Waiting for you (M/L, Mature) 1/1 10-3-06

Finished Canon/Conventional Couple Fics. These stories pick up from events in the show. All complete stories from the main Canon/CC board will eventually be moved here.

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Lulù
Enthusiastic Roswellian
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Joined: Wed Aug 30, 2006 7:41 am
Location: Southern Italy

Waiting for you (M/L, Mature) 1/1 10-3-06

Post by Lulù »

Coupling: M/L

Summary: this one-parter Liz’s POV story goes into a subject which writers dealt with too superficially. After “WDAMYK” (3,15) when Liz dampened Max’s hopes of getting immediately back together, we found them practising ‘podiatry’ under a Crasdown table (3,16). The next episode (3,17) Max and Liz kissed and cuddled very passionately on her bed no less. But what did it happen in the meanwhile? How did they get back together? This is my personal idea about it, a fluff interlude where alien stuff and intergalactic troubles don’t find room, just for once.

Rating: Mature, I think

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. I just love them :)

Author’s note: that’s my first attempt to translate into Elglish my Italian fics. So… be indulgent to me! Feedbacks we’ll be really welcome, of course.


Waiting for you


The tinkling bells onto CD’s door deter me one more time from this weird calculation I undertook. Sighing to myself, I look down over my block-notes casually opened on top of this secluded table where we’ve been seating. It’s quite impossible to calculate how many words Maria can say within one minute, particularly when she’s as furious as today. In fact, to say isn’t the most appropriate verb to describe what she’s doing. It would be much more to grumble out half-mangled, rage-loaded syllables. I halt to observe her with my head inclined to a side, as she split out another series of curses of which I don’t grasp a lot. I only understand that they have to do with Michael and which she would do to – Maria’s actual words – his fucking alien ass.

This girl almost scares me! If I don’t know her basically since when I know myself, I’d think she’s an alien as well, popped up out of a jelly pod in a cave and already set to chat! Sometimes she’s able to spoke so speedily that I wonder how she can also breath at the same time. Evidently it’s all thanks her notable pulmonary capacities that allowed her to turn into an excellent singer. I’d have to suppose that when she asked me to study together this afternoon, she didn’t really intend to swot over books, but to confide in me. At school she couldn’t do it this morning, except for the five minutes we shared in the hallway, in front of our lockers, and a too brief chat in the girls bathroom. Definitely it wasn’t enough.

Micheal has done it, he’s gone too far this time! For his insane behaviour in the last few days, when it had been flashing on his chest the royal seal of Antar, on no account he can be excused. He was arrogant, unreasonable and overbearing to everyone, infringing our group rules. To Jesse and Maria, in addition, he was even unforgivable. He accused him of being FBI’s informer and treated her just like a slut he had approached at random. I’m afraid it could take a lot before both of them speak to him again, considering that he isn’t exactly killing himself to be forgiven…

“Maybe you’ve just to calm down. Try to talk to him and listen to his own version …” I dare to propose, cutting off the train of her insults. Shit! What on earth was I thinking about?

Maria gazes at me with huge eyes as, if I’d just suggest her to jump off a bridge. “WHAT? Talk to him? Liz, that asshole is NOT able to talk!” she shakes her head and slaps down an hand on top of the table, making it wobble. I’m already sorry for not having shut up. Shit again! “What the hell might he say? He was out of his mind and shoved me out of the car in motion. That’s all. There’s no need of any addition here!”

I slowly lean against the back behind me, trying to hide my light annoyance from her. What the heck is wrong with me? I’ve always been a good listener, when someone needed to be listened, in particular if that someone was Maria. But which was true since now it seems to be no more. “So, what are you gonna do?” I ask in an listless swish that she doesn’t grasp. “If you don’t talk to him, you won’t ever sort things out…”

“I’m a total foolish to get so pissed off!” she replies as if she didn’t even hear my earlier assertion. “That’s no surprising, I know who I’m dealing with!” she puffs after she nervously crosses her legs. This talk sounds more and more incoherent and neither of us seems to intend to change course. “It’s ever been like that, but this time we’re not together at least …”

“Are you sure?” I ask in a sudden burst of voice, my level of attention brusquely leaping up.

