Banner art by Annie. It's just so beautiful!
Thank you, Annie!A Night To Remember
Author: Me.
Summary: AU. No aliens. Max and Liz’s parents were against their relationship, and they haven’t spoken to each other for a long time. Two years after their break-up, they’ve graduated and are about to leave for separate colleges. Liz isn’t able to let Max leave without a last goodbye, though…
Rating: MATURE
Pairings: M/L
Disclaimer: Roswell isn't mine, never will be. Title belongs to the band SheDaisy. Great lyrics.
If you want to read Last Goodbye, the sequel (I know, it's weird
) to this fic, story, just go here,[/] okay? <center>Chapter 1</center>
She slipped past the gate, the cool, metal knob - though so long not touched - still familiar to her. It was dark outside, the kind of darkness that makes you feel as if you’re all alone in the universe, as if the night has swallowed everybody and everything else, as if they'd become the stars and planets in the sky above. His parents weren’t home, she knew, and if Maria had done as promised, Isabel wouldn’t be home either. It would be just him and her, like in the old days.
Slightly stumbling over a lost spade, she reached his window and peered through the reflective glass. There he was, in his bed, peacefully asleep. She pushed against the window, and he sat up, disoriented looking around him. Or maybe not so asleep. She mentally shrugged, and opened the window further. He didn’t speak, but just looked at her, following every move she made. She gracefully swung her legs over the windowsill and with a soft thud, she landed on the floor. He still didn’t say a thing, still didn’t move. He just watched her.
Watched her like he had the past two years, from a distance.
Slowly, carefully, she made her way to him, her eyes radiating determination, her face showing her hesitation. Just in front of his bed, she stood still and smiled weakly. Tears she hadn’t noticed before stung her eyes, her heart reaching out for him. “Liz?” he brokenly whispered, incredibly soft, as if he feared she might disappear when he talked too loud, and he carefully extended his arm, his fingers brushing over her arm. Was she really there, in his room?
She removed the clip that had held her hair together and allowed it to fall back to her shoulders, the strands waving down, reaching for her back. He kept his eyes locked with hers, his amazement growing. As she started to unbutton her blouse, he inhaled sharply, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest. Her hands descended to the zipper of her skirt and he shook his head, trying to stop her.
“Please, Max?” she begged and her voice, though soft as a feather falling to the ground, broke the sacred silence in the room.
He didn’t understand.
“Why?”
She let her skirt slide down along her legs and stepped out of the heap of clothing. After carefully folding her skirt and blouse, she looked at him, the loud beating of her heart betraying her calm, self-assured exterior. She was sure he could hear it. He’d always heard her heart’s cries, had always soothed her heart’s longings.
“Don’t you want to remember?”
He didn’t say a thing, and, unable to avert his gaze, he watched as she deftly unclasped her bra. With a gracefully swoop, it fell to the floor, next to her other clothes. He shifted uncomfortably, dreading what was to come and yet yearning for it. Who was he trying to fool? He’d been yearning for it for some time now; over the years they’d been apart, his feelings for her had only grown stronger.
She finally undid herself from her last piece of clothing and, not feeling embarrassed at all, she waited for him to lift the covers. Swallowing laboriously, he imprinted the image of her in his mind, in his soul. He never wanted to forget how she looked that night. Never. He wanted to remember it forever and ever, past death and in a following life. He wanted her to be a part of him till the end of time. His mind might perish, might forget the way she looked, but his soul surely wouldn’t. Souls were for eternity.
Moonlight coated her body in an otherworldly glow, paled her skin and highlighted the twinkles – it might have been tears – in her eyes. He blinked again, unable to believe she was really there, with him. He couldn’t quite grasp it, convinced he had to be dreaming. Yet he knew he wasn’t. No dream had ever felt as good, as right, as real as this. Nothing ever could.
Hesitantly, he lifted the covers and silently invited her into his bed.
<center>***
Chapter 2</center>
He tenderly brushed her hair from her forehead and softly kissed her nose, amazed by what had just happened. She gave him a small smile and momentarily closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. “Are you okay?” she heard him ask, his voice worried and guilty.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. She felt his eyes on her, and when she opened her own, she saw the doubt in his. “Honestly, I am.” He nodded slowly, and turned them over, pulling her on top of him. He would surely remember this night, no need to question that. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he had hurt her, that he’d caused her pain.
“I’m sorry,” he softly said, his face suddenly boyish, begging her for forgiveness.
She smiled again, and pulled him up for a kiss. “I’m not. Never will be, either.” His lips twitched up in a smile before they met hers, and a clumsy kiss ensued.
“I love you,” he whispered, though he really wanted to cry it out loud.
She slightly tilted her head and smiled sweetly. “And I love you.” It sounded so simple, so plain, so clear. ‘I love you.’ As if nothing else mattered. And nothing did; not at that moment.
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered quietly, lovingly looking up at her.
“What?”
She laughed hoarsely, her throat dry. “You think I don’t love you?”
He smiled and shook his head, his heart flooding with joy and love as he drank in the sight of her hovering above her, the feeling of her naked body flush against his.
“That you’re here,” he explained. “What just happened.”
Her face fell, her smile lingering for a mere second before wilting on her lips. “Me neither.”
He sighed sadly, and pressed her tighter against him. “I’m so glad you came,” he tried to cheer her up, diverse her thoughts. A short smile was the only acknowledgement of his words. His fingers started to trace lazy circles on her back, down along her spine, slowly reaching her buttocks. Their eyes never lost contact, and he could see the tears shimmering in hers, the hurt hidden beneath layers of salty water, love and determination.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words coming from the bottom of his heart, from the center of his soul, the deepest recesses in his being.
