|posted on 4-Feb-2002 1:36:25 AM|
|TITLE: His Jealous Sky (1/1)|
AUTHOR: Rebecca Parker
PAIRING: Liz/Kyle, mention of Liz/Max
IMPROV#8: lilac -- amuse -- savor -– sky
FEEDBACK: Yes please! I do the dance of joy upon receipt of feedback.
DISCLAIMER: Jason Katims owns all.
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask.
DEDICATION: To Bri, my Roswell goddess!
NOTE: Title is a lyric from Sting's "Fields of Gold"
There's a swing on our porch that we find ourselves lounging in most nights. I sit across it, my head on one side, my feet on the other, and she lays draped across me.
The air in Roswell at night has been nice lately- not too cold, or too humid or dry. It's right in the middle, and it makes spending a few hours outside a viable alternative.
She talks about work, and Maria, and I talk about sports, and Dad. It doesn't matter what winds up being discussed; the point is to be together. The point is feeling safe in each other's arms; feeling close and protected.
It's been years since the danger came close enough to touch us, and I doubt either of us really miss it very much.
I know I embrace the boredom of long nights spent rocking on this porch, and, by the way she smiles when she looks up at me, I think she does too.
But I can't help but notice when her eyes drift longingly to the sky, and I know that, as much as she appreciates the boredom of being with me, she'd consider trading it all in to be with him again, danger or not.
He left almost eight years ago, amidst drama and tears, crying and pleading. Liz wasn't the same for nearly a year, and I think she found it hardest to be stuck in the past when everyone around her was moving forward.
When she found her way back to me, I was dubious at first. It had been two years since they had all made their way back home and left us to ours, and the two of us had been estranged for nearly as long.
It had taken months for me to break down the walls she had built around herself, years to get her to open her heart to someone but him. And when we got married last year, I tried not to notice that look in her eyes that told me she was giving up and giving in.
So I just sit with her warm body pressed against mine, and savor the time with her. I try not to think that I won what was left of her heart merely because I was left behind.
She leans in close and snuggles against my neck, and I can smell the faintest scent of lilac on her skin. It's so familiar- she's so familiar, and I lay a soft kiss on the spot as if to claim her.
I feel like I could lose her, and so I hold her close. I watch as she eyes the sky, and I gaze at it just as nervously. Her precious King could make one decision to come back, and I know everything I have could be put in jeopardy just as easily.
Until then, I'll amuse myself with the lies I tell myself; that she loves me more than she ever loved him, that she truly wants to be here, and that I stand a chance in her heart whenever that day comes.
I'll pretend that she watches the sky to savor it's beauty, to appreciate the rarity of every shooting star, and not to hope that one of them is him coming back for her.