|posted on 11-Nov-2001 6:39:46 PM|
|Title: That Risky Emotion Called Love|
Disclaimer: Roswell is not mine otherwise it wouldn’t be a show that I now despise.
Feedback: Do a person needs air to breathe? Yes. Does a writer need feedback to keep writing? Most definitely!
Comments: This is my first official UC fic, so please be kind. As always, this fic is dedicated to the Spoiler Buds – you know who you are, so you guys need no introduction. My interest in Roswell may have waned, but the fun of chatting with you all definitely has not! Thanks SBs!
It was really something that I had thought that I had gotten over, our relationship essentially having ended that fateful day in the Crashdown Café, but now as I sit here, watching her watching him, it hits me like the proverbial bolt of lightening that everyone keeps talking about.
I am still in love with Liz Parker.
Almost immediately, a rush of emotion washes over me, one that could be classified as jealousy. That is, if I really had something to be jealous about.
Yes, I doubt their relationship, despite its illusion of strength and endurance. I look upon it as though it were something that is not what it seems. Because it isn’t what it seems. I know better. My silent observance though all of their troubles has paid off.
He uses her like a convenience, a toy that waits meekly to the side until he deems himself ready to play. He demands, and is granted, total devotion, regardless as to whether he deserves it or not. He accepts all as though it were his due, his right.
But she isn’t much better.
To her, he is like a habit, a drug that constantly permeates the air about her, easily finding its way into her lungs and into her soul. He consumes her, uncaring of the damage or pain that he is causing, only intent on his own selfish goal.
He wants her, wants to keep her with him forever.
So do I.
But I don’t want her because she knows my darkest secret, has stood by me through thick and thin and appears quite capable of continuing to do so. I don’t want her because her endless devotion is undemanding and hesitant to trespass upon issues that does not concern her.
No, I want her because her smile is one that has the capability to light up an entire room with its glow. Because the depth of her caring that reaches far, even those who don’t really deserve it.
I want her because I can see that she is wasting away for love of him…what she believes is love for him. Each day I watch as she grows paler, her strength weakened.
He is killing her.
I want to show her, I want to open her eyes to what life really holds for her, whether it is me, or whether it is him.
You know, I did not even know how much I loved her, even as I held her in my arms and kissed her lips. I had no idea. Not until it was too late. Not until her eyes had turned, and remained fixed on, this one drug.
I hate him.
The path of life never runs smoothly, its passage marred by countless bumps and gorges, its route blocked by endless crossroads and dead ends. We are faced with choices every day – sometimes they are large, life altering choices, sometimes they are small, insignificant decisions.
But if only each could be as easy as a yes or no, a right or wrong, with little regard to life’s grey areas or consequences. Or to the differences choices can produce.
I had believed that I had already made my toughest choice, the one that changed my life forever. I thought that the toughest had come and gone. I suppose I should have figured it out that it was inevitable that I would be proven wrong.
I had thought that my choice had been Max.
I had thought wrong.
I was only now just beginning to realise that I have not yet even made it.
Don’t you just hate it when that happens?
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 4-Dec-2001 7:21:46 PM ]
|posted on 12-Nov-2001 7:59:06 PM|
How long has it been now since I had realised that I loved her, truly loved her? Weeks? Months? I don’t know. All has passed in a blur, my mind intent on the one that held everything that I was in her slim hands – my happiness, my understanding, my love. Yet she still did not know it.
There are times when I watch her surrounded by friends and family that I see a look of such despondency on her face, as though she believes deep inside of her that she will never escape from this thing, this love for Evans that she herself had created. I can almost hear the thoughts flicker through her head – she is not as strong as she used to be, the fight for her love with Max has worn her down. She can’t see what I see, a core of inner strength that would rival the toughest of steel.
I know that it is there. I just have to let it out. I have to help her let it out.
And in doing so, set her free in the process.
The Crashdown Café had become their usual haunt, a place to gather when everyone needed somewhere to be, for information to be exchanged that could save the world, or could merely plan a night out. The six sat around the booth with comfortable familiarity, each at ease with their place at that table. They collectively strove for an air of normality when none could be found, the circumstances of their situation leaving that kind of luxury behind.
A lot had changed since that day in the Crashdown in September – the fateful day that Liz was shot. If things had changed for the better, Liz couldn’t say. Conflicting emotions warred inside of her, each beginning where the other had left off, leaving no room for anything else.
