.”

I could feel his stare at the top of my head as I pretended to be immensely riveted by figuring out in which system the kidneys belonged.

“Why wasn’t it?”

I looked up at him and answered lightly, “I wasn’t interested before.”

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “What changed your mind?”

“You,” I replied smoothly, “Following me around.”

I watched him stiffen, his eyes growing dark against his paling skin. I wanted to test his reaction, see if there might be any truth to what Maria had been insinuating.

“You thought I wouldn’t remember?” I shrugged, looking down at my paper again while adding, “I don’t, actually. But Maria informed me that you were practically stalking me last week,” I looked up at his ghostly face and finished, “and then you stopped. About the same time that I forgot.”

“Liz…” he whispered.

I didn’t let him continue, tapping the top of the pen against my bottom lip in thought. “Why is that, Max? Why is it that Maria is so certain that you were my stalker and I’m very certain of the opposite?”

He was quiet for another two seconds before chuckling, his body relaxing. And he almost fooled me. I almost believed that he thought the notion was humorous, if it hadn’t been for the darkness haunting his eyes.

“I think you know better than me that Maria is not the most reliable source of information.”

Feeling protective of my best friend, I instantly bit out, “Don’t talk about her like that.”

He put up his hands in front of him in a display of surrender. “Whoa. No offense.”

“I trust Maria,” I said acidly and met his gaze without blinking. “I don’t trust you.”

He didn’t look away from my demanding gaze but I noticed a twitch at the corner of his eye as he observed me. Then he shrugged and tapped his pen against the paper. “Maybe we should finish this.”

“Avoiding the subject,” I mumbled and looked down at my notes. “Okay.”

“Yes,” Max replied with a determination that made me look up at him again. “My dad wants me at the hospital a couple of days per month.”

I bit my lower lip in contemplation as I asked, “Why?”

Max hesitated briefly before answering, “He wants me to be a doctor.”

“There’s medical school for that, you know. Isn’t it better if you get a high school diploma? Good grades?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my grades,” Max replied, his eyes softening, as if he was sharing a private joke.

I frowned. “I never see you study.”

He shrugged and answered lightly, “I don’t have to.”

“Everyone has to study.”

“I have…” he wet his lips as I watched, transfixed, “something of a photographic memory.”

“Huh,” I huffed and turned unseeing eyes to my notes. “I just find it a bit weird that you would train with your dad, that’s all. That the hospital allows you to. Patient confidentiality and all.”

“That’s taken care of,” Max answered mysteriously.

“Uh-huh,” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and wrote ‘Kidneys - Renal system’. There was something fundamentally wrong about Max’s comments, about the whole situation. Sure, if they had been in the 18th century, it would have been natural for Max to learn his father’s trade from being his apprentice. But they lived in a modern society, where there were educational systems and a lot of bureaucracy that should frown upon the type of arrangement described by Max.

I opened my mouth to challenge his information further, but the school bell interrupted me. Our eyes met over the carved out abdominal cavity of the piglet and I wordlessly let myself fall into his eyes, feeling the (nowadays) familiar sparks of desire shoot along the nerves of my body, pooling at the base of my stomach.

“Okay, people,” Mr. Seligman clapped his hands together. “Organs and carcasses go into the blue plastic bags. There’s alcohol spray on the back table; wash off your tables.”

A collective groan swept through the room which had Mr. Seligman add, “You surely didn’t assume that I was going to clean up after you, were you?”

I broke eye contact with Max and collected my papers and pens to place them on the floor; away from the planned cleaning of the table. I froze as Max’s hand folded around my elbow. His touch burnt through my heart and my breath was trapped in my throat as I slowly raised my eyes to his face.

I felt his warm breath against my lips as he leaned in, the tip of his nose almost bumping into mine. My body was still, there was no chance in hell that I was able to breathe with him so close.

“Stay away from Sean Carter,” he whispered, a desperate urgency in his voice.

“What?” I breathed, my lungs starting to ache from the lack of oxygen.

“He’s dangerous,” Max said, his eyes trapping mine.

“I don’t know him,” I answered getting dizzy from not breathing.

“Just be careful,” Max insisted, his hand tightening around my elbow. “Please.”

I looked at the long dark lashes over his eyes, at the size of his pupils, the faint redness to his cheeks, the crease between his eyes.

