Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't get money for anything I do...I don't even get paid at my job. For some reason I'm into doing unprofitable things.
A/N: So, I'm laying awake one night and outside my window the snow is coming down. I can't help but lay there and wish that it was summer with rain splattering down instead of the snow. This all leads me to an idea when I get up for a drink of water and comment to myself on being restless. This is what you get when I can't sleep...I hope it's worth the hours of rest I lost coming up with it!
BTW: Each chapter will feature a diff. character.
Restless
Chapter
1: Zack
The curtains billowed gently forward, riding a fragrant summer breeze,
and brushed against Zack's sweaty shoulder. His blonde hair was lightly matted
to his head, and his body was covered with a damp sheen. Physically, he was
satisfied but mentally he was struggling.
The tangy rain scented air rushed around him, accompanying the sound of
crickets outside the window. The woman beside him appeared through the mists of
his mind. Her body, which had facilitated him so well moments before, became a
source of irritation once as the warmth radiating from her sunk into his muscle,
raising his temperature to an uncomfortable level. The night was sticky, and he
forced back the urge to push her away in disgust.
Bad enough you take advantage of her like a whore, no need to deny her
this night's sleep.
He pinched his eyes closed, fighting back the nauseated feeling that rose
hotly in his throat. On top of the lanky brunette, he'd never looked in her
eyes. Her brilliant azure colored eyes only made it more difficult for him to
pretend that she was Max.
Max didn't feel that way about him; her interests lied in Logan Cale.
So maybe he didn't feel brotherly toward Max, and maybe he wasn't always
around; that didn't mean he didn't care -- didn't feel. Zack didn't want
to feel, would have liked nothing more than to push Max out of his mind and let
sleep overtake him. However, sleep wouldn't come, and she continued to circle
his consciousness unabated.
The woman beside him sighed and shifted her position against him.
Outside, the light breeze picked up, causing the rough curtain to connect with
the skin of his shoulder again. Despite the heat, a shiver ran through him. He
looked down at her, trying not to notice the way the dim light arched through
her arched through her brown hair to show hints of blonde and red. He tried not
to notice her pale skin, tried to ignore all the ways that she was completely
unlike Max.
Why do I care? She's made it clear whom she wants, and it's not me.
So...why do I give a damn?
There was no answer to his question except the lonely little songs the crickets under his windowsill were belting out with all their tiny bug hearts. He felt like them sometimes...screaming for all he was worth to never be answered. No one came running when he called, that was his job.
He was the big brother, the protector. He held everyone together, kept
everyone safe. There was no one wandering the country making sure he was
safe and happy. The only one he had breathing down his neck was Lydecker, whom
he would much rather have taken a few more steps away from. However, he couldn't
afford to run from Lydecker and throw his brothers and sisters to the hounds.
So, he lived a life of constant fear.
For everyone -- for her -- he waded through a sea of fire and brimstone.
Occasionally, he got burned, but he hid his scars beneath a staunch outer lining
that he'd only let one person past.
Seeing Max outside Manticore, anxiety having over-run his body and mind,
he'd given in to all of his impulses.
Things are different with her. I can't hide from her -- can't bury
this damn emotion.
Shifting positions, he let his head come to rest against his companion's. He was tired physically, mentally, and emotionally but sleep danced just outside of his grasp. Zack couldn't let go of the stress, worry, and fear so inherent in his life to allow for rest.
Perhaps a little bitter, he reflected upon his time back at Manticore.
He'd gone in Max's place, sacrificed himself for her and received slightly less
than a thank you. Oh, she cared, only not in the sense that he wanted. There
were times when he was laying in his cell, still high on the drugs they'd given
him, that he would close his eyes and envision her. Her image was so real, like
he could have reached out and touched her had he wanted to.
God, he'd wanted to, but whenever he reached for her she disappeared like
a phantom into the chilled night.
Zack had stupidly assumed that his pain would make a difference between
them, that somehow it would make her see exactly what she meant to him. Still,
when he blandly had told her that he felt different about her than the others,
she'd only given him a confused glance -- making him immediately want to swallow
his tongue.
The bruises, cuts, scars -- as many inside as out -- served to remind him
of what the torture he had endured had brought him. His blood was worthless,
would be shed cheaply. To Max, however, Logan's veins might as well have been
filled with liquid platinum.
The shots, the hours of agony, the gnawing at his fragile mental state
all meant nothing to her. Zack was weary of being the one who had to take pain
with a grunt and nothing more. He wanted someone to cradle him when he got hurt,
to throw themselves in front of the loaded gun. It was a selfish and lonely
wish. Everyone depended upon him, when things went wrong; he had to fix the
problem. He could never look to someone else to handle things.
Worn thin, beaten down, and defeated...he lay in the spongy bed and
listened to the crickets sing mournfully to each other. None really
communicated, but all were absorbed in their own song. Phrase after phrase, they
filled the summer night with their restless symphony.
The woman rolled away from him then, her fingers digging into the pillow
near her cheek. She looked pleasantly content in sleep, quietly confident that
nothing could harm her.
Little did she know, Zack wouldn't be beside her when she awoke. However, for the time being, he let himself lay under the downy covers; his mind on an endless, restless journey.
*okay...that
sort of sucked. I promise the next will be better*