|posted on 27-Mar-2002 4:52:06 AM by CanadianRoswellian|
|Title: Insignificance (prologue + first four parts)|
Author: Liz (aka CanadianRoswellian)
Rating: R (violence, sexual content, it's all possible)
Summery: Read the first few parts or you will be lost. Liz's parents die in a tragic accident and she must go live with her Aunt.
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
Amy pulled back, holding Liz at arm’s length. "Oh my, you’re so big!" She cried, gazing over at her daughter, a bright grin permanently fixed on her face. She turned to a waiting Maria, and repeated herself. "She’s so big."
Maria nodded, humoring her mother. "That she is, mom."
Amy smiled , satisfied, and led Liz over to a padded, turquoise colored booth by the window. From the view you could see Michael struggling with her luggage out by the Jetta. Also, across the street was a weird brick building that prominently read ‘The UFO Center’. "Here—its the best booth in the house." She turned to her daughter who had trailed along behind Liz, "Why don’t you invite your friends over there to come meet your cousin sweetie? I’m sure she’d like that." Maria nodded, excusing herself to go converse with her friends.
Liz sat down in the waiting booth, her eyes flicking momentarily at Michael’s strained expression. He noticed and shot her a grin. Or, what might be considered a grin in his mind. It was more of a half smirk, half frown. All the same, he was trying—and Maria probably appreciated that. Amy waved at Michael, smiling brightly. Bright, thats what kind of a woman she was. Bright to every last detail, which sort of explained the decor of the restaurant, actually. Amy took a seat across from Liz. Liz had her hands out on the table, wringing them nervously. "Oh honey," her aunt said softly, placing her hands on top of Liz’s. "I am so sorry. And I want you to feel at home here. Roswell is small, but its a nice place. I think you’ll like it here.
Liz nodded, speechless. What was one to say to a perfectly sweet woman when you had already made up your mind to secretly loathe this places existence? You couldn’t exactly be like ‘thanks for trying, but every time I look at you I think about how much better my life was back in England’. Maybe that was hypocritical. She hadn’t even experienced anything here. And supposing she was being hypocritical…What if she actually grew to like it here? Liz felt rude, and awkward. Her Aunt Amy was so nice to her, and here Liz was, her mouth clamed shut. "Thank you," she whispered shyly.
Amy grinned again, and patted Liz’s hand warmly. "I have to go help that woman over there, but if you need anything, you let me know, mmkay?" Liz nodded, returning the grin. It was the least she could do. Amy literally bounded up out of the booth, and made her way over to the counter to help a customer, every so often sending warm beams her way.
Liz bit her lip, out of habit, and began playing with a strand of hair. Maria was still over at the counter, animatly talking with the two, the boy and girl, she had waved to when she walked in. So she diverted her attention the window. Outside portrayed the perfect little town. There was moderate traffic, with green trees and no litter blemishing the city’s sidewalks. It was perfect. Almost too freaking perfect for Liz to stand. It seemed she was moving on from her grief, now she was just getting extremely analytical and angry. Of course, she found this an improvement, but to most it might be a drawback.
"Lizzie," Maria’s voice called. Liz tore her eyes away from the view, to look to her left. Maria stood in the middle of the boy and girl. They were all beaming. My god, they’re like pod people, Liz thought silently. The only normal one is Michael, who even attempts to join the cult. Her eyes flicked from the sultry looking female, to the jockish male. "This is Isabel Evans and Kyle Valenti," Maria gushed.
The blonde offered her perfectly manicured hand delicately, and Liz shook it. A firm, straight-toothed grin appeared across the girl’s face. "Nice to meet you, Liz."
Then she took the boys hand. It was warm and strong. His eyes sparkled with interest. "Hey," he grinned. "If you ever need a tour guide—" Maria slapped him across the shoulder.
"She’ll ask me." She laughed. "What’s with you and hitting on anything that moves." Then she frowned, shooting a gaze at Liz. "No offense." Liz dismissed it with a shake of her head.
"Please—I just like the ladies’" He cried.
Isabel smiled. "Kyle, I ought to never talk to you again for what you just said." She shot a look at Liz and rolled her eyes. "We were just leaving. Welcome to Roswell—if you want to join anything at all, I’m the girl to ask."
"Thats because you’re neorotic," Kyle said sweetly.
"Come along," she called, starting towards the door with Kyle in tow. "Bye Liz!"
Liz said her goodbyes then turned to Maria curiously. What now? Maria looped her arm through Liz’s. "Alright, so those were some of the gang. You’ll like them. And why don’t we go show you the aparment!" She suggested, as Michael entered the restaurant.