“Sure of what?” Maria blinks at me as her angry expression promptly changes into a curious one.

“That it’s really over between you and Michael,” I explain, recuperating my habitual measured tone. “You’re not looking like one who doesn’t care about him!” Despite the seeming concentration, I feel my own interest slip away once more and there’s no need for me to think over to suppose where it’s heading. I just know.

Maria turns a deaf ear at my remark, as she fiddles with a strand of her blond hair twisting round her finger. If I were in mood to philosophize I can say ‘silence means consent’, but I simply pass over. I guess she wouldn’t take it very well. “I’m thinking I might change something in my hair … I mean, a sort of variation,” she admits absent-mindedly. “Maybe the colour … or the cut. I’m gonna ask Isabel the favour.”

Since I seat just in front of the main door, I’m the first to notice when Michael enters the CD. Remembering that today it’s his day off, I don’t take a lot to imagine why he’s here now. Maria realizes his arrival only the moment he comes near our table and greets us. I can predict effortlessly that this won’t be at all a friendly meeting.

“Hi girls. How … how are you?” he stammers in a discomfort which couldn’t be more obvious.

Maria doesn’t even turn to him. She just pulls secretly faces at him and take her yet unopened algebra book, pulling it under her arm. “Badly, actually very badly … now!” she emphasizes the last word. Then I see her stand up and walk towards me. “This place is suddenly too tight to me.” She leans forward to rapidly kiss my cheek. “I’ll phone you later,” she says, and she’s already flown away. When I hear the sound of her heels beating on the pavement, I understand she won’t go back .

“She didn’t leave because of me, did she?” Michael has the nerve to say, still immobile in front of me like a statue.

“Nooo, you kidding?” it’s my ironical reply. Glancing at him I can see that he looks as guiltless as a lamb. It’s just incredible! “After all, you didn’t do anything to get such a treatment!”

“That’s right!” Michael exclaims firmly, finally managing to move his foot sideways.

I gape in disbelief at his wide open eyes. ”Are you serious?” No, I say to myself, he can’t be serious!

“Yes I am!” he reaffirms, his arms holding on his chest like he’s going to fight back. And in fact he does. “Truth to tell I’m sick of having continuously to feel guilty for something I did or said to one of you guys!”

Even though I don’t want to quarrel, I can’t help to make him a cutting remark. “Well, the next time see you don’t win the first prize as idiot of the year!” I state calmly but resolutely.

I expect from him a sharp comment, but Michael turns on his heels and walks his way back to the door, mumbling through his teeth. While I don’t give a damn about him muttering, I let him go away and move my block-notes closer to me. Goodness knows whether I will able to study, now that I’m all alone. A both indistinct and persistent buzzing, increasing inside my ears, makes me feel anxious. In spite of myself I desperately wish he were here with me ...

Just to sum up… it wasn’t me who wanted that?

*~*~*

By the time I return to my room, about two hours later, I have a slight headache that annoy me quite a lot. Although it’s time to have dinner, I’m not really hungry. Which is why, calling in at the kitchen, I begged my mum to not wait for me, on the excuse that I had still to study. I put my block-notes down on the desk, before having a quick glance around me, and then decide to lie down on the bed, undecided whether to look up at right side of the ceiling or the left one. Eventually I look at neither of them. My eyes torpidly closing, I lie in silence and just feel myself. The first feeling that touches me is amazement. What the hell could I keep the thought of him out of my mind, until now?

The phone rings unexpectedly across the room and startles me, interrupting my consideration. I’m not in time for picking up and the answering machine answers instead of me. So I seat up, my legs dangling over the end of the bed, my ear pricking up. I’m practically sure that it’s Maria on the phone, in the first place because she said she’d call me, leaving CD, and in the second place because she must have a myriad of new insults to split out, after the close encounter with Michael in the afternoon. But I’m wrong all along. The voice echoing through the air, just after the acoustic signal, isn’t my best friend’s, but another one infinitely more warm, sexy and masculine which make me throb with delight every time I happen to listen to it. Max’s voice.

