Author: becky rttavi@aol.com
Rating: PG-13 language
Distribution: Ask first, always.
Pairing: M/M
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Roswell.
Feedback: send to rttavi@aol.com
Notes: Drop this somewhere in the middle of S1 & S2, probably. Maybe.

Improv #3    fire -- shimmer -- reckless -- inspire




Shining in the darkness, the moonlight catches her skin. Plays havoc with my mind. I wish she knew I was watching her. I wish she knew I cared. She's dancing; I can see the sand being kicked up around her and I'm suddenly longing for her. Why can't I tell her?

I should be with her now, not hiding in the dark like a fucking thief. That's what she called me though. A thief of hearts. I laughed at her and then later I realized that had probably hurt her. Sometimes I couldn't tell between the reality and fantasy. I guess it was a gift. Never knowing which plane she was on. Never letting her know the real side of myself until…Is it too late? I know the real side of her; she let me in when I pushed her away. She always tells me that I inspire her to help the helpless. I think she's smiling when she says it, but it's the truth. I am the helpless.

I shrug and sit back on the coolness of night sand. Fire blazing from a pit and I watch her features distort behind flames of orange and blue. Dancing. Smiling. I wonder if she'll ever give me the chance to smile and dance with her. I've been so naïve. The fucking world does not revolve around me. It revolves around her.

I can hear the laughter now. All her pretty friends with their pretty lives. Then there's me, lurking in the shadows like the outsider I am. Not wanting to get the stares and whispers. I can't help who I am, I'm a reckless spirit on a downward spiral with one thing holding me above water and she doesn't even know it's her.

It's not her fault she doesn't know. She's not a mind reader. I should be man enough to tell her how I feel, but when I try, the words come out all jumbled and I feel like a dumbass. I can't put them in order and then I get pissed and walk away leaving her standing there alone. I see the hurt in her yes, God, you'd have to be fucking blind not to.

But there she is and here I am in the shadows. All it would take from me is just one little phrase. A few words strung together that would let her know how much I care for her. But I can't. I want to, God, do I want to but the words won't form for me. If she could see it in my eyes then everything would be okay; but I managed to fuck that up too. I don't have to wear dark glasses to hide my eyes; I can do that with a thought or a trance. I've mastered that blank stare and now it's back to bite me on the ass.

Her arms are in the air now and she's twirling around and around. I can make out the shimmer of flames against her silhouette and then she stops. I can't hear anything over the beating of my own heart. She sees me and I stand up waiting for her to come to me, because that's what I do and she does.

It's different this time. As she nears me I try to dump out the void I feel inside and fill it with her soul. I don't let my eyes fade to black this time. My tongue is thick but the words are so close. She steps in front of me and takes my hand.

"Maria…" I can't finish because I'm scared she might run. I look at her and see it's okay.

"I know Michael, I know." She smiles and catches my eye.

It's all different now. She knows how I feel and it didn't kill me to let her see. She's my redeemer. She's my salvation. She's my reason.


end


becky
beckyrocks.com