The apartment was of decent size, considering that it was above the restaurant. The smell of french fries and hamburgers wafted through the floor, leaving a permanent greasy scent in the air. Liz crinkled her nose slightly in distaste, but then straightened up when she realized that she was being rude.
The living room had a soft beige carpet, the kind that you could dig your toes into. In the middle of the room there was a futon, decorated in a flower pattern. A sheet was thrown carelessly over top. The apartment was what one person would call…Unique. It was like an artists’ apartment.
The walls were splattered with brilliant splotches of color. Where one wall was a blazing yellow, the other was a vibrant purple. Yet it seemed to compliment the other. On the walls hung framed, black and white photographs. Most were of Maria, but others depicted scenes from all different landscapes and objects.
Everywhere you looked there was something to strike your interest. Like the mosaic coffee table, made completely of broken dishes. Or the black and white tiled kitchen. It was like stepping into a whole new world. One which was free of the quandaries of the outside. A place where you could be free to be yourself.
"I know its not as big as you’re used to honey," Her Aunt supplied. She had followed them up, moments later. Amy’s lips were tight, and turned down at the edges, as she placed comforting hands on Liz’s shoulders. Unlike Liz, her surveillance of the apartment was more critical, pessimistic. "It’s kind of a mess right now," she chuckled to herself, ruffling the hair at the back of her head in a careless manner as she stepped past Liz, entering deeper into her abode. "Maria and I cleaned up a bit, but I spend so much time downstairs, and my work…Sometimes we just get kind of cluttered."
Liz shook her head, "No, no its perfect. Really."
Amy turned, and flashed her a knowing smile. "You’re sweet." She laughed again. "There wasn’t much time, so you’re going to be in Maria’s room for a while, and we’re going to clear out the guest bedroom soon, until then Maria’s on the couch."
"Oh, no, I couldn’t…" Liz started, nibbling at her bottom lip. She felt uneasy just coming in like this, invading their home, and then to take her cousin’s bedroom…
"You can and will," Maria’s voice sang from behind her. She stepped through the open door, and was followed a moment later by Michael who was stumbling under the weight of the luggage.
Amy put a comforting arm around Liz’s shoulder, staring around as if the place were brand new to her. "Welcome home."
The breeze blew lightly through the ajar window, jingling together the rainbow colored plastic curtains slightly. The room was dark and silent with the exception of light breathing from the sleeping form curled up in bed.
A dark masculine form approached the window slowly, easing the frame up a little further before heaving himself into the room, his white, scuffed up Adidas running shoes landing with a small thump against the wooden floorboards. He adjusted his form, then ran a hand through his raven hair, watching the sleeping girl. Her small frame heaved up and down delicately as she slept peacefully.
He’d missed seeing her, climbing into her window in the middle of the night for one of their talks, or just sitting in the Crashdown all afternoon on a hot day. All summer he’d worked as a camp counselor at a small private over-night camp in ---. He’d arrived back earlier that evening but, of course, his parents had insisted on having a family barbecue and catching up with each other. They were like that, always involved in their children’s lives. It wasn’t until now, after midnight, that he was able to slip out the window to Maria’s house.
When he’d arrived none of the lights were on, and he assumed that Ms. DeLuca was probably spending the night at the Sheriff’s house as she so often did. He crept over to the bed, and sat down beside her. Her head was buried underneath the covers, something she often did. Maria was one of those people who twisted and turned actively in her sleep.
He leaned over her, and gently pulled back the covers off her face. "Holy shit!" He cried in surprise as he saw Liz’s sleeping face. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise, and she opened her mouth in a scream. He quickly clamped her mouth. Her eyes were wide and wild, as she thrashed at his.
"Shh, its okay," he soothed his voice velvet soft. Pain shot through his hand and her teeth clamped down hard, and he pulled back in shock. She screamed again, jumping up to her feet, onto the bed, ready in fight stance.
"No, wait!" He cried, nursing his injured hand.
She pulled the first sharp object she could find off the nightstand parallel to the bed, a pen. "W-who are you?!" She cried, alarmed.
"Me?" He asked, his eyebrows raising. Who was he? He was surprised to find a stranger sleeping in Maria’s bedroom of all places, but to find a stranger who didn’t know of him was even more peculiar. You’d think someone spending any amount of time in the DeLuca household would know of the girl’s best friend, Max Evans. But apparently, he was assuming his fame proceeded himself.
"Yes," she replied exceedingly, her voice faltering.
He felt himself smiling at her accent. It was distinguished and soft. He enjoyed the sound of it, the soft lilt at the end. And it wasn’t just the accent he was smiling at. As his chocolate eyes warmed to the lighting he drew in the girl.
