An entire World
Summary: The difference is greater than he could have imagined. And it was just a kiss. OneShot.
Warning: I'm not male; I'm not a bird kid, I'm not in love and, most importantly, not Fang. So it might be a bit out-of-character. Let's hope just a bit.
Set: actually manga-verse, vol3.
Disclaimer: Standards apply.
It is just a gesture.
Fang means it to be comforting, even calming. He seldom touches people. It's not like he dislikes it or like he thinks it is dirty or something. The fact that he wears black clothes doesn't mean that he is what people call an emo nowadays. At least, he wouldn't call himself that. He doesn't hate the world or the people in it and he isn't overly emotional. Anyone who knows him can tell it is rather the opposite. A fridge is warm compared to him, somebody once said. Maybe he is like that but Fang doesn't believe in pretending to be someone he is not. And in regard to his clothing style: he just likes black. His hair is black. His wings are black. His eyes are black. Wearing black clothes, he can blend in with the shadows easily. It's helpful. That way, he can watch over the flock and make sure they are safe.
That way, he can watch over Max.
They have grown up together. Fang cannot remember a time when Max wasn't there. One of the first things he remembers of his life are iron bars in front of his cage at the School and Max on the other side of the room, her brown-blonde hair shining in the sunlight that falls through the small, barred windows.
Everything about her is soft-golden-brown: her hair, her skin and her eyes. Even her wings show the same mesmerizing composition of warm brown and gold tones.
Max is the golden sunlight on a garden path during summer, the comforting warmth of a lantern on dark nights, the sweet scent of wind on a spring evening.
Fang is the shadow under the trees, the cool breeze of the sea wind, the ever-watchful presence in the shadows.
There is an entire world between them and he never has felt so close to her like that moment when he touches her bare skin and feels her tremble.
(Her skin is flushed hot and wet from the shower and she is shivering so hard he fears she'll fall apart.)
"You'll find a solution, right?" She asks, her voice tiny but winning strength with every word. "Promise me you'll find a way to protect the flock. If I… If I turn into something else… If I turn into an Eraser."
It is Max who is sitting on the floor, only wrapped in a towel, her hair still dripping. She is staring at him, her eyes pleading with him silently. It is Max and yet Fang finds it hard to believe. Max is never scared, Max never freaks out like that. No, that's not true. Fang knows her better than that. Max is strong but sometimes she breaks down, too. She is only human (98% of her, at least) and she is only fourteen years old. She has every right to be afraid sometimes and it is then when he knows he will always be by her side to catch her when she falls.
"Promise me."
He can still see the fear boiling underneath her skin but she has caught herself now. The same determination that has saved them a thousand times is burning in her eyes again.
"I will."
He would promise her everything. And he never would lie. But right now, he is bending the truth, trying to promise something that does not sound like "I'll kill you to protect the flock." Because Fang may be strong, may be even stronger than Max. But he could never, ever, kill her. He couldn't kill his strongest ally and best friend. He couldn't kill his other half. Therefore, his promise now could be worded as "I will do everything to get you back and to protect the flock" and for a short second he wonders why Max comes first.
Their duty is to the flock, not to each other.
He pushes the thought into the background of his mind. Max comes first because without Max there is no flock.
"I'll do whatever is necessary."
Max calms down visibly. He can almost feel her heart-beat slowing beneath the soft skin of her shoulders, where his hand is still placed reassuringly. She sighs in content and leans her cheek on his arm and Fang feels his skin burn.
"I promise."
It is meant to be comforting. The only purpose of what he does now is to make her feel safe again, to chase away whatever images have been following her. Carefully, Fang presses his lips to her forehead.
Her skin is warm and the scent of soap still lingers on her skin.
It was supposed to be a reassuring gesture, no more. A sign that she isn't alone, that he always will be with her.
Just a tiny kiss, his lips barely brushing her skin.
And yet, Fang's heart starts beating painfully.
-v-
Woah.
Something is changing. Not changing slowly and steadily but changing like I'll-turn-your-world-upside-down-and-shake-before-you-can-even-say-What-The-Hell. It jumps at him like a red warning beacon he hasn't seen for years but that has been there all along and that suddenly has started singing corny love-songs off-key and really, really loudly.
Max.
She has always been there, they have always been together. Why have his feelings changed? Why can't he just see her like he sees Nudge and Angel – as his sister? Obviously he can't. Max comes first, always and forever. And after years of accompanying her as a brother and friend he suddenly wishes they could be more.
