CHAPTER #9
I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body,
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.
~Pablo Neruda, Love Sonnet XVII
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She could hear the yelling all the way from outside of her house-little Liz Parker was sure the neighbors could hear as well. These neighbors would tell their acquaintances, and they would tell their neighbor’s friends, and soon, everyone would know what she had witnessed that day-the nice Sheriff that had located to their county was always fighting with his wife, and today, it seemed, a little boy’s name was mentioned plenty.
She wished she could go and play with the other girls and boys that had made adventures out of being mindlessly bored during their summer-it was, after all, a boring place, and there wasn’t much to entertain them with. She had no friends, and at school she didn’t talk to anyone much. Maria would always tell her that Amy - this was her mother, and Liz thought it was really cool that Maria sometimes called her Amy - would take her on road trips, spinning the globe and pointing her finger. Wherever it landed, they went. Liz longed for Maria’s exciting life.
She stopped moving on the swings when she noticed a boy with bright blue-gray eyes and dirty, chestnut brown hair walking towards her.
“Hi,” he greeted uncertainly, waving hesitantly, standing there awkward. But as soon as he did, he gave her a brave smile that showed a boyish smile and his chipped front tooth. She grinned just as widely, and he wondered if there was a prettier girl then the one he was facing. He decided then and there he had to marry one just like her. “Hi!”
“How old are you?” he asked curiously.
She shrugged away the embarrassment. She had never talked to a boy alone before. Liz wrinkled her nose - she was not supposed to like boys, or so her only friend, Maria De Luca had told her firmly. She had heard Amy De Luca once express that men were the root of all evil, and women only ended up screwed. Liz wasn’t sure what screwed meant but it hadn’t sounded very good. But this boy reminded her of the angel painting that hung in her room, and inspired her confidence. “Eight.”
“Still a baby,” he answered, making a face.
This seemed to anger her, as she shoved him. He grinned at her, because, it was funny to see a very pretty girl that was twice as smaller then he was, with an very pretty dress and a red bow on her dark, chocolate hair shoving him and small hands on her hips. “How old are you?”
He straightened his stance, clearly pompous. “I’m nine,” he declared with pride.
“Oh,” she answered with dissapointment, sitting back down on the swing as he made his way behind her. A whole year older then her. A year was a lot in Liz’s opinion. “I am a baby.”
“Nah, you’re a bonnie.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What is a bonnie?” she asked properly, grabbing at her bow to tie it tighter around her hair. She blew a strand tickling her forehead with frustration and turned to him as she waited for his answer.
“Kid, I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he promised, swinging her higher as she squealed with glee.
She then stopped giggling, turning to him accusingly. “You just said I wasn’t a baby!” she whined at him.
He grinned again. “You’re not a baby, but you’re still a kid. I’ll tell you when you’re an adult - like me.”
She was going to ask him again - she was excited there was someone she could talk to, when a sound of broken glasses brought back their attention. Liz strained her ear, noticed that the boy cringed as he heard the loud, vicious voices.
“Do they always yell like that?” she asked with slight wonder.
“Sometimes a lot worse,” was Kyle’s heartbroken answer. “And Mom always threatens my dad with leaving.”
She nodded, even at his eight years, intuitive. He stopped swinging her and Liz, in turn, ran to stand in front of him. “I have a lot of games and movies at my house. My dad owns a restaurant so we can have all the food we want! Do you like fries and milkshakes?” she asked, determined to make him feel better.
His grin was wider. “I love it.”
She offered his hand. “So do you wanna come?”
He nodded eagerly, and then looked back at his house. There was still shouting, still pointing fingers with blame, never once asking where he was. Firmly she stood up, taking his hand.
Clearly, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
He later slapped his forehead. “I didn’t ask you your name!”
She giggled softly. “Elizabeth Claudia Parker,” she boasted proudly. “Everyone calls me Lizzie and my dad calls me Princess. You can call me Liz,” she finished with determination.
He shook his head, moving his hand to ruffle her long hair, strands loosening at the end of the bright red ribbon. “Nope. I’m gonna call you Bonnie.”