“Okay,” I breathed, non-convincingly.

His grip on my elbow loosened and heat curled in the center of my stomach as his eyes traveled to my lips. The tension on his face smoothened and was gone by the time he looked up into my eyes again.

“Breathe,” he whispered with a soft grin and took a step back, breaking the spell his proximity always put on me.

Air rushed into my lungs at his command and I stumbled backwards. Max chuckled and shook his head, putting gloves back over his hands to collect the pieces of tissue.

Annoyance crept into my body and my lips tightened in a straight line as I let the stationary drop to the floor before I angrily stomped off to get the cleaning agent.

Max Evans was annoying. Max Evans was really getting on my nerves.


TBC...
Last edited by max and liz believer on Sat Jul 01, 2017 6:55 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Roswelllostcause
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by Roswelllostcause »

Liz, is really falling for Max. She just won't admit it even to herself.
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by saori_1902 »

Great part!
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by keepsmiling7 »

Will Liz stay away from Sean Carter at Max's suggestion?
I don't think Max bothers Liz as much as she tries to think........we'll have to see how things develop.
Thanks,
Carolyn
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by AlysLuv »

Thanks for the update. I had a really terrible day, so this helped.
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by L-J-L 76 »

Great Chapter!!!! Please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz. So it seems Maria is maybe helping Liz remember. I'm glad Liz was asking questions and defending Maria. I don't know what to think of Sean. And I know what to think of Max's warning of Sean. Will Liz remember what Max did? What will Liz do when she remembers? Will Liz tell Max she remembers? Will Liz take Max's advise and stay away from Sean? What did Max mean Sean was dangerous? Will Liz go out with Sean? Will Liz get hurt by Sean? Will Max save Liz from Sean? Will Max and Liz talk? Will Max and Liz kiss? Will Max and Liz fall for each other? Will Max and Liz admit their feelings towards each other? Will Max and Liz finally get together? Will Max and Liz have a happy ending together? Sorry for all the questions I was just wondering. Please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz.

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by begonia9508 »

Oh! Of course, Max nerves her!... But she does everything, for him to do it... :lol: :wink:

And thinking they are wampires is the funniest thing I read; Maria and Liz have a great imagination but with 16, I guess you still believe at wampires...

But one thing is sure; this guy Max is really interesting to her - and a lot! :lol:

Thanks and waiting for more! EVE :mrgreen:
- Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 7, 6/11/15, p. 6

Post by Natalie36 »

max and sean. this should be fun :shock:
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EIGHT

Post by max and liz believer »

Roswelllostcause - You're onto something there :roll: Thank you for the feedback!
saori_1902 - Thank you!
Carolyn (keepsmiling7)
Will Liz stay away from Sean Carter at Max's suggestion?
Possibly… :wink:
Thank you for the feedback!
AlysLuv - Sorry to hear that your day sucked, but glad that the previous update helped some. Thank you for the feedback!
L-J-L 76 - Unfortunately, can't give you any answers right now… Your questions will be answered in the future :roll: Thank you for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - Yep, Max surely intrigues Liz, even though she might not want to admit it. Who doesn't love a mystery, right? :wink: Thank you for the feedback!
Natalie - Might just be… :roll: Thank you for the feedback!


From SEVEN:

“Stay away from Sean Carter,” he whispered, a desperate urgency in his voice.

“What?” I breathed, my lungs starting to ache from the lack of oxygen.

“He’s dangerous,” Max said, his eyes trapping mine.

“I don’t know him,” I answered getting dizzy from not breathing.

“Just be careful,” Max insisted, his hand tightening around my elbow. “Please.”

I looked at the long dark lashes over his eyes, at the size of his pupils, the faint redness to his cheeks, the crease between his eyes.

“Okay,” I breathed, non-convincingly.

His grip on my elbow loosened and heat curled in the center of my stomach as his eyes traveled to my lips. The tension on his face smoothened and was gone by the time he looked up into my eyes again.

“Breathe,” he whispered with a soft grin and took a step back, breaking the spell his proximity always put on me.

Air rushed into my lungs at his command and I stumbled backwards. Max chuckled and shook his head, putting gloves back over his hands to collect the pieces of tissue.