“Hey Liz… I’m calling to ask you if we might … you know, meet tonight. Maybe one of those friends stuff or something, just to enjoy ourselves together, even if it is nothing exceptional. Unless you’ve made other arrangements, of course. It looked like we were having a good time the other evening at mini-golf, until it happened that Jesse thing … or it was just my wrong impression? It’s a little strange. I was pretty sure that you were home now … I guess, not sure, I sorta felt it. I … ok, forget it. I’m realizing this whole call sounds a little senseless. You aren’t even there, so my proposal doesn’t make sense anyway. I’m sorry. See ya tomorrow at school.”

Once I hear him hang up and silence envelops me again, my eyes blink vacantly, my mouth opens wide. The hand I laid on my thigh as a reflex action starts slightly to quiver. There’s no need for me to listen once more to his message, everything he said it’s already engraved in my mind. God, my heart just skipped a beat! I could fall apart at this very moment. Ah, the way he whispered my name. So sweetly, so devotedly, almost as if he was afraid to say it more loudly. Almost as if he thought he hadn’t anymore the right even to say my name after all that happened between us, after all that I told him. The things can’t go back to the way they were.

All at once I’m aware that I didn’t keep his thought completely out of my mind. I just ignored it to focus on Maria’s bad mood at first and then on studying. But now I’m here, seated on my bed, the quiet of my room surrounding me, with a silly look on my face, no intrusion to repress my feelings, and I miss him so dreadfully. It’s both a physical and emotional need. I miss touching him, being physically in touch with him. I miss kissing him and being kissed back. I miss his warm hands running trough my hair, on my skin, all over my body. And I miss his soul too. Pure, innocent, limpid. I miss his gentleness, his passion. I miss seeing myself reflected into him, the way he see me. Above all I miss his love. Which is why I left Vermont in a great hurry. I couldn’t live incessantly afraid that something happened to him, like when the Meta-Chem went up in flames, and I was too far or busy to learn of it. I couldn’t stand another minute in a place so distant from Roswell, so distant from him.

Yeah, right. But why am I so terrified of starting over, then?

I feel so confused, I don’t know what I want or how to comprehend that. I’m scared to death of being with him, but even more of being without him. All I know for sure is that I’ll see him much sooner he may thinks. Surely not tomorrow at school.

Finding somewhere deep down me strength enough to stand up, I take the black jacket I hung on a seat a few hours ago and wear it on; then I walk across the room to reach the window. When I climb over it and come out on the balcony, I automatically undo my hair, letting the fresh night air toss it. I’m sure he likes better me with my hair down, there’s no doubt about it, and it makes my insides boil with bliss remembering his fingers tangling into my long locks. I climb down in a flash the fire escape leading on the road. The night is tepid and serene outside here, lots of stars are twinkling up there in the sky and Michael’s apartment didn’t ever seem as far as now.

*~*~*


The blue Chevelle parked next to the sidewalk is the patent prove of his presence. My head begins frantically to spin at the consciousness, as if I’ve just drained a whole bottle of tequila on an empty stomach. When I sharply knock at the door I feel my mind become foggy, gradually loosing sense of reality. My stability worsens even more the moment Max appears in the doorway, hanging over me with his whole, stunning shape.

His hair looks ruffled, as if he’s just passed his hand through it. His eyes are half-closed, at first; but as soon as he opens them a little more, focusing on me, I’m just overwhelmed by their brightness. A charming harmony of green, gold and brown enlightens in front of me, nearly dazzling me. I’ll always and anyhow bewitched by his alluring eyes. Always.

After my gaze slithers down on his chest, I notice that his t-shirt is crumpled on the hem, uncovering a little piece of his sculpted abdomen. More downward, his muscular thighs are hided in a pair of quite large sweats. But I know very well what magnificence stretches beneath the soft material and even this looseness attracts me.