She sighed with frustration. She didn’t even know if it was a good or a bad thing. “But I don’t know what it means,” she reminded him in reproach.
“It’s nothing bad there, Bonnie.”
She glared at him. Were all boys this frustrating and intent on teasing? Realizing if she made him upset she wouldn’t get him to go to her house to eat cheese fries and play games, she once again re-tied her bow and turned her wondrous amber brown eyes to his. “What’s your name?”
“Kyle James Valenti,” he answered proudly, his chest once again upright with pride as they made their way to his house. “You can call me Kyle.”
“I like the name Kyle. Hi Kyle,” Liz answered, giggling.
He grinned. “Hi, Bonnie.”
~*~*~*~
Ten-year old Kyle snickered, moving from one branch to the other as he climbed to the highest part of the tree. “Alex has a crush on Isabel,” he said in sing song, making sure to evade Maria’s small fist. It was a common truth that Maria hated Isabel Evans. If anyone asked Kyle, the reason was due to Maria’s latest tragic hair cut. Isabel Evans had the prettiest hair in their school, long, and wavy, shiny and golden.
“Isabel’s nothing special,” Maria grumbled, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at Kyle, ignoring the reddened cheeks that Alex was sporting.
“Of course she’s special! She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Alex declared. “And one day, I’m gonna kiss her.”
Maria looked at him in disbelief - kissing? - and Kyle snickered again, stopping abruptly when Liz gave him a reproachful look.
“She’s not special! She’s mean. She made Lewis Moon cry today,” Maria reminded them.
“Who doesn’t make Lewis Moon cry?” Kyle asked in retort.
“There is something special in everyone,” Liz, the pacifist, assured Alex as she saw him glare at Maria’s comment.
Alex’s scowl deepened. “By saying everyone’s special, Lizzie, it means nobody’s really special. And Isabel is.”
Liz couldn’t help smiling at the memory, her hands tracing the carved lines of the oak tree that she was currently standing in front of.
L.P. + K.V.
Was it really so long ago?
Was it really that long ago she and Kyle had met, she and Alex had met?
All of those moments... once upon a time, long before the Pod Squad had entered their lives, it had been the four of them. Kyle, Liz, Alex, and Maria. Kyle had been Liz’s first kiss. Weirdly enough, Alex had been Maria’s. They had seen the ugly and the bad in each other.
She had been amazed by how Alex had the uncanny ability always - always - seemed to have the right words. A small slither of comfort, the smallest, even, seemed big because it came from Alex. He would aways envelop you in his tall, lanky frame and there was no bigger comfort, no safer haven.
Now... now she and Maria hadn’t spoken for the longest of times, Alex was presumed
dead and every fragment of their friendship that had made it special was now just broken.
An impatient statement broke her train of thoughts. “Is he coming or what?”
“Since I called so late he’s probably getting dressed, ” Liz answered coolly, already used to Alex’s new attitude. She would remember to chalk up disdainful impatience to the growing list.
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I just want to get this over with. People are going to look at me, I’m going to have to prove myself, and facing everything I left behind - it’s hard.”
Liz’s eyes softened. “I understand, Alex. Just wait till Kyle gets here, okay? He’ll try talking to Tess and you... you have to go to Isabel.”
“It’s not going to be a fairy tall reunion, Liz. I’m not the same,” Alex declared.
Liz didn’t answer, and Alex concentrated on shuffling the dirt with the heel of his shoe. Uncomfortably, almost inaudibly he asked. “How has she been?”
Liz sighed. “A wreck. When we thought you were dead… I had never seen Isabel like that. She was dead without you, Alex.”
“I know the feeling,” was all he said, feeling a pang in his heart, familiar feelings that he needed to push away.
“Are you still in love with her?” Liz inquired.
Alex didn’t answer at first, just stared at the night sky, that was so different from Antar’s.
“Alex, are you still? Or is Tess...”
“No,” Alex said firmly. “It’s Isabel. It’s always been
her. It’ll always be
her. No one else. Ever.”
“Then why don’t you go after her and solve things?”
“I wish I could,” Alex muttered. “Listen to me, I love her too much to have her deal with me the way I am now. What I became, how I operated, what I
did... I just... can’t tell her...”