Annoyance crept into my body and my lips tightened in a straight line as I let the stationary drop to the floor before I angrily stomped off to get the cleaning agent.

Max Evans was annoying. Max Evans was really getting on my nerves.


____________________________________
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EIGHT

I placed my bag on the kitchen counter, brushing some errant strands of hair out of my face, just as my mother turned away from the sink. “Hi, Mom.”

I felt a chill go through me as she faced me.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said softly, not meeting my eyes.

I silently took in the prominent purple color below her eyes, like two large bruises, the translucency of her white and pale skin, the redness of her eyes, the visible blue veins around her temples and the dryness of her red hair.

She looked horrible.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a step around the kitchen island.

“Just tired,” my mother said, offering me a soft smile that desperately failed to reach her eyes.

“Are you sick, Mommy?” I asked in a small voice. It felt foreign to see her like this. My mom was this torrent of energy, fiery like the color of her hair and, discounting some occasional bouts of light colds, I had never actually seen her sick.

“I had a bad night, that’s all,” mom answered, turning to take a pot of boiling water off the stove.

“You were fine this morning,” I pointed out, wrenched by the strongest feeling that she was lying. What had happened in the hours I’d been at school? Mom had been scheduled to spend the day working at the restaurant, nothing else.

“Maybe you got food poisoning or something,” I suggested weakly, her appearance frightening me more than I dared to admit.

I watched her long slender fingers tremble as she struggled to hold the weight of the water-filled pan over the sink, while pouring out the boiling water.

“Maybe,” she mumbled and I walked up to her, silently replaced her grip on the pan with my own hands and used my body to gently shove her out of the way.

“Let me do that,” I said and looked at her over my shoulder. “Sit down, Mom.”

I tried not to register how she looked ready to pass out as she gingerly lowered herself to one of the kitchen chairs.

“Have you seen a doctor?” I asked, placing the warm pan on the cooling stove.

“If this doesn’t pass, I will,” my mom promised tiredly, her voice a bare whisper. “It’s probably just a 24-hour bug.”

“Right,” I said, turning to face her fully. My fear was blasting through my system, my brain numerating every fatal disease on the planet. “You would tell me if something was wrong, right?”

She mustered up a smile, placing her elbow on the table to support her tired head. “Of course, honey.”

I inhaled, trying to let it go. It was probably nothing. Mom was the epitome of health; it just couldn’t be serious. Right?

“Your father wanted to ask you something,” my mom said.

I wasn’t that inclined to leave her alone, but had to ask, “Where is he?”

“At the restaurant,” mom answered and I nodded.

I looked at her with blazing worry, biting my lower lip. “You’ll be okay?”

She laughed lightly; a laughter that ended with a hacking cough. I felt the blood freeze in my veins.

“Of course, honey,” she answered, her voice hoarse from the coughing and I thought I heard a wheezing to her breathing. “Just go.”

I hesitated before walking up to her and kissing her cold clammy cheek. “I love you, Mom.”

She smiled at me, her light-brown eyes filled with love. “Love you too, Lizzie.”
*****
“What’s wrong with mom?”

My father looked up from behind the counter, my voice clear over the regular sounds of a restaurant. “There’s something wrong with mom?”

“Haven’t you seen her?” I asked, frustration chilling my voice.

“She’s just tired,” dad said and discarded the whole thing with a shrug.

My concern faltered by his ease. Maybe I was overreacting. “You sure?”

“She’s never sick,” dad echoed my previous thoughts and looked up with a smile.

I paused, not being able to completely discard that nagging feeling of worry at the back of my head. “You wanted to talk to me about something.”

“Yes,” my father said and placed a pencil behind his ear. “That daughter and father camping trip - that’s this weekend, right?”

I groaned. Right. I’d forgotten. My dad loved those things. I didn’t. Don’t get me wrong; I love my dad. I love hanging out with him. But camping is not really my thing.

“Yes, I think it is,” I agreed with a sigh.

He rolled his eyes at me. “Relax, Lizzie. It’s not like it’s your execution.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I mumbled.

“Sorry?” he asked with a smile that told me he had heard every word.

I scratched behind my ear and worked up a smile, “Thanks for reminding me, Daddy”. I swirled around to return to our apartment on top of the restaurant. I was itching to get back to mom. But my dad’s voice stopped me.