I don’t know how long I stand here, just looking him up and down like a total idiot. He’s so wonderful that I gotta take a step back to not lose my balance. Luckily, Max seems not to pay attention to my manners since he’s too shocked by having me at a few inches from his face. When he decides to break the surreal silence that’s trapping us I’m immensely grateful to him …

“Liz…?” he murmurs huskily, holding on to the handle of the door.

I catch his eyes hovering all over me, fluctuating between my blushed face and my slender waist, keenly lingering over my breast, which this pink tank top is showing off, in spite of the jacket I’m wearing on it. As I make mentally note of this detail that might be useful to me in future, his exploration goes on, trailing down along my legs as far as he finds my feet. Then he stares back at my face. For a second I feel just like his hand is about to reach out for mine, in a gesture of spontaneous tenderness But he just moves off from the doorway to let me in. His reason must have reminded him that I asked for going slowly and, at this precise moment, I madly hate myself for that.

“Hi Max,” I greet him as I step in, a soft smile crossing my lips. He smiles me back but rapidly turns serious, closing the door in a haste. Now I realize that the hem of his shirt isn’t crumpled anymore. What a shame…

“What… are you doing… here?” he stutters, having his back still to me. I wordlessly plead with him to turn around, giving me the joy to admire his loving features, and he does. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not complaining you’re here but … why did you come?” he adds, following me with his eyes as I walk inside the apartment.

I can feel myself blush at having him so close, I just can’t help it, and the more I think we are alone, in a place where we passionately, avidly made out two years ago, the more my blush increases. “I thought we could do one of those friends stuff or something, just to enjoy ourselves together, even if it is nothing exceptional,” I answer with the same words he told me on the phone a short while ago.

It looks like my answer quite disconcerted him, since he take a few moments to clear his throat and say, “You heard my message.” It isn’t a question. “You were at home when I called.” Neither is it.

Nevertheless I need to confirm. “Yeah,” I sigh, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. Max knows perfectly well I do that when I’m ill-at-ease, so I stop immediately it and get close to him. His scent starts to invade my nostrils, inexorably overpowering me. I’ve to lean my hand against the wall to not fall flat on my face.

“Why didn’t you want to answer?” Max asks in a tone more velvety than the previous one. His face already softened and I may state his eyes are just shining. Are mine shining too with the same fond light? I’d swear so.

I take a few steps forward to reach the counter and sit down in the right stool. I get on it very cautiously to not risk a clumsy slip. “It’s not that I didn’t want to answer … actually I wasn’t in time to.” Before I go on with my explanation I take the jacket off and rest it on my lap. Then I look up at his amazing eyes. He’s staring back at me, just like I hoped. “See, I was a bit lost in thought …”

“Really?” his voice can’t conceal a hint of satisfaction. Probably he supposed that my anxiety has something to do with him. What a smart guy!

“I’m worried about Maria,” I fib, although it’s a white lie. I’m not ready yet to tell him explicitly, without compromises, that it’s going me crazy to stay away from him. “Michael came to CD this afternoon when also I and Maria were there and she ran away as soon as she caught a glimpse of him.”

Max takes a deep breath, looking a little disappointed at my words. He moves in front of me and falls down in the free stool. “Um, I’d had to guess that it has to do with her,” he frowns, bending his head to the opposite side. So I stare in daze at his perfect Renaissance profile. If I could sculpt or paint in a passable way, I’d want him as my exclusive model for ever and ever. “When Michael repeats three times one after the other that he’s fine, it means that there’s something fishy about this,” he deduces quietly.

“Where is he now?” it comes naturally to me to demand. It’s better to know as soon as possible if I must expect Michael’s sulky face appears behind us any moment now or him just intervene in the middle of our conversation with some sardonic comments of his.

“He went with Kyle to the bowling alley,” he responds as naturally as I asked. I think I caught a touch of relief in his answer. So he is pleased about Michael’s absence, is he? About me and him being here alone? If he really were, he wouldn’t be the only one. So am I, pleased … and anxious. My hands, tightly clasped on my legs, start to sweat in the middle of the palms.