It is really annoying.
And it is strange, in so many different ways. The touch of her hand when she grabs his wrist to stop him from charging the guy who has, once again, stuck a Kick me!–sign on Iggy's back. The scent of her hair when she leaves the shower. The sound of her voice when she brings Angel to bed.
Why has it changed? How has it changed? And, even more important… What does it mean?
-v-
Lissa is what boys call pretty (Fang has overheard his classmates talk about her, they probably hadn't even realized he was close, hidden in the shadows as he was) and the interest she shows in him is more than enough to make even usually insensitive Gazzy giggle when he sees her. So maybe Fang's social skills are a bit rusty (it's what you get when you're stuck in a mountain hut for years with a crazy flock of bird-kids) but even he notices when someone outright throws herself at his neck.
Her pale skin and green eyes are striking and her hair is the color of dried blood. It is the only comparison Fang can think off and while it might not be flattering when spoken out loud it is enough for him. It is not like he can't stand the sight of blood. And she is intelligent. Anyone would have thought a girl like her – ruthlessly going after someone even though he is new in class – would be the typical annoying, dumb girl everyone hates. But talking to her is almost interesting. She has clear opinions of people in detail and in general. She doesn't only watch boring, romantic movies and her computer skills are above average. She shows him interesting websites – she's the one who introduces him to the website he will eventually create his own blog on – and can keep silent, too. The only annoying thing is that she sticks to him like chewing-gum. Wherever he goes, she follows him. She takes his arm when they walk along the corridor or his hand when they sit in class. She leans over the table during lunch and her fingers trace his features.
Fang does not dislike it.
He does not think it overly pleasurable, either.
It is pretty clear where Lissa is going – or rather, where she would like to go – and Fang's first instinct is to lean away from her as far as possible, tell her not to touch him again and to leave the empty classroom. But then he stops. What is it like? A tiny part of his brain wonders. Will it be the same? Maybe it is just him and his imagination. Lissa's hands are cool. He can feel it through the cloth of his uniform shirt. Her lips are warm, though, and the way she is leaning against him does not feel uncomfortable. Just not natural. He lets her kiss him nevertheless, even angling his head a tiny bit in order to let her reach him better.
It does not last long.
But it's long enough for Fang to realize something.
Kissing Max – even if she only kissed him once and he kissed her on her head only – is totally different from kissing Lissa. There is no heat that spreads from the points of contact where his and Lissa's bodies touch. There is no warmth radiating from her hands and not even her lips on his are enough to speed up his heart-rate significantly. Lissa is pretty and moderately interesting and most boys would be glad if she noticed them like she noticed Fang.
Lissa is pale, translucent skin, freckled, clinging arms, cool hands and red-golden hair.
Max is golden warmth and laughing eyes, silky-brown-and-golden hair and wings and sunset skies.
There is an entire world between the way Fang feels when he sees Lissa and when he sees Max.
-v-
There are only two ways to continue on with Lissa and both are fine in Fang's eyes because people who don't care about the consequences of their doing can live with whatever they have brought on themselves. Fang can tell her he does not want to see her anymore and leave. Or he can just continue for now. It is not like they are going to stay with Anne much longer. Max is already getting itchy and while everyone of the flock (except for Max, of course) enjoys their time in the FBI-agent's house Max and Fang both know it won't stay like this for long. There are too many questions, like why Anne hasn't left for work since they have arrived, or how the FBI knew about them, or what is going on with those flying erasers. Lissa is one of those people who seldom care about what other people think if there is something she wants and therefore there is no reason to treat her differently than she treats others.
But for some reason, Fang doesn't say anything.
Lissa breaks their kiss and smiles at him triumphantly and when he walks out of the classroom she takes his arm. During History lessons Fang tries to put together the pieces. And during Language Arts and Math. He hasn't gotten it entirely ready when he reaches home and he forgets most of it when they are attacked by Ari and his merry band of flying erasers again. Max' face is flushed and her eyes burn as she fights their arch enemies and she is iron steel and golden feathers and grim determination once again and he wonders.
Why?
Of course, there is no answer.
But deep down on the inside, he knows the only answer is Max. It is Max he loves and Max he wants and Max who always was and always will be in his heart. And until she understands he has to be patient. He feels her eyes bore into his head while they walk home and watches her stiffen when Lissa asks her if she was "Nick's" brother and can't help but smile inwardly.
Oh, Max.
He is not the only one who is changing.
Somehow, that makes him feel better.