“One more thing, sweetie.”

My shoulders slumped and I reluctantly turned towards him. “Yes?”

“Could you pick up some consumables at Amy DeLuca’s?” he thumbed through a pile of papers in front of me and pulled one out for me. “Just some straws, cups, napkins etc.”

I grimaced. “Tonight?” Hoping that he would say ‘no’.

“Please,” he said and my heart sank.

“I want to check in on mom,” I objected and saw his face softened at my reason for reluctancy.

“Sweetie,” he sighed. “I know you’re worried. But there’s nothing you can do. She just needs some rest. I’ll go up there and see to it that she goes to bed immediately. In the meantime, you should let your mind think about something else.”

Maybe some distraction would be a good thing. I sighed. “Fine.”

“Thanks, baby,” dad smiled and I reached over the counter to retrieve the car keys.

“I’ll be back in about one million years,” I said bitterly over my shoulder, my exaggeration met with my dad’s chuckle.

Everyone knew that Amy DeLuca was just as much of a chatterbox as her daughter. Which was the reason my dad avoided going there if he could. His time was too precious to be wasted on chit-chatting.

Apparently mine wasn’t.
*****
The back seat was filled with boxes of green alien straws, silver napkins, souvenirs, three alien cakes, plastic cups with alien print and toothpicks designed as metal probes.

My ears felt like they were bleeding from Amy’s incessant chatter which had me immediately turn down the volume on the car stereo before turning the car onto the road that would take me into Roswell. The DeLucas lived just outside of the city center.

The outskirts of Roswell - the suburbs you might call it - were lined with villas and occasional mansions. For some reason, a lot of well-off people had decided to move to Roswell. Something I had always found a bit weird. If you were rich, why would you move to Roswell of all places?

That’s why I found it very strange to see a homeless person walk unsteadily down the streets in the most well-to-do neighborhood. To be honest, I had never seen a homeless person in Roswell.

My curiosity getting the best out of me, I slowed the car somewhat as I approached the stiff figure, letting my gaze drift over the profile of the person as I drove past.

My heart lurched as I saw the face of the ‘homeless’ and my feet hit the brakes so hard that more than half of the boxes in the backseat fell to the floor, one of the cakes teetering on the edge of the seat. The car came to an abrupt stop and I held onto the steering wheel with whitening knuckles, catching my breath, before pushing the door open and getting out of the car.

I must’ve been mistaken. It couldn’t have been…

I walked around the rear of the car and looked in the direction of where the car had just passed. And there he was.

The handsome and well-off player Max Evans.

Only, if his eyes hadn’t been haunting my dreams, I probably wouldn’t have recognized him. His gait was stiff, his shoulders slumped, blood had dried in the corner of his mouth, his face was discolored in a worrisome patchwork… Even his clothes were torn.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, my hand shooting up in front of my mouth to cover my alarm.

I had a feeling he hadn’t noticed me as he stumbled closer to where I had stopped the car. His gaze was fixed on the ground, as if he was concentrating on every step he took.

I struggled to get my trembling legs moving, but once they were in motion I couldn’t seem to stop them. I was running by the time I stopped five feet from him.

“Max?” I whispered.

He froze, his body trembling in stillness, as he raised his face towards my voice. There was shock on his tarnished face and, appalled, I took in the details of his injuries. His swollen and bloody lips, the open wounds barely hidden in his hairline, the odd angle to his nose, the bruising around the top of his cheek and the bottom of his jaw.

“Oh my God,” I gasped and took a step closer.

He flinched and I stopped, my arm paused in the air without purpose, almost closing the distance between us.

“What are you doing here?” he croaked.

My heart sent pain out to the very tips of my fingers. Who had done this to him? “What happened?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Max continued, his voice breaking, fear in his eyes. “It’s too dangerous.”

But I wouldn’t listen. I almost laughed at his suggestion. He wanted me to just leave him here? In this state?

“Who did this to you?” I demanded, anger burning through me in a way I had never experienced before.

“Liz,” he whispered and my anger gripped me more firmly in its vice as I watched tears form in his eyes. I wanted to hurt whoever had done this to him. I wasn’t even sure why, but right then - I didn’t even care about the reason.

