Like I said, stupid. It won’t make you happy or anything.
Disclaimer: Nope. Roswell does not belong to me. It’s all yours.
Pairing: M/L
Breathe
He was everywhere, surrounded her, his strong arms wrapped around her old, frail body. She could hear his voice in the wind as it ruffled the hair of her granddaughter, feel the heat of his body in the sun’s rays as it set, beaming down at her dry, wrinkled skin. His face was in the ripples and waves of the white-chipped ocean, his heated touches were in the sultriness of the night, his eyes in the sky.
He had promised he would come back.
He had promised her, and she had believed.
Her granddaughter smiled radiantly at her as she twirled around in her bathing suit, dancing in the sand. The little thing fell, and her son, the girl’s father, was by her side immediately.
Smiling lovingly at her little family, she walked on, as far as her stiff muscles would take her. He had loved the beach. They’d been there several times, had made love in the sand, had kissed, caressed and smiled.
He had abandoned her.
He had gone to find his son, leaving an unborn son behind.
She sat down on a rock, and watched the waves roll onto the beach, stranding again and again. He was alive. She could still feel his soul, his mind, through their connection. It was a vague, comforting presence in her meaningless, hectic existence, the whispered words she heard when she cried.
He had gone, and hadn’t returned.
He had gone, and she?
She had let him.
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