Liz nodded dully. Hearing the approaching footsteps, she sighed with relief and walked towards Kyle, who was staring at Alex dumbfounded. “I didn’t believe it at first, I couldn’t but...” Kyle whistled. “Damn, Alex, you’re alive!”
“Congratulations on stating the obvious,” Alex said while clapping Kyle affectionately on the back. He sighed - Alex seemed to do that a lot now - and turned to his friend. “I don’t want to always repeat what I’ve told Liz. I’m guessing she put you up to speed?”
Kyle nodded his head, his eyes betraying his confident stance. “Tess is really... Tess is here?”
“Kyle, you need to be prepared,” Liz began, noticing the tension as he tightened his hand around her. “She’s not responsive. I just want you to know.”
“Okay. Don’t worry about me. Just... take me to her, okay?” he asked softly, dreading and anticipating all at once. Was it possible to feel so much?
“I’m gonna head over to the Evanses,” Alex answered, wordlessly turning around and walking in the dark night, hands in his pockets. Even the way he walked, with trained confidence and defensive, no longer seemed like Alex.
“What happened to him?” Kyle asked.
There wasn’t wind, and there was warmness sorrounding the park she and Alex had ended up in.
Liz hadn’t ever felt colder.
~*~*~*~*~
The soft, feathery pitter-patter of the thick raindrops that splattered on the window forced Isabel to open her left eye in frustration. Her hand, that was grabbing at the pillow in desperate hopes she would once again find the sleep she had been so deprived of, grabbed at her tousled, gold-curled hair. Turning over, she squinted her eyes as they both lazily drooped open.
She groaned as she saw the sky was still dressed in the dark dawn with navy blue tints, and the frustration seemed to seep further as she knew she would not go back to sleep.
The one night that Zan forgets to wail loudly to the wee hours of the morning, she can’t sleep.
Isabel didn’t even know why. She knew she felt a shift, something move within her. Intuition, alien ability, whatever it was, something was happening.
Not like she could go to sleep anyway. Hard as she tried, for the past long, agonizing months slumber could not find her, and before Isabel knew it, she was always lying on her back, both hands on her stomach, staring listlessly at the ceiling and discussing patterns with herself. She knew very well when her insomnia began to interfere with her life, she would just rather not bring it to anyone’s attention.
Everyone was already so worried for her as it was. Her mother continued cooking her favorite meals, frightened by Isabel’s lack of appetite. Max would, in his forever-agonizingly big brother act, continuously try to engage in conversation with her, try to force out of her feelings she had long ago dulled inside of her. She had made sure they were calloused and deep within, so she wouldn’t have to feel them anymore. She was so tired of feeling. So tired of her life, the vague emptiness it brought her.
Tired of her introspective ramblings (she wasn’t
Max for goodness sake), she slung both legs over the edge of the bed, standing languidly. She ignored her cell phone that was blinking madly - she was already certain who was the recipient of what she was sure were over two messages. Doug Shellow really had a hard time figuring what a just-friends-nothing-else-
ever kind of friendship entailed.
She moved forward, towards her desk, where she had proceeded to create a collage with Michael and Liz’s help. For as serious and level-headed as they could appear, she loved their artistic passion and talent. Pictures Liz had taken, sketches that Michael had drawn of all of them.
Isabel smiled faintly as her hands traced the familiar lines of Maria’s face smiling next to Michael, who was not smiling, but not discontent. Her index finger moved to the next picture, and her smile turned into a frown. It was of Liz and Alec. She didn’t understand how so much love could exist and have them still not be together. It seemed unnatural, which made her smile in a weird kind of way. The minute she had heard of Liz moving on from Isabel’s brother, she had found it hard to accept. But seeing her with Alec erased every doubt and resentment. The two were forces of nature that fit in almost every possible way.
Max and Zan, Isabel thought adoringly, a picture of Max sitting on the rocking chair, cradling Zan to his chest as the small boy slept peacefully. Kyle and Liz sitting on a swing. Isabel and Michael. Maria, Liz, and Alex. Max, Michael, and Isabel. Every picture was personal to her, but none so much as the last.