“Did he go with Kyle and not with you? Uh, that’s what you call a betrayal!” I joke, as my eyebrows arch, hoping to relieve this tense atmosphere passing between us. Drawing a smile from him it’s the most fulfilling thing I can think about, at present. Okay, not the most fulfilling one in absolute terms!

The moment his lips widen with that beautiful smile I yearned so much for, I’ve to hold back from throwing my arms round his neck. When he smiles so breathtakingly like now, every inch of my body shudder with ecstasy. I’d like seeing him forever this way. “Well, actually he suggested me to go,” he specifies, an amused glow twinkling in his eyes. “It was me who said no.” Is he longing for me just like I’m longing for him? Doesn’t he trust himself too, when we’re so close?

In order to escape from this fervent sensation, I scan across the room for something to look at. On top of the coffee table facing the couch there’s a box where I can see a sliced pizza. “Were you going to eat?” I ask out of the blue, making him raise his eyes in a jerk. That’s no surprising, I changed subject so suddenly.

Max hesitates for a little while, probably frightened of consequences that could come from his words. “Yeah, but we can go out if you want --“

“No, let’s stay here,” I interrupt him instinctively, before I lose any ability to speak. It’s that, isn’t it? He fears that I wanna go out, isn’t he? Ah, if only he could read my mind! “Unless you have some objection, of course.”

When Max stands up without even glancing at me, heading for the coffee table, I’m almost afraid I could have irritated him somehow. “I have no objection at all,” he whispers so intensely, turning to me with an enchanting smile, so erotically that I shudder from head to foot. Wow, he has a way with his voice! And what about his eyes? What are they doing to me, now? I don’t know … But, whatever it is, it’s just mesmerizing. “Shall we share this?” he offers as he sit down in the couch, holding the box between his hands.

“Sure!” I purr, and placing my jacket on the stool I rush to his side. I find myself extremely quick to act and think as well, when it needs to.

After I’ve taken a seat in the other end oh the couch - it seems to be a reasonable safe distance – he hands to me a slice of pizza in a napkin, the box positioned on his knees. Max waits for me to have my meal, then he gets his own slice and bites into it. As I tastefully chew my first mouthful I remember not having even wash my hands before eating. I can nearly see an arm of germs hopping triumphantly up and down over my skin, eager to attack my immune system. To hell with my obsession about hygiene! If I got some horrible infection or something, Max would surely heal me. He could cure me of every disease, whether it’s physical or not. He’s my personal healer.

As we devour the pizza, one slice a time to each of us, seconds pass as slow as oil. This embarrassing closeness hushed both of us. On the other hand, what might we say? Talk of this and that? Speak about weather? Maybe I could ask him about his plans for after graduation … No, commonplaces aren’t suitable for us. We haven’t ever been hypocritical with each other. It’s better to be silent and just enjoy this moment.

I can’t resist the temptation to look at him, though. I just can’t help doing it. I have to do it. Giving him a shy look, his head leaned over the box, I can see a little sauce stain on his chin. “Ahem, Max?” I call him in an undertone.

“Yeah?” he queries, his head springing up towards me.

“You stained your face,” I say in a soft hiss like I’m talking to a child. Okay, I must admit I’m not thinking of him in a really motherly way!

He stiffens with embarrassment, touching his face in search of the unwanted stain. “Where?” he pouts.

“Just here,” I reach out for the coffee table and take a clean napkin to wipe his chin. Then I gently rub it until the stain disappears. I’m going to move back when his hand rises to cover mine and not let me go. He shuts his eyes at this moment and I think I know why. He wants to savour my touch in every sense and I can feel I’m just about to give up. Undeniably. Irrefutably.

“Please … touch me again, Liz …” when he murmurs this irresistible plead, his eyes still closed, his warm hand wrapping mine to keep it against his face, I completely surrender to him.

