DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel is not mine.
A/N: It's been a long time since I've written anything. Pardon the roughness. I tried writing so many times, but it seems that life and law school have more than robbed me of time, but also of my writing style. Ha! I don't know if I can ever find my mojo again. But, here's one small attempt. All I can say is, I'm trying, okay?
A/N2: Set right at the end of the scene where Max tells Alec about Ben, and he puts his arm around her, whispers into her hair. I just wanted a little vulnerability for the female fog bank that is Max.
NEED
It wasn't about love.
It wasn't about forgiveness.
It wasn't about friendship.
It was about need.
Max felt Alec's heart beat beneath her ear. Her eyes slowly fell shut, and she felt warm tears trickle down the curve of her cheek. It had been so long—too long—since she had been so close to another person that her ear rested just over his heartbeat.
She slowly, subtly shifted her weight on the stool so that she leaned deeper into his embrace.
His arm tightened around her shoulder.
The contact—a simple arm around her shoulder, the warmth that emanated from him, the sound and feel of his heartbeat—it filled her with the sheer rightness of it. She felt him shift his weight, too, leaning over her almost protectively. His arm scooped her even closer, and she couldn't fight it. She wouldn't.
She needed it.
How long since she had really touched someone?
How long since she had settled into someone's embrace?
How long since she had been still enough to listen to someone's heartbeat?
Too long.
Even before the virus with Logan, she had barely succumbed to the need to touch someone. She settled for fists and punches, however playful and light, they were all she ever allowed herself. She had not known there was anything else.
She had been with so many men—but never stayed in their embrace, never listened to the rhythm of their heartbeats, never absorbed their warmth, never felt the need.
Softly, his lips grazed over her hair again. "Max," he whispered hoarsely, a question in the rough timbre of his voice.
"Alec?" Her voice wavered. She felt robbed of air. She couldn't breathe. Please don't let me go.
"I'm sorry about Ben," he murmured, the warmth of his breath tickling the sensitive hairs just over her forehead. "I didn't know. I never thought that—" he broke off, at a loss for words. His embrace tightened. And she breathed.
It was all Max needed.
She didn't know how to ask. She had no words, no idea. How do you ask for someone to just care about you? How do you ask someone to just…hold you?
It seemed so simple—the need to be touched. Why was it so hard to ask for it?
She turned her head slowly, and laid her lips just over his heart, feeling it pulsing. He stiffened, surprised. But his heart pounded ever faster, deeper, stronger.
Her arm tentatively came around his waist as he adjusted to hold her better. Soon, she was cradled against him, and he against her, both his arms wrapped tightly around her. She clung to him and held on.
She needed this.
"I'm right here."
It wasn't about Ben. It wasn't about love. It wasn't about friendship or passion or desire. It was like air. It was like breath. It was like need. And somehow, Alec knew. Somehow, he saved her.
END.