The last picture was always her favorite - Isabel remembered clearly when Liz took it. Isabel was sitting in the grass. Alex was sitting behind her, his long legs on either side of her, grabbing her waist, his face in the crane of her neck, the two smiling to the camera as if they had been with each other comfortably for years. Tears blurred her vision quickly. Now that she was alone, she let herself cry again.
Was it really all so long ago?
A loud thump made her gasp in surprise. She turned around, noticing the dark figure moving to stand up. She raised her hand, ready to blast whoever it was before it could harm her, when she stopped mid-way.
It... it couldn’t be.
“Isabel.”
Shaky hands moved to cover her mouth. She didn’t know exactly what she was doing.
Isabel was aware of the tears and the blinding sense of disbelief coursing her blood, running around through her entire body and leaving her shaking with fear it was not real. There wasn’t much in her mind because she couldn’t even breathe. Feelings, emotions, burst through her, entrapping her, as she succumbed to everything painful and everything loving inside of her. An overpowering sob tore through her.
To her, seeing Alex stand in front of her... it was
everything. He had haunted her, was all she wanted, all that had broken and put her together. She had belonged to pain for so long, had told herself time and again that Alex was dead...
“Oh...” was all she could say, running towards him and crushing her body to his. He was solid, he wasn’t a dream she had cooked up out of despair and heartache. He was
there.
But she felt his hot breath prickling in her forehead, she could almost feel the heat that he radiated burn itself into her skin, reminding her of all the nights she had dreamt him, only to wake up with the excruciating reality that it hadn’t been true.
“Can I do something I’ve been wanting to do since I got here?” Alex asked.
Isabel nodded with a smile because she knew what was coming. Her lips waited into anticipation until Alex’s lips finally came crashing down on hers. It was now inconceivable how she had lived without this for what felt years. She felt Alex’s hands trailing on her back and she immediately locked her hand on his black hair. Oh, it was so familiar, so wonderful. She now fully understood the ’coming home’ sentiment.
Isabel stared at him, and even through the shadows he could see her eyes that he had missed so much shining with salty tears. “Where were you?” she asked.
“I didn’t let myself think about it, even feel it,” Alex spoke suddenly. “I was torn away from everything and everyone I loved. I was stripped of everything, Isabel. The only thing that kept me remotely alive was the thought of you. The thought that I might see you again. I am not the same guy that you remember. Not even close, and I have so much to... to sort out and get through but... but I have never doubted what I feel, I have never once not loved you. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”
She would give him time to explain everything. For now, she would revel that he was there with her. “*I don’t know by what cruel plan of fate where we destined to spend a year without each other. But I love you, Alex. And I’m so sorry I never got to tell you that sooner.”
Alex swallowed hard. All the time he’d spent in Antar, being taught to fight against Isabel and all she represented. But with her standing in front of him, beautiful and resilient, he could not do this. He could not act as detached as he had with Liz and Kyle. With her he could not mask his water tears pricking at his eyes.
A single tear slipped out of his face as he hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go.
Now she would simply freeze the moment.
She had read something, somewhere, in some place, about a girl who kept her most beautiful memories locked in a jar, so she could visit them any time that she wanted. So she can look at it, keep it close to her, and always remember how it
felt. There are so many simplistic moments in our lives, things or words that at time seem insignificant, and we let them slip through our fingers, and inevitably our minds.
That moment did not appear insignificant by any means, it was thunderous and great as lightning.
And she would always, always keep it.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Kyle was grateful Liz had offered to wait outside. He just wasn’t sure if he would be able to to explain to his father how Tess was living with them again. Not Ava, pretending to be Tess.
Tess.
Was it wrong of him, that he felt a small slither of ecstatic eagerness? To see her familiar gold curls and pale blue eyes, as vacant as they were? She was there, were she belonged.