I crawl closer to him, kneeling down on the couch to settle myself in a more comfortable position. My hand traces a caressing way up to his cheek, as I stroke him lovingly with both my palm and fingertips. I’d want this caress can be endless. I’d prolong it eternally if I could do. My other hand has placed on his shoulder, partly ‘cause I need a support, partly ‘cause I need even more to touch his body. He’s imperceptibly trembling beneath me and I let out a faint moan from the bottom of my throat.

“Oh God, Max!” I rest my head against his so that our foreheads fix together, and now it’s when he opens his eyes again. Our intense gazes merge into each other, as his hands encircle my waist to hold me tight. This electric shake deriving from our contact creeps up all along my spine, settles between my collarbones and then slides down again, spreading through my lower body. I’m just burning with passion.

“What’s happening between us?” he hisses more hoarsely than he ever did. Shivers I had a few instants ago are nothing compared with this jolt of sheer excitement feverishly traversing me at this moment. “What do you really want, Liz?” He’s staring at me so adoringly, so expectantly that I can’t let him wait too long for my answer.

“Well, we could be very close friend with good probabilities of turning into something more,” I state, conforming to his husk tone. The hand I previously kept against his face is now playing with the short locks at the nape of his neck, whereas his hands are climbing up along the sinuous shape of my back, drawing me into his appealing body. I can’t deny anymore the fact that I’m literally dying to kiss him. But…

How close?” Max urges me in his persistent, touching devotion. I gladly realize that his left hand must have torn away from my back and now is tracing the outline of my lips. So I separate them to let him have access also to the inner part, breathing in his breath until it becomes mine too. The moment his thumb seeps hesitantly into my mouth and finds my tongue, I eventually stop fighting.

I stop reasoning. I stop analysing. I stop being scared. I stop doing everything but loving him, more overwhelmingly than I ever did before. I feel this sentiment growing more and more inside me. It’s so pressing, so piercing that if it evaporates someway I just couldn’t survive anymore.

“Close enough to do this,” that’s all I’m able to moan before I straddle him, holding my breath into my throat.

As I sit down on his brawny hips, our groins sexually grinding together, a new burst of arousal radiates from our entangled body and I find myself to release unconsciously my breath. He’s simply huge under the zip and I feel so wrenched that I can’t even suppose what it could happen if we were naked instead of entirely dressed. He quickly cupped my face and I lean forward to meet him, securely holding on to his shoulders. The first stroke between our lips, hardly opened and timorous, is only a taste; but every hesitation just disappears when we have the complete meal. My tongue joins his in a slow rub that makes both of us moan throatily, until our mouths melt and we aren’t aware of anything but this breathtaking kiss. After a time which I can’t and I don’t want to measure, we reluctantly break away from each other. Then I bend my neck to one side and offer myself to his hungry mouth, as the tip of my tongue licks the sensitive flesh of his lobe.

“Do you wanna hear why I didn’t went out with Michael?” Max pants against my shuddering skin. He raised my hair with his hand and traces a line of moist demanding kisses on the space between my neck and my collarbone, pulling down the strap of my tank top in the process.

“Yeah, tell me why, Max …” I pant in my turn, my head arching backwards in this blissful ecstasy he’s making me feel. I place my hands on his pectoral muscles, so I can feel his pounding heartbeat against my palm. I fell into a trap of love which I don’t want escape from.

He lifts up his face from my neck and look me straight in the eyes, his emotion becoming mine too. Then he say in a weak voice, “Because I’ve been waiting for you…”

I’m so totally moved at his words and feel like the tears collect at the corners of my eyes are ready to drip down on my cheeks. I struggle to not cry, though. I’d like to return his tender declaration but I just can’t do. No problem. If I can’t express by voice how I love him, how I’ve been ever loving him, I shall use my body language.

I seriously intend to make sure Max don’t have to regret, not even for a moment, that he didn’t go out with Michael. Bowling is surely a very amusing sport, an undoubtedly pleasant diversion. But that I planned for him here, tonight, in the minutes to come, will be much more pleasant than bowling…

- The End -
WIP

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