“Get in the car,” I demanded, struggling to reign in my anger as I surveyed our surroundings. Was his attacker still out there? Lurking in the shadows?

“No,” he said, probably intending for it to be more forceful than it actually was. Instead he swayed on the spot and I closed the distance between us and put my arm around his waist.

He was stiff against my body and I was pretty sure that he wanted to fight me off, but he was too damaged to have the energy. Instead he slumped against my side, almost making me fold under his weight.

“You shouldn’t be around me right now,” he whispered brokenly, his breath bearing the metallic smell of blood as it brushed against my cheek.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mumbled and gently guided him - one stiff step at the time - towards the passenger side of the car.

If I hadn’t been so worked up, so afraid and fueled with anger, my body surely would have heated at the touch of his fingers against the bare skin of my waist, where my shirt had ridden up. His fingers were digging into the soft skin of my side as he tried to anchor his arm around my back.

I’m sure he was in a lot of pain, but he didn’t cry out once as I opened the car door and helped him get into the small space.

My movements were frantic as I took a hold of the seatbelt and leaned across his broken body to fasten it in the lock. I felt his warmth all around me and my concern for his physical state was threatening to break me. But I had to be strong. When I really wanted to fold into his lap and comfort him in a hug, I pulled back, ducking out of the car, and closed the door.

Running around the rear of the car, I ripped the door to the driver’s side open and hopped in. Closing the door behind me, I was struck with the deafening silence of the car’s interior. As I looked over at the victim I had dragged into my car, I was made severely aware of the fact that we were very much alone. In a confined space.

I looked over at my involuntary passenger. His fists were tightly balled up against his bloodied jeans and his breathing was somewhat jerky as he stared straight ahead.

“Max,” I implored, but he wouldn’t look at me. I swallowed, my own hands fisting in anger. Who would do such a thing to a person? To a teenager? In Roswell? Nothing ever happened in Roswell!

Max might be a bit narcissistic and something of a smart-ass, but he certainly didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Who did this?” I asked, repeating my earlier question.

“Liz,” he whispered brokenly and I bit down on my lip hard to stop myself from screaming out in frustration. I had never felt like this. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out.

“Please take me home,” Max continued.

“No,” I shook my head, tasting blood from biting my lip too hard. “No, you need to go to the hospital.”

He looked over at me then and I felt tears pool in my eyes. His eyes were red and anguished, his swollen lips were begging me to, “Take me home.” I started to shake my head when he added, “My dad will help me.”

Right. His dad was a doctor.

I hesitated. “Are you sure? Isn’t it better if-“

He stretched his hand across the gear stick and grimaced slightly with the movement. Surprised, I let him take my hand. I looked down at our interlocked hands, both tainted by his blood.

“He’ll know what to do.”

I tried to think of what was the best thing to do. If I should listen to him or just go against his wishes and do the rational thing. But there were too many feelings running through my body right then and I couldn’t think clearly. Besides, he was making a rational argument: his dad was a doctor, after all.

I swallowed and nodded slowly. “Okay.”

His body slumped with a noticeable exhalation, “Thank you,” and he let go of my hand.

I took a deep breath, tried to reign my emotions in, and directed my eyes forward. My hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel and I took another deep breath. I could sense his eyes on my profile and I closed my eyes momentarily, gathering my strength, before turning the ignition, putting the car in gear and directing the car towards Max’s home.

The drive to Max’s house was quiet. I tried to not listen too closely to Max’s ragged breathing and tried not to dwell on suspicions that he might have a punctured lung or broken ribs. Maybe he was bleeding internally right now, minutes away from dying? I unconsciously pressed the gas further into the floor and ignored the look Max gave me as he brought a hand up to steel himself against the effects of the increased speed of the car.

We reached Max’s house in no time. I tried to maneuver the car to a stop as gently as I could, forgetting that the borderline reckless drive had probably jostled Max more than my stopping ever could.

I quickly unfastened my seatbelt, pushed the door open and practically ran around the car to help Max with his seatbelt before he could attempt to do so himself. I opened the door and my frantic hands repeatedly bumped against his as I pushed his hands away from the lock.

“Let me,” I grumbled.

I was sure that he would have laughed at me if the circumstances had been different. The fact that he didn’t told me how serious this was.

His warm breath brushed against the side of my throat as I unfastened the seatbelt.