“This was your room,” he offered in lame attempt to make conversation. She seemed content to stare at him and then dart her eyes to wherever he was taking her. She hadn’t said a word since Liz took him to her, which disheartened him. Though he had been warned, he had never expected such erratic, muted behavior from her. She had always been vibrant, and loud, and he had always loved to hear her laugh. He always associated laughter with the emotion he got. Everytime he heard Isabel laugh, it always felt like he had watched his favorite team play and they won. When Liz laughed, he always felt his heart fill with tender adoration and his stomach tickle with nervousness. With Tess, it was always a soothing, comforting feeling, and it was as bright as a sunflower.
There was anger accompanying whatever small sense of happiness, though. She had, in no uncertain terms, grabbed his heart from his chest, ripped it to sheds and unceremoniously dumped it into a blender.
Graphic, Valenti, he thought to himself sarcastically. He hadn’t been able to enter her room for the longest of times, and was soothed by the fact it was still as he remembered it. Her knittings were scattered all over, the jersey of his she always wore to sleep was lying atop the bed, and the pictures...
He gulped, averting his gaze from her.
He tried remembering all of the moments, memories, glimmers of conversations and laughters.
“Tess, do you remember me?” he asked helplessly. “Your Buddha Boy, remember?”
She didn’t answer him, and instead moved to grab the jersey, clutching it to her chest.
A sound of frustration came from him, crossing his arms and hopelessly gazing at her as she looked and touched at everything. He wondered if it was even familiar to her.
Tess turned to stare at him quizzically. “I remmeber something about you. Not exactly a memory, but how I felt every time you laughed.”
Kyle gulped. “How?”
“I don’t really know what emotion it is. I can’t feel anything now, just remember how I used to, ” Tess said helplessly, and she wasn’t looking at Kyle anymore, but outside the window, as if it held all of the secrets in her world and his. “My toes would always feel like someone was tickling them, and it made it harder for me to walk. Does that make sense?”
He smiled at her innocent way of explaining, finally understanding what Alex meant by her emotional confusion. “Sort of.”
“My tongue always felt like it was entangled into my teeth,” Tess continued, the closest to smiling he had seen from her that night, “and I couldn’t always talk so confidently. I always felt safe and beautiful, and I never felt lonely. That’s... that’s what I remember.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
She was so close to reaching him. His color compelled her to it, and she would reach him this way, through her dream state and his. She would follow the blend they had discovered together, emeralds, rubies, silver diamods and cobalt sapphires, golden yellow, bright oranges, ochres and velvet purples. She would one day paint this.
She finally saw him, standing in front of her, blurry through the thick fog of her sleep. But he was there.
Liz’s heart almost broke at the way he was staring back at her. His eyes watered, as he reached for her hand. He sighed with relief when she let him intertwine his fingers with hers. “You’re the only one who’s ever believed in me,” he whispered, staring straight at their hands, his big one eclipsing her fragile, small one.
“We believe in each other,” Liz reminded him. “You stood by me just as much.” She gulped, trying to blink back tears but it wasn’t possible, the dam broke loose. “I wish…” she choked out, “I wish things could be normal. I wish we could just be two people in love. I wish that so much, Alec.”
“I wish that, too,” Alec lamented.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered fiercely, wiping the tears away angrily. “We never asked to have to continually forsake our lives and our happiness for others. Alec, I just… I just want you to be with me.”
“No one said it was fair,” Alec whispered back, just as brokenly. “We didn’t ask for it - but it’s what we got. Please don’t put yourself in danger. Please just… just let me go, Liz. They want me. They’ll-they’ll leave you alone. Please.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Liz…”
“No,” she cried quietly, before bringing his mouth down to hers.
“Liz,” he urged gently, stepping away from her and leaving her cold.
Tears fell through her lashes, though she tried to hide them, begging Alec to either ignore or forget them.
“We both knew that it couldn’t last,” he said softly, the pained expression in his eyes would not leave him.
“I know,” was Liz’s reply, even softer then his, surprising him as he tried not to flinch at her obvious resignation. He wanted this.
“If you know that it would lead us to nothing but pain, why don’t you let us go?”
“I tell myself that I should, that it couldn’t... can’t happen. But it’s like I’m two different people, Alec. With Maria and everyone else I’m just... I’m the sweet girl. The one who tries hard at her studying and is neurotically imbalanced and reads geeky books and she’s... she’s concealed. And with you I’m just different. And I’m not pretending to be either, I’m just both. And I don’t want to feel this for you anymore. Maybe you’ve been right all along.”
