The lover held her love,
She begs him not to go,
She unwraps his gloves,
The lover said I know I know I know,
Kissed his trembling lips,
She touched his fingertips,
Somehow they both know,
He's not comin' home, comin' home
The Fray "The Fighter"
She was propped up against the couch with her held titled back, her hair a suspended waterfall of liquid gold, when he entered his apartment that night.
A fringe of gold dusted eyelashes brushed her cheekbones as she turned her lovely tawny gaze to him. For a moment, she studied him in a languid sweep before her strawberry lips formed into a delicate smile.
They watched each other for a long minute as if both of them were afraid that if they made even the slightest movement the world would suddenly tilt and the other would disappear.
In the end, she was the one to make the first move. Her first step was tentative but once her left foot hit the carpet, her hesitation melted away. In a quiet confidence, she approached him in dainty perfect steps that almost make him think that she was gliding through the air rather than walking. She only paused when she is right before him, close enough he could feel her radiating heat without touching her.
Her slender fingers reached out to brush away a stray strand, her nails barely brushing against his skin. The light contact made him feel as if he is standing before an electrical fence as the magnetizing heat of her fingertips sizzled against the surface layer of his skin, exciting his slightly dull and deadened nerves to a heightened excitement. And she knew this too for her lips twitched into a grin at the imperceptible reaction.
"Welcome back." The words were carried by two short exhalations of breath to his lips before being reclaimed by hers.
She waits for his response but he refuses to give her one. Because he knows very well that if he tries to capture her sweet taste he will want more, something he isn't deserving of having.
Watching her beautiful features twist in to the expression of sadness almost breaks his heart. However, she does not let him feel guilty as she pulls him into the living room, guiding him with sure feet to the couch. They only halted when her small frame knocks into the strong back frame. She presses herself against the edge, pulling him too her with a single strong tug.
He needs both hands to stop his increasing velocity. The result is the intimate joining of their figures as he had cages her to the couch with his two arms. Yet that was far from the truth. She is not the one being caged but rather he is the one in shackles, victim to her every whim.
"Please don't go." Her fiery plea scorches his hypersensitive nerves and his willpower. The last remaining logic he has is the only obstacle which prevents him from making her his, instead of just pressing his nose into the crook of her shoulder.
"Please, Zane. I'm scared." She implores, her angelic voice turning her words into sweet trembling notes of emotion. "Please don't go tomorrow."
Her soft whimpers so endearing as her words slip under his skin. He is losing control, so rapidly he is frightened he will not be able to stop himself.
The pressure of her satin lips awakens him to reality. He isn't allowed to have her, to hold her, to love her. He can't promise her anything than danger and certain death.
With a gentle push, she reestablishes that intoxicating distance between him, the distance in which makes him feel both close and far away from her.
"Let's get you out of these soaking clothes." Her firm hands loosen the small buttons of his trench coat before it is flippantly thrown to the floor. His black turtle neck follows along with his socks and shoes leaving him vulnerable to her tawny irises.
Tenderly, she pressed her fingertips to his protruding collarbone only to soften her touch when he winced. Her nails were ghost against his skin as her fingers traveled in streaming lines against his skin. She pay close attention to his scars, tracing their shapes with her nails, kissing each one with her scorching touch before moving on to explore more.
Once she has fulfilled her curiosity, she shortens the distance between them, pressing her lips into his.
He can't hold back this time. He takes those satin lips of hers with his, his teeth and tongue laying claim to her saccharine taste. And she responds back with a delicious desperation, frightened he will disappear if she doesn't give him everything of her.
Because they know when tomorrow comes, he won't be coming home.
Author's Notes: Ever since watching the Yugioh GX series I have wanted to write a fic about these two. The dynamic between the two for me is amazing. Alexis is the only one who knows the "real" Zane and part of me believes that she is in love with him because of that trust he gives her. However, I don't think she will ever confess this too him because she feels she is beneath him on top of her rather apparent interest in Jaden.
However, I haven't written something about them because I couldn't write something which made me feel as if it was worthy of the too. But that changed when I heard the song "The Fighter" by the Fray, I thought of these two instantly.
This fic has no beginning or end but rather it is rather just a brief moment in their history. You will notice I didn't mention anything about their school days because of the fact this fic isn't about the past but rather the present and their limited time.
So now I am going to leave you with this final note. I would love to do a full story with this but do not have the time. If you would like to adopt this fic, please PM me.