To all those nice people (and there were a lot of them) who sent me lovely shiny words about the first part. I don't understand how something I thought of and wrote in about twenty minutes could have inspired such a response. I love you all! Kisses and hugs, and may there be no heffalumps or woozles under your beds.
20/4/00
*** The Day Is Short
Peace.
Quiet.
Tranquillity.
Serenity.
All these were good words, words that Michael Guerin liked. These words meant that there were no problems, no risks, nothing that could expose them. He especially liked them when he could apply them to whatever situation he was currently in, which, lately, wasn't very often.
He especially couldn't apply them to the situation he had just awoken too.
"What the hell do you two think you're doing?!" yelled Isabelle.
Michael had woken up at Isabelle's roar. At first, he had been disconcerted. Quickly following on that emotion was outrage. How dare Isabelle enter his room?
And then he realised why Isabelle was so angry.
He was in bed with Maria, and they had very few clothes on.
"Isabelle, get out." Michael said it very quietly, very coldly.
Maria, who had just awoken, was uncharacteristically silent.
Michael was angry. His apartment was his space, and Maria's space. It was their space. No-one else could come into it whilst it was their space. They didn't take their space out of there either. And here was Isabelle, here were their friends, who had invaded their space, had come in, uninvited, where Michael desperately didn't want them to tread.
To say Michael was upset would be an understatement. But he hid it well.
"No" said Isabelle, ice-queen mask firmly in place. "I want an explanation."
Michael sat up and looked at them.
"Get out."
"No."
"Get the *fuck* out now, Isabelle!"
Surprised at Michael's anger, the intruders left the way they had entered - quietly, and worried. Isabelle gave Michael and Maria one last glare, before slamming the door with her powers on the way out.
Maria sat up, and looked at Michael.
Michael was still very angry. Maria placed a hand on his cheek, and stroked it. He looked at her, calmer than before. She knew exactly why it bothered him, because it bothered her for exactly the same reason. They hadn't wanted this situation, but now it was here, and they had to deal with it.
Even if they would both rather just hold each other and go back to sleep.
***
In Michael's living room, Isabelle paced.
"What trouble has he got us into now, Max?"
Max looked at her.
"You don't know that they've done anything Izzy. And anyway, what would be wrong if they did?"
Isabelle stopped her pacing, and turned to stare at her brother.
"What's wrong? What could be wrong if they did? Max, we" she pointed to the two of them, and then towards Michael's closed door, "and he, are a-li-ens." She spelled it out for him, as if he were a stupid child. "She, is a hu-man." A look of chagrin appeared on her face. "And imagine the consequences."
***
Michael could feel Maria's confusion. She couldn't understand why Isabelle had been so upset.
Michael knew why Isabelle had been so upset, but he wasn't brave enough to tell Maria just yet. He hoped to keep it from her for just a little while longer.
But why? Michael thought for a moment, as he stroked Maria's arm. They sat there, his legs still entwined with hers, she watching him, as he thought. Why did he want to keep the news from Maria?
And he found the answer. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her. He would do anything to keep her from being hurt.
And the news he had would hurt her more than anything.
***
Liz had had quite enough. Isabelle was fuming, and abusing Maria and her flackyness, Michael and his inability to think with anything other than his cock, and the two of them and their stupidity.
Liz stood up from where she was seated next to Alex, strode across the room so she stood directly in Isabelle's path, and when Isabelle walked by her, reached out, and slapped her.
Isabelle recoiled away from Liz.
Liz walked determinedly back to the sofa and plonked back down. She looked at Isabelle.
"Why are you so upset?"
Isabelle looked away sadly, brave facade completely gone. She looked up again.
"I have some news" she said, very quietly, very sadly.
She looked broken.
***
Michael was in love with Maria.
The realisation hit him with a shock. *He* was in *love* with his beautiful little pixie girl, who held him when he cried and protected him from his dreams.
His dreams.
He groaned out loud, and Maria looked at him with worry.
"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.
Michael took her hand away from his cheek, and held it firmly between both of his own.
"I have some news" he said quietly.
***
There was silence in the living room. Isabelle's news had been shocking, to say the least.
The silence lasted for about a minute, when it was shattered by an ear-splitting shriek from Michael's bedroom.
The four of them opened Michael's door, to find a fully-clothed Maria throwing things at a half-clothed Michael whilst she cried and babbled incoherently.
"You bastard!" she screamed. "How could you!"
She threw the last item into the bag and zipped it shut with anger.
Maria picked up her bag and ran to the door. She turned back and glared at Michael.
"I protected you. I looked after you, and you dreamed of *her*!"
Maria turned and shouldered her way through the four intruders at the door, sobbing loudly. Alex and Liz glared at Michaeland Isabelle, and ran after her.
Isabelle and Max walked slowly into the room, but Michael recoiled away from them. They looked at him, thinking they understood his pain.
But they didn't. They couldn't. Not even Maxwell and his soulful problems could understand. Neither could Isabelle, even with her seeming betrayal of Alex.
Michael hugged his pillow to his chest pathetically, breathing in the smell that was Maria.
He looked up at them, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
"I'm in love with Maria Deluca, and she's going to hate me for the rest of her life."
***
End