Her sheen, dark tresses were rumpled roughly from her sleep. Though it didn’t draw anything away from her beauty. In fact, the tousled locks suited her, making the girl seem delightfully sexy, yet innocent at the same time. Her doe eyes were large still with confusion, the dark lashes fanning out. And her pouty strawberry lips were slightly parted in expectation. The girl was a goddess, even in disarray.
His eyes fell then on her body, he found himself unconsciously staring at her petite form. She worn a skin-tight almost see through white tank, and a pair short pajama shorts. The olive expanse of her legs looked so soft to the touch, and he almost found himself overcome with the temptation to take the girl into his arms and ravish her. He decided this was not the best plan of attack. First, a name, then perhaps a friendly seduction.
He extended his hand then, towards the frightened girl atop the mattress, surrounded in crumpled blankets, threatening him meekly with a pen. "Max Evans," he announced, looking directly into her eyes. He felt his stomach flinch for a moment, his attraction almost overcoming.
Liz just stared at the mans hand. It was purely masculine, yet looked amazingly warm. These were not the hands of a hard laborer. These were the hands of a suburban male. She tentatively edged closer, his features excelled in the moonlight. She found that he was not a man, yet not a boy either. He wore a plain and simple navy blue t-shirt and blue jeans, the uniform of an American youth.
This was not a predator, Liz concluded. Yet he was not a friend. Not to her, at least. But to Maria? Her cousin had never mentioned any boys crawling through her window in the middle of the night. Maybe she wasn’t as happy as she seemed with Michael, maybe this was another guy for her cousin to get her sexual urges fulfilled? Funny, Maria didn’t seem the kind to be unfaithful. And this boy didn’t appear to be Maria’s type.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive. He was more than handsome. His lips wore a charming lopsided grin, and there was an amused twinkle in those mesmerizing eyes. They drew you in like a magnet, soulful and kind. Yet there was a charm in there, a spark that could not be disguised. Her eyes followed the curve of his hard jawbone, to the slightly oversized ears. If it weren’t for them she wouldn’t have believed he was real. It wasn’t an imperfection, it in fact added to his appeal, causing her breath to catch.
He was so different from Michael. Michael was attractive as well, but in such a distinct way. Something different than the norm. The way he grinned in a lopsided fashion, or the way he ran his hands through his spiky hair when he started to feel irritated. And the way that he touched Maria, that brung out an even more attractive side of him. He was alternative while this boy, Max, he brought…an All-American, Abercrombie model-type feeling. Not that that was a bad thing, of course.
She surveyed the strong forearms he possessed, biceps revealed against the tee. He couldn’t hide a body as magnificent as that. There was no doubt in her mind that this boy was fit. She had to fight the urge to trail her hands down that broad chest, feeling the hardness of his body. Even the thought of such a sensual act caused her to shiver slightly. She prayed that he did not see this. Especially if this boy was there to see her cousin on a midnight booty call or something.
Something about this boy though, it made her betray her suspicions, and step even closed, her hand outstretching to take his. To introduce herself. As she ascended towards him, her foot caught on the sheet, toppling her frame onto him.
He grabbed her tightly against him, making sure she didn’t hurt herself. Liz flushed madly, her embarrassment apparent. But that wasn’t her only thought. Her brain grew dizzy with the faint musk of his masculinity. A cologne she recognized, but couldn’t quite place in her mind. And the way he felt, strong and hard, the way she knew he would. She wanted to melt right there in his arms, nestling her head into that broad chest.
Instead she pulled away quickly, not letting her features betray her true thoughts. He did not need to know that her mind was in the relm of bad things. "Sorry," she said lamely, chewing down on her lip. "I-I didn’t mean to…" She stammered.
He shook his head, shooting her another dazzling grin. "No worries," Max assured. "So what was your name?"
Liz grinned, she couldn’t help herself. "Liz. Parker. Maria’s cousin. Surely you knew I was coming?"
He shook his head, a frown crossing his features. "I’ve been away all summer. Maria is no good with communication. Especially when she’s all caught up with Michael."
Liz let out an unexpected sigh of relief, then covered her mouth in shock. Her face turned another few shades redder.
"What?" He asked, Max’s eyebrows raising devilishly.
"I thought…" She started, feeling tongue-tied. "Well, I mean…" She paused. "Well, I thought maybe you were here for…Um…"
Max’s grin broke even wider, a chuckle escaping him. "Oh my god, you thought..?" He cried, trying to control his laughter. "No! No, Maria’s my best friend," he exclaimed, amused.
Liz silently rejoiced.
**Sorry it took me so long! I will try to be less sporatic. I am just so busy as I have already stated on my other fic**