I guided the seatbelt to retract from around his chest and leaned back slightly, lining my face up with his as I leaned over him. I inhaled at the sight of his face up-close, swallowing a gasped sob. His face seemed to be getting worse by the minute, growing more and more terrifying in color variation.

Swallowing back nausea I locked eyes with him and whispered, “You ready?”

He looked into my soul and from some warm place in his tarnished body, he murmured, “Thank you.”

I absently bit my lower lip and saw his gaze flicker to that point of focus. Mortified by my action, I instantly released my lip and nodded, taking his gratitude as an affirmation to my question, “Okay.”

I carefully put my arms around his middle, pushing my fingers between his hard back muscles and the soft cushion of the car seat. I heard his groan of pain against my ear as he pressed his forehead into the curve of my neck. Pressing my heels into the ground, I started pulling on his upper body to help him outside.

I’m pretty sure he did most of the work, but with mutual sounds of exertion we managed to get out of the car. Just as Max was straightening to almost his full height, there were steps on the gravel driveway behind me.

“Oh my- Max!”

I turned to see Isabel running towards us, worry and fear etched into her beautiful features. Following in her footsteps were two adults; Mr. and Mrs. Evans.

Max’s arm was across my shoulders, his side glued to mine, as he looked up at his family. Isabel immediately flung herself at her brother, inadvertently pushing me away. Max grunted with palpable pain and Isabel quickly jumped back, even though her hands continued to fuss over his face.

“What the hell happened?” she cried, tears tumbling uninhibited down her cheeks.

I looked over at the parents who had now reached the scene. I don’t think I had ever met them. The parents looked nothing like their children. Just like Isabel and Max really didn’t look much alike.

Odd.

But that wasn’t the weirdest thing. Mr. Evans reaction to his son’s condition was worse.

I jumped in fear as Mr. Evans boomed at the top of his lungs, “What the hell did you do?

But instead of shrinking back towards my car, I found myself moving in front of Max.

Max’s mother looked at me with a calm face and plastered a fake smile on her painted red lips. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“That’s Liz,” Isabel said, appearing uncertain about her role all of the sudden. Maybe her father’s outburst had surprised her too. “She’s our classmate.”

“Thank you for bringing our son home,” Mrs. Evans said politely. “Now, we need some time alone with our son.”

I looked at the anger on Max’s father’s face and held my ground. Fear coursed through me as I saw Mr. Evans’ eyes narrow.

If looks could kill…

“Why are you angry with him?” I demanded hotly. “He needs your help. He wanted me to bring him here so that you could help him.”

“We will, Liz,” Mrs. Evans said, the smile on her lips turning strained as she shot a worried look at her husband.

“Liz, go,” Max said quietly behind me and I felt him start to move.

I twirled around, grabbing his bloodied hand. “No.”

His damaged eyes looked at me and there was something really warm in his gaze partly concealed behind crystal clear fear. “Just leave. Please. I’m home now. I’ll be okay.”

I felt the anger from before creep back into me. “He’s yelling at you. I won’t leave you here with him.”

Maybe it was ridiculous, but I felt as if Max would be punished further - by his father - for getting beat up.

“I will only say this once, young lady,” chills ran down my spine as the dark and threatening voice of Mr. Evans filled the air. “Leave. Now.”

For the first time since I had seen Max Evans walking brokenly by the side of the road, barely able to remain on his feet, I felt tears fall down my cheeks. With my back still turned towards Max’s family, only Max could see my face.

His eyes glistened with concern, and something I couldn’t decipher, as he watched the tears slide down my cheeks. He gingerly brought his free hand up to my cheek, letting his thumb brush against my skin as he whispered softly, “I’ll be okay. Go home. Your mom needs you more than me.”

I closed my eyes against his touch for a second, before his words hit me like a sledgehammer.

Your mom needs you.

My eyes flung open and I stared at him, seeing the realization hit him just as suddenly as it hit me. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“Liz, I’m-“

“How do you know about my mom?”

“Now is not the tim-“

I swallowed back the tears, squeezing his hand in mine, demanding an explanation. “I never told you about my mom.”

“Someone told me that she wasn’t feeling well,” Max mumbled, his eyes pleading for me to let it go.