She finally stepped away from him as well, too hurt to keep pressuring. How long had she tried to reach him, only to be left in the dust?
He said something. And she had barely heard it but it was there, hanging in the air between them. “Liz, I love you enough to let you go.”
She stood between the colors, hair overlapping in her face as a tear found its way down her cheek. “I love you enough to allow it.”
Before she knew it, he was pushing her out.
Liz opened her eyes, More tears find their way scaldingly past her cheek, resting in the corner of her lips.
They taste like pain.
She had to keep fighting! her heart argued with her desperately.
Her mind knew better.
Tears clashed with her cheek, salt turning sour, fire turning bitter.
Her eyes finally focused, as she realized Kyle’s warm, brown eyes were closely gazing into hers. “You fell asleep,” he said softly, standing as she sat up, groggily.
“Tess?” Liz inquired just as softly.
“She’s out of it. Has been for half an hour.”
Liz nodded.
Kyle bit his lip awkwardly, damning himself for acting so weird. He was never awkward around Liz. It shouldn’t be weird. Only it was. Because whether they wanted to admit it or not they had danced around
something since graduation, despite her loving Alec or him still holding on to Tess.
He had never in his wildest dreams thought Tess would
return, much less return in such a state. She needed him.
Liz finally stood, facing him. He was scratching his forehead uncomfortably. She didn’t answer him for a moment, only held her hand in her chest, the dream so vivid, so rooted inside of her.
“Let me take you home, Liz,” Kyle offered quietly.
“Can we walk?” she asked abruptly, snapping out of her daze.
He almost smiled. Not quite. “Yeah. We can walk.”
She almost smiled back. But not quite. “Okay.”
They made it to her balcony, and the walk was quiet, but pleasant, and wordless, but not lonely.
Liz opened her mouth, closed it, then shook her head. “Kyle...” she let out a shaky sigh, “she looks okay. Considering.”
It was feeble, her comforting comment, and they both know it, because it doesn’t begin to encase what he must be feeling, what she is feeling.
Kyle cleared his throat, oblivious to the water falling to his jacket, troubled as her remembered Tess and her painfully empty blue eyes. “Yeah.”
Liz closed her eyes and stopped walking the minute she felt the gentle raindrops hug her face. She let everything else leave her mind, let the breeze and rain drive away her worries.
Kyle finally caught up with her after a few short strides, putting his hands in his pockets and raising his eyes to the sky as well, the both standing serenely.
She finally gave a heavy smile, turning to him. “Dance with me.”
He gave a low chuckle. “In the rain? Are you turning into a cornball again? I might have to inform Ava.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, but he nonetheless grabbed her arms and pulled her to him.
She rested her head in his shoulder, strong and safe and filled with warmth, and was Kyle anything if not all of the above?
“Kyle?”
“Hmm?” he murmured, lost in the moment.
“I’m really, really tired of being left behind.”
If he ever second-guessed himself, he would have never pressed his mouth so thoughtlessly to hers. That way, he’d have never remembered how soft and perfect her lips fit against his. Her gasp of shock melted into a surprised sigh, his hands moving to her waist, molding her body to his, pressing himself to her as he slowly darted his tongue to trace the outline of her bottom lip.
Liz moved them to the window, closing it swiftly once they had jumped inside, her lips coming to life as they moved against his and her hands moving to his neck, keeping up with his pace. She lost herself in the moment, let go of everything except the feeling that she
needed it, needed him.
Kyle almost sighed with content when they finally made skin contact, having both lost their shirts. He traced patterns along her smooth waist, his hand reaching hesitantly to touch her stomach, fingertips grazing below her rib, eyebrows meeting softly in a frown as they stayed there.
“Where you were shot,” he whispered softly, his lips tenderly brushing the spot. There was no scar, but there would always be the wound. He didn’t need to see it.
He was firm, their eyes meeting once again.