“You’re so beautiful,” she repeated, the smile growing back on her lips, challenging him.
“Parrot,” he said, remembering their younger, happier times.
She wiggled slightly and grinned broadly. “Parrot.”
His hands reached for the sensitive spots at her sides and softly pinched her. “Stop saying what I’m saying,” he playfully commanded her.
She bit on her lip and stuck out her tongue. “Stop saying what I’m saying,” she mocked him.
“You asked for it!” He exclaimed, and llaughed at her helpless pleas against his tickle assault. The feeling of her body moving against his was beyond pleasurable, and when she started kissing him to make him stop, he willingly conceded his defeat. For a second, they were just a happy couple, in love, kissing, making love. For a second, they were together, two souls reunited as one, unable to be torn apart.
For a second, life was sweet, love was delightful and the future was bright.
For a second…
<center>***</center>
She watched as he slept, a contented smile gracing his already handsome features. How could she ever do this, how could she ever leave him here? She caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, letting the short stubbles scratch over her fingers. He wanted her to elope with him. Where would they go, she had asked. He had told her he didn’t care. As long as they were together, it didn’t matter where they were. He knew he’d be in heaven.
And as tempting as his offer sounded, she couldn’t accept. She didn’t want to ruin his glorious future, his study at Harvard, his professional career. She couldn’t do that. He’d told her to come with him, to study there together, but they both knew they would be disillusioned to think she ever could. Not that she didn’t have the brains; she was just as smart as Max was, maybe even smarter, but her parents simply couldn’t afford Harvard. She wasn’t going to let Max throw away his chance in life just for her. It wouldn’t be fair.
As if the realization of what she was going to do suddenly started to dawn on her, a tear formed itself in the corner of her eye, gathering all the sadness it could find, all the sorrow it could muster, all the grief it could bear. It slipped beneath her eyelid and trickled down her cheek. Then it fell, hitting the soft, light blue pillow with an inaudible thud. He couldn’t have heard it, but stirred in his sleep nevertheless. She placed a small kiss on his forehead and let her lips linger there, feeling the need to remember how he tasted. At least he’d been her first, she melancholically thought, a delicate smile slipping on her lips.
She could hear the church bells in the distance, five times. She’d have to hurry now, Maria would be waiting for her. Saying goodbye was so hard, too hard. If he were awake, she’d never leave. She’d better go without a verbal goodbye. She gave him a last kiss, on his lips, and pulled his head to her chest. Tears were falling freely now, power to stop them failing her. A last touch, a last glance, and she was gone. Her last goodbye to him, she thought. His parents would be pleased to know she’d never see him again.
And so she left, not knowing it wouldn’t be her last goodbye after all…
<center>***</center>
Five weeks later, in a small dorm room in Las Cruces:
She was lying on her stomach, pretending to study, not really knowing who she was trying to fool. It wasn’t as if Serena still believed her ‘I gotta study’ excuses. Her gaze kept drifting to the picture on her nightstand. She had considered keeping it hidden when she first got here, just so no one would ask her about it, but had decided on keeping it on her nightstand anyway. It was the only thing she had left of him, or so she’d thought at the time. Now she knew there was more he’d given her. Much more than she had wished for.
“Liz, I’m leaving!”
“Bye! Have fun!” she yelled back at Serena, her roommate and only friend. She knew that Serena thought that she was weird for not going clubbing with her, for not dating any guys, but she just couldn’t do that. Not so soon after him. Not with her suspicions.
If only she hadn’t been so stupid, so lightheaded with desire for him… She should have remembered the foil package in her jack’s pocket, she should have thought of it. It had been planned so well. She would grab it after taking off her blouse, at least, that had been her intention. How could she have forgotten about it? The memory of buying the package at the grocery store with Mrs. Swanson behind the counter had burned itself in the tender flesh of her brains, scarring her for life. Scarring Mrs. Swanson, for the rest of her life, too, Liz guessed. She sighed and let her head drop to the pillow.
What should she do? Tell Serena? Tell her parents? Tell him? If she decided on keeping it, she had to tell someone. She couldn’t possibly raise a kid on her own. Her parents were poor and couldn’t pay for it. She didn’t want to burden them with any more problems than the ones they were already having. His parents weren’t poor. They were filthy rich, one of the reasons why they had tried to keep him away from her to begin with. They would disinherit him. There was no way they would support her, support him. She had to find a better paying job, or work longer, if possible twenty-four seven.
Letting her pencil slip through her fingers, she placed the book beside her on the floor and picked up the cordless phone. She didn’t notice the way her hands were shaking as she dialed the number written on a bright yellow memo not too long ago. It was time to make a decision…
<center>***</center>
“Miss Elizabeth Parker?”
After taking a deep breath, she stood up, straightened her clothes, took her handbag and walked up to the woman. A young girl, two or three years younger than Liz, breezed past her, tears running over her cheeks as she exited the clinic. Liz’s eyes followed the mother that ran after her daughter, calling out for her to stop.
“Miss? Could you please follow me?”
She nodded and turned her attention back to the woman walking in front of her. She looked a little bit like her own mother, she noticed, just slightly older with a few more gray hairs. Her name tag spelled ‘Kristel Irving,’ and her white coat reminded Liz of the ones she’d worn in High school, during the practical work in chemistry and biology class.
Did she really want to do this? Did she really want to lose the only thing he and she still shared together? She didn't know. All she knew that now was the time to choose, for time was running out...
<center>***</center>