/a.n./ Well, this is my first story in the MR fandom, so I thought I'd keep the stories short until I got a hang of the characters. I hope you like this; and I can promise Fax fluff!
Disclaimer: Do we really need to do this? No, I am not James Patterson. I own nothing but the plot for this story. Let's add something random here. I love bacon!
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Silence
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Opening her eyes, she waited as the last trace of her sleep left her. She lay there, wide awake, trying not to make a sound. It was still dark, and the faint trace of moonlight that came in from the narrow opening of the cave threw shadows across walls. She could just barely distinguish the silhouettes of her flock from the jagged stones that jutted out from the walls. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of their chests, she would have thought them to be gone.
Seconds ticked by as she lay on the hard ground. She had never been a good sleeper. She found it lucky if she could close her eyes for a couple of hours. Even that was impossible for her at most times. There was always something there, something nagging her, something pulling her back to consciousness every time she attempted to catch a break. Those "breaks" weren't nearly as frequent as she would have wished them to be…
Some kids complained about getting vanilla ice cream instead of chocolate. Maybe it was her luck, that she had to choose between caterpillars and desert rats. Sometimes neither. It wasn't as if she had chosen to be on the run all the time. But all the same – she couldn't complain. This was where she belonged, huddled in a cave with her family. Yes, she was proud to call them her family. She was happy to be a makeshift mother to this flock, however tiresome it may be.
She gave up on sleeping after a while, it was no use. Craning her neck a little, she watched the entrance of the cave and the eerie shadows against the damp walls. It was cold tonight, much much colder than she would have liked. She shivered involuntarily and rubbed her arms in hopes of warmth.
An arm curled around her waist.
She suppressed a gasp as she felt it; relaxing a second later as she sensed its owner. Her coiled muscles loosened, and she felt the arm pull her closer.
"Couldn't sleep?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
"No." Fang's voice came from behind her as he hooked his chin on her shoulder. She smiled in the darkness, savoring his warmth. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms as a chilly wind found its way into the cave. She felt his calloused palms rubbing her arms, trying to bring back their lost warmth. Her hand found its way to him, and she slipped her fingers through his, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
It was moments like these that she adored. When the rest of the world was asleep and she could just enjoy being close to him. When she could be Max, just Max, as opposed to the selfless leader who always knew what to do. Because in truth, she didn't. She didn't know where they would go from here. Heck, she didn't even know what they would have for breakfast once morning came around. And she feared the unknown, though she would never let her fear show in front on her flock. But with Fang, it was slightly different. And that slight difference was all she really needed.
His lips came down on her neck, trailing barely-there kisses along her jaw line to her cheek. She felt herself lean into him inadvertently, enjoying the feel of him so close to herself. His lips stopped moving as they reached the corner of her mouth; then with a sudden rush of desire, she flipped around under his arm and pressed her lips firmly against his.
After the initial shock of it had passed, he responded just as fervently as his hand travelled up to the back of her head to deepen the kiss. The arm woven around her waist tightened even more as he eliminated the last little gap between them.
She pulled away after a minute or two, the need for oxygen overpowering her desire. She tamed her fire bit by bit; afraid that she would get carried away and wake the flock up. Instead, she leaned her head on his chest and tried to concentrate on his rhythmic breathing. His hand drew abstract patterns on her waist as they lay there on the hard, cold ground.
He leaned his head down so their foreheads were touching.
"So where do we go from here?" he asked, lips brushing against hers with every word. She felt an electric current surge through her at each brush. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold anymore. The she realized that she hadn't answered. She opened her mouth, only to close it a moment later, a puzzled look plastered on her face.
Where would they go from here? She had absolutely no idea. She felt tears pricking at her eyes for the first time in moths – maybe even years. Somehow, he noticed them too. Slowly, he guided her head to the crook between his shoulder and his neck. She complied wordlessly; burying her face into the soft skin of his neck as she felt the first couple droplets leave her eyes.
She mentally kicked herself for breaking down. Why here? When everyone else was sleeping? In a goddamned cave? Apparently, life enjoyed slapping her in the face. A lot. She broke her chain of thoughts as she felt a set of lips making their way up her neck to her face. Just as his lips got close to her chin, she turned her head so her lips were once more brushing against his.
The tears had already dried out; gone as quick as they had come.
"I don't know." she whispered against his mouth. She felt him nod. Huffing under her breath, she slunk back into his chest and clutched the fabric of his bloodied shirt to herself. Why did everybody just have to look to her for guidance? Oh right; because she was the leader. It was easy to forget that sometime. Like when you were hiding out in the confines of a rain-pelted cave with no food and no plan.
She cringed as another gust of wind blew in through the opening. She pressed against his body even tighter, knuckles blanching against the fabric still clutched in her hands. He didn't complain, to her delight. She could feel the silent tears soaking into his shirt, and she hated herself for it. How was she supposed to be the leader if she couldn't even control her emotions?
He stroked her hair, long fingers getting caught in the snarls. He smoothed them out, to the best he could manage – not much of an upgrade. Still, he felt her relax against his chest.
"It's okay, you don't have to know…" he whispered into her ear, still stroking her hair. He felt her nod against his chest.
She loved him for that, for always knowing what she was thinking. He was no mind reader, but he didn't have to be to know exactly how she felt at all times. Sometimes it got annoying, but she couldn't complain this time.
He felt his hands move to her lower back and lock there. She breathed out slowly, in an effort to bring her heartbeat back to normal; and failed miserably. She was sure she could hear it thumping against her chest. To prove it, he chuckled and pulled her closer.
"In the morning….Iggy…" she whispered. There was no way their perverted comrade would let them have the end of it if they fell asleep like this. No way at all.
He shrugged. "Let him see us." He whispered nonchalantly. Well then… She smiled and nuzzled his neck, enjoying the feel of his skin against her face.
They didn't have to say anything; they never did. They knew each other past words, and talking was a tedious activity they didn't need.
Silence was all they needed.
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/a.n/ Reviews are loved!