Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, all characters and original Roswell verse settings belong to other very lucky people.
Pairings/Couples/Category: UC/CC, L/K, L/M, L/Mi
Rating: Teen
Summary: Sometimes you wake up, sometimes the fall kills you, and sometimes when you fall, you fly. Liz’s reflections on the three men she’s loved.
Warnings: A bit sweet and a bit angsty, vague references to sexual situations and death.
A/N: Just a small little one shot inspired by the Neil Gaiman quote.
Falling
Sometimes you wake up.
He was sweet, charming, popular, but with hints of hidden depths and a genuine good nature that his jock status couldn’t conceal. He looked at her and she felt warm inside, like she was special because she was the source of the light in his twinkling blue eyes. He made her laugh, not like Alex and Maria did, but with that flirty edge that made her giggle and butterflies swarm in her stomach. He liked to surprise her, and laughed when her eyes would go wide and her hands would go up over her mouth.
When he kissed for the first time, her lips tingled and she felt awkward and inexperienced, but the way his eyes sparkled, the gentle way he touched her cheek, melted away the awkwardness as she blushed, feeling like a girl in a John Hughes movie. They shared a milkshake on their first date and he surprised her again with a sense of humor that went farther than bodily functions or animals acting crazy.
Being with him was easy, was like breathing, like smiling, and for the first month of summer it was the most fun she’d ever had, the most special she’d ever felt. But after that month the glow started to fade, the butterflies stopped fluttering, and her lips no longer tingled when he kissed her. He was still sweet, still charming, and she still cared about him, but she knew it wasn’t love and it made her heart ache for him because he still had that light in his eyes – that light just for her – and she didn’t want to put it out.
Sometimes the fall kills you.
He was quiet, mysterious, soulful, but with moments of affection and absurdity that proved him more human than alien. He looked at her and she felt like she couldn’t breathe under the intensity of his regard, making her feel like she was the center of his world. He made her feel important, like she was part of something bigger than herself, and every glance, every touch, made her feel faint. He tried to keep his distance, to say it wasn’t safe, but she felt his eyes on her and knew that the distance wouldn’t last.
When he kissed her for the first time, she saw stars and felt a tingling rush of energy throughout her entire body, from her head to her toes. There was no room for awkwardness, or embarrassment, only him, and she suddenly knew that he was the center of her world as well. It was a while before they had a real date, their evenings more consumed with danger and conspiracies than romance, but she treasured that one night of normality when he ‘taught’ her to play pool, a memory she clung to as her hope for the future when the darkness grew deeper and deeper.
Being with him was so difficult it was almost impossible, but when she wasn’t with him she felt like she couldn’t breathe, like she no longer knew how to live without him, even when it seemed like the entire universe was conspiring to keep them apart. The darkness kept growing and her world kept spinning and eventually, she had to learn how to breathe on her own again, because she no longer recognized the look in his eyes, when he looked at her at all.
And sometimes when you fall, you fly.
He was complicated, stoic, rough-edged, but with cracks in his stone wall that revealed the beautiful, if broken, soul that hid within. He looked at her and she felt herself burn, a real woman, flaws and all, who ached for his touch. He made her feel safe, like no matter what happened, between them, or in their complicated lives, that he would always be there, supporting her. He liked to watch her, with that enigmatic smile of his, and only under his warm gaze did she feel like both a wanton temptress and a blushing bride.
Every time he kissed her, she felt like he had a lit a fire beneath her skin as his love and desire, so carefully guarded, seeped into her with every brush of his lips, and she knew she’d never be alone again. Whenever he took her on a date, at least one that Isabel would call a date, she fell a little but more in love with him as he ignored his own feelings of embarrassment and inadequacy to make her feel special; afterwards she always made sure to seduce him in the laundry room, or on his bike, or in the pantry at the Crashdown when they visited her parents, just to remind him what her favorite kind of ‘date’ was.
Being with him meant being herself, sometimes easy, sometimes hard, and always worth it. There were moments of domestic bliss, moments when she cursed herself for ever moving in with such a stubborn, pigheaded man, and moments when she thanked her lucky stars that he put up with such a stubborn, pigheaded woman. But she lived for the moments when they would both look up from whatever they were doing and their eyes would meet and she would know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would always be there to catch her when she fell.