Her eyes swept the room, landing on the faces of those whom she calls her friends – the blond haired Maria who bounced confidently in her seat beside her boyfriend, her voice rising as her hands gestured wildly in front of her. Her boyfriend, Michael, who sat watching her with a bemused expression, as though half in wonderment, and the other half just wondering when she would shut up. A soft giggle came from Isabel, the glamorous blond whose Ice Queen edges had melted somewhat. Kyle, who sat watching helplessly, merely shrugged his shoulders and grinned when Liz met his eyes, the smile warm and easygoing, inspiring feelings of trust and confidence.
Finally, the dark haired alien King who stared off into the distance as though seeing something that was beyond her. The man who was still part boy. The boy who had broken her heart. The boy she was still in love with…that is, if the pained emotion that encased her heart could be called love.
She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know him anymore. Most times when they were together, his eyes, once focused primarily on her, remained unclear, his mind obviously fixed somewhere that wasn’t Roswell, New Mexico. The same somewhere that was his home planet, the planet that, amongst its population, boasted the location of his son.
Liz knew that he still loved her, it still peppered his voice whenever he spoke to her, remained in his eyes whenever he looked at her. Yet, even knowing this, she knew that retrieving his son was his main priority, his number one fixation. The son he had borne with Tess…
“So, we will meet here and go to the club together? It won’t take us long to get there, so does 8 o’clock sound good to everyone?”
Liz was jolted out of her thoughts by Maria’s words, and mentally shook her head to dislodge the thoughts of Max and Tess before they could take seed and work their depressants throughout her entire body. She smiled faintly towards her friend, enjoying Maria’s enthusiasm, even if she could not muster forth any herself. “8 o’clock,” Liz agreed softly, and listened as everyone echoed her response.
Even Max roused himself long enough to answer Maria in the affirmative, before retreating back into himself. Yet even as he stared off into the distance, his arm reached about Liz’s shoulders, pulling her tightly towards him. His fingers brushed against the bare skin of her arm and she shivered lightly.
Maria smiled, the crooked gesture relaying a certain smugness. “The benefit of having,” she lowered her voice slightly, almost whispering the next singular word, “aliens as friends.” She beamed up to Michael, her smile glowing as he put his arm around her tightly. “A quick flick of the wrist, a little glow and voila! You are 21 and it is completely legal to enter a club.”
“So now we know why she keeps me around,” Michael joked, causing everyone to laugh gently. Standing, everyone made ready to leave, their plans for the evening set. Only Liz and Kyle remained seated in the booth.
Bending over her, Max kissed her cheek lightly, his lips lingering briefly against her soft skin. Cupping her chin with his hand, he tilted her head upwards until she could meet his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said to her and swooped down for another kiss, this time on her lips.
When he was done, Liz nodded, her gaze following his motions as he stepped back from her. “Tonight,” she said and watched as the group turned as one towards the door, their ceaseless chatter carefree and spirited.
Yet Kyle lingered, remaining comfortably in his seat, his big hands drifting across the table as though performing a slow dance upon the smooth surface, his fingers outstretched. Finally, he ceased his movements, instead picking up a left over straw and fiddling with it.
“Kyle, are you okay?” Liz asked softly, aware that he had not spoken much during their impromptu meeting.
He glanced up, the liquid depths of his warm brown eyes encountering hers. “I was just about to ask you the same thing,” he commented, tossing aside the mangled straw and fixing his full attention on her. He watched carefully as she flushed slightly, the pale pallor of her skin blooming a becoming rose.
“I’m fine, Kyle. I’m just…tired,” Liz responded, yet was unable to meet his eyes.
“No,” Kyle disagreed with her gently, and with full honesty. “I think you are unhappy.” He reached across the table, clasping her hands tightly within his own. “And it doesn’t take much to realise why.”
Opening her mouth to dispute his words, she closed it again without having said a word. Something inside of her stirred. It was the same something that was rising in agreement with his words. Unhappiness - she had not even wanted to admit it to herself, this emotion she had been aware of for countless moments in the past, yet to hear it stated so simply felt so…right… Nodding slowly, Liz looked up and allowed a single tear to trickle from her eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered and knew it to be true.
|posted on 4-Dec-2001 7:20:31 PM|
|If any readers are wishing to continue to read this fic, please be aware that I will no longer be posting them on this site (a lack of time limiting the amount of sites I visit).|
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