Her legs gave out on her as she fell clumsily to the bed, bringing him along with her. His hands fell to her now-bare hips as his mouth once again found hers.
Bodies that burned at the touch of a hand, a gasp from her mouth. Ragged breath that didn’t seem as important as the exploration of each other’s skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, as a moan, husky and uncharacteristic, whispered out of her mouth and tickled his ear sensously. She clutched to him as if life depended on it, thrusting involuntarily.
She pulled him closer, needing his warmth, shivering as his breath tickled her ear, losing whatever small control she had left of her. Her senses were on overload, sounds were louder and feelings were stronger, and she didn’t know exactly what she needed, only that she needed
more.
They pulled away, damning their need for breath.
“Do you love Tess?” she asked, panting.
“You’re asking me this
now?”
“Do you love Tess?” she repeated.
God help me. “I think so.”
Liz bit her lip, choking a moan, hands clutching desperately at her pillow. She whimpered in frustration when his bare hips rubbed hers, moving along with him, strangled breath burning.
“Do you love Alec?” he asked in turn, groaning when her lips took tender assault of his neck.
Hopelessly. Irreversibly. Forever. “Yes.”
He winced, even if he tried his hardest not to. Their honesty was what made Liz and Kyle,
Liz and Kyle. It always came from a place inside of them that could never be anything short of wonderful.
“But I love you, too,” he whispered miserably, lips frantically possessing hers, claiming her mouth so desperately he almost took her very soul. “It’s a different kind of love, but it’s love all the same.”
She writhed underneath him. “Kyle,” she pleaded.
He eased into her, and for a moment she stopped all movement, mouth opening in wonder as she felt him inside of her. Her head fell back in stunned fascination.
Teeth clashing with shameless need, lips bruising with agitated longing as he finally began to move. It wasn’t a hurried rythm, he took his time to find their pace. Nothing else seemed to come to her mind because she couldn’t think, she could only feel in that moment and she liked it. And Kyle was so, so gentle with her. There was no pain, only this need for more, more, more. Stronger, faster, harder. Stars seemed to fall through a crystal haze in her mind, as he fiercely demanded all of her, and she gave it to him.
Eyes locked, refusing to lose each other’s gaze as they connected, skin overlapping skin, her cry losing itself in him. Smoldering, hungry hazel dancing with his sultry sapphire. Labored breathing mingled with flesh as waves crashed into her.
Liz let her breath even, let her heart return to its normal pace, her face resting in the crook of his neck as his hands curled into her wet hair.
Still inside of her, Kyle put both hands on either side, staring at her longingly, as if he knew he couldn’t have her the way he had wanted.
Liz passed a hand through a lock of his hair that fell across his damp forehead, before pulling him back to her.
“We’ll be best friends no matter what... right?”
“Always,” he vowed fiercely, closing his eyes drowsily.
They didn’t need to speak it, verbalize it, throw it to the wind. No, what they had was far too special, far too deeply intwined to anyone to ever understand.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*This line was inspired from the movie
The Count of Montecristo.
I’m so glad there are some sticking to the story, and here I am, with a much sooner update as promised! Now, after you read this... I don’t know how you’ll take it. I just hope you don’t hate Liz or Kyle - they’re both hurting and need some lovin. And yeah, I have a small soft spot for them. They’re both (along with Tess, Alec, and Isabel) my favorite characters in this story. Actually, they all are - Maxie, Ava, Michael, even Max, to a certain point. I know that after reading this, you will think this is a Loyalist story. Honestly, it has always had its undertones and slight banter. But this story is an X-Tremer story to the end, I still love them dearly but honestly, this chapter flowed out of me and I couldn’t write it any other way. I can’t apologize to those who don’t like what happened - it felt real to me.
So, it’s a long chapter and I hope it makes up for all the time I was absent or however long it might take me to get the other chapter coming. I finally have a stronger sense of where I want to take this, though. So I promise I’m going to try to make it as soon as possible.
I thank everyone who replied, and those who wish me well. I hope things work out soon too, but I might as well throw myself to writing a little.
I hope you liked it. I really, really do. Because it’s one of the most honest, truthful thing I have written in a
long time.
Thank you.