“Who?” I whispered, begging him to tell me the truth. “Who, Max?”

No one knew. No one knew that my mom was not herself. I had just found out myself.

“I was at the CrashDown earlier today; I saw her,” Max explained.

“Liz, you should leave,” Isabel said to my right and I watched Max quickly look away from me, in the direction of where I presumed his parents were standing.

“No,” Max said forcibly. “You leave her alone.”

His fierce order froze my heart and I got the feeling that I was on enemy ground and that I had my back turned towards that said enemy.

“You make her leave right now, Maxwell,” his father threatened, “Or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

My heart galloped in my chest and my hand started to tremble, still holding onto Max’s hand. Max probably felt the tremble and looked back at me.

“I’ll explain later,” he promised calmly, but I found myself not caring if he would or not. Suddenly I really needed to get out of there. But I also wanted to take Max with me. Would I really be able to leave Max with this monster of a father?

He squeezed my trembling hand and gave my body a gentle shove in the direction of my car. I looked over my shoulder and met Mr. Evan’s eyes. I instantly regretted that I had done so. I’d never seen anything more terrifying than that man’s face at that moment.

Still, something deep inside of me made me sharply say, “If you lay one hand on him…”

The corners of Mr. Evans’ mouth twitched and my fists balled at the side of my body, wanting to punch him for almost smiling in this situation.

“He’s my son,” Mr. Evans said coldly. “He’ll get the treatment he deserves.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I flickered a nervous look in Max’s direction, wanting him to soothe my nerves. But Max wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at his father, his body tense.

“See you, Max,” I said quietly.

“Yeah,” Max answered, still not looking at me.

With an ice cold heart I got into my car and drove off, refraining from looking in the rearview window as I left Max to his family.
*****
“My God… Liz, what happened to you? Are you hurt?”

Paternal hands were flying across my face and whispering over my body. The parental love and concern fractured the ice around my heart and I sank to my knees as sobs were wrenched out of my body.

“Baby, baby,” my dad whispered, kneeling next to me and pulling me into his arms, rocking me back and forth.

I could hear the fear in his voice as he tried to comfort me. The fear of the situation with Max’s parents had finally hit me, and the fear and worry for his well-being was suffocating. But mostly I cried about Max not having this; not having parents that comforted him and held him when he was in pain.

“I’m fine,” I sobbed. “I’m fine.”

“Please tell me what happened,” my father whispered and I could hear the tears in his voice.

He had seen the blood on my hands, on my clothes. Max’s blood. Of course he was assuming it was mine.

“It’s not my blood,” I croaked as the sobs calmed.

“Then who…?” My father tenderly brushed the hair away from my face, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

“A friend,” I replied. “I found him hurt on the side of the road. When I was driving back from Maria’s.”

My father looked at me, fear in his eyes. “Is your friend okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly and my voice broke, tears threatening to return. I swallowed them back. “I brought him to his place.”


“Okay,” my dad said slowly. I expected him to ask more questions, but he just pulled me back into his arms, hugging me tightly.

“How’s mom?” my voice was muffled against his shirt.

“Asleep,” my dad answered. “She was exhausted.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, waiting for the relief that should come with his reply. But it didn’t come. I needed to see her for myself.

I pulled back and looked up at my father’s face. He looked tired, his face worn and haunted. “Can I see her?”

“Of course, baby,” dad replied. “Just be quiet.”

I pressed a kiss to his cheek and gave him a final hug with a whispered, “Love you, Daddy,” before crawling out of his arms and making my way over to my parents’ bedroom.

I carefully pushed the door open, watching the light from the living room stream into the dark bedroom.

I just needed to see that she was breathing.

I quietly walked up to the bed, to the still form of my mother, and fell to my knees next to the bed. I grew still, watching her closely. It was not until I saw her chest move and felt the breath cross her lips that I relaxed. The relief weakened my body and I suddenly felt drained as the events of the past few hours caught up with me.

This had been the evening from hell.

I tenderly brushed at her hair and whispered, “I love you, Mom.”

She didn’t stir, deep in the grip of sleep. I sat by her side for another five minutes, before getting to my feet and leaving her alone.


TBC...
Last edited by max and liz believer on Sat Jul 01, 2017 6:56 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Unbreakable (M/L, AU)
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