AN: Psst! Just so you guys know...I don't own the spectacular movie Howl's Moving Castle. Or Maximum Ride for that matter. Phew. Glad I got that off my chest...
So, this is the first post of October. Who else is wondering where the heck 2010 went?
Sensuality warning for this chapter! But I think this is the kind you'll like, especially with every other review shouting at me for this. I'm pretty sure you guys will like this chapter lots. ;D Enjoy!
The Battle of the Exes
Summary: Two years after Fang left, he's back, with his own flock, on Jeb's orders. Chaos ensues as Dylan fights for Max, Max wreaks havoc on Fang and his new 'girlfriend', and Fang attempts to execute his own plans without revealing his ulterior motive for returning.
Chapter Eleven: Lovesick
About half an hour after Lux left, Angel strolled in. She got right to the point. "Hey, Max, do you wanna come with us to the movies?"
I eyed her over the top of my book. "Who's 'us'?"
She shrugged, but read my real question. "I don't know if Fang's gonna come. I haven't asked him yet. But so far everyone else had said yes."
That meant Izzy and Dylan were going. Well, I never really liked the movies anyway…. But what if Fang wasn't going? I didn't want to be stuck here with him.
"Why don't you ask him while I think it over?"
Angel nodded okay and left.
I waited and waited for her to come back. She didn't.
Finally, wondering if the flock (my flock, that is) had gotten kidnapped or something, I wandered downstairs. The house was so silent I could hear the fridge rumbling.
"Hello? Anyone here?" I called out unsurely. There was no reply.
I shrugged to myself. Oh, well. They probably just forgot to ask and left. No big deal. I was heading back to my room, passing the living room, when a dark figure in there moved. I yelped pathetically.
At first I thought it was Iggy, because the figure was tall and lean. "Geez, you scared me. Why didn't you answer when I called out?"
As the figure came closer, I saw that he was too dark for Iggy. I was ready for a fight when I noticed that the figure was not unfamiliar. It was Fang.
Automatically, I relaxed. My mom's house wasn't getting robbed.
"Sorry, I must've dozed off. You woke me when you called."
It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about. "Oh. It's okay. Whatever."
"Everyone took off."
I nodded. I had figured that much out. But if they had left—
Oh, hell no. They had left me with Fang. Alone.
I was going to kill them when they got home.
But first, I decided to get to the bottom of this.
"What about you? Why're you still here?"
Fang shrugged. "I didn't feel so good," he stated simply.
"Oh."
He gestured to the living room. "You wanna join me?"
I raised an eyebrow at him. We hadn't exchanged so much as a glance since our fight the week before and now he was inviting me to sit with him? What the heck?
"We can watch our own movie," he suggested.
And, now that he brought it up, I realized that I suddenly really did want to curl up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and watch a movie. Without thinking about who it was lending the idea, I nodded. I could watch a movie with him, couldn't I? I mean, he was my ex, not some leper. And besides, I was over him and he knew it. It was just a movie.
(So why was my heart fluttering at the thought?)
"I'll go make some popcorn," I told him and ran off to the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, "You pick the movie!"
When I returned with a nice steaming bowl of popcorn, I realized that there was only one couch facing the TV at a decent angle. And Fang was sitting on it.
But, I would not falter. I curled up around the arm on the opposite side of the sofa.
"You planning to share the popcorn?" Fang asked, picking up the remote.
I passed him the bowl. "What movie is it?" I hoped it wasn't something stupid.
He ate some popcorn before answering. "Howl's Moving Castle."
I raised my eyebrows. "You like anime?"
He nodded. "Is it okay with you? We can watch something else if you want."
I shook my head. "No. I like this one."
For nearly two hours, we watched the movie in silence. I eventually moved so that the popcorn was easier to share. I found that being with Fang like that wasn't awkward at all. It was actually comfortable, like the good old days. We even fought a little over some of the popcorn, snickering and chortling.
I didn't realize that I'd been scooting closer to him throughout the entirety of the movie. Or that he'd also been coming closer. When there was hardly any popcorn left, we both reached into the bowl at the same time, hands brushing. Suddenly, I didn't care about that last kernel of popcorn anymore. Especially when Fang's fingers curled around mine.
My breath caught in my throat and my heart stopped.
He squeezed my hand, clasping it in his completely.
I squeezed back, turning to look at him, swallowing the gigantic lump in my throat. Oh God…
Fang was looking at me, no longer paying attention to the movie. His eyes were mesmerizing and I found myself leaning closer…
Or was that him doing the leaning?
Either way, I soon closed my eyes and felt his lips brush mine. My heart picked back up double time.
"Max…" he whispered. And then he kissed me again. This one didn't end so soon. I let him kiss me and I may have even kissed him back. This didn't feel wrong, like when Dylan had kissed me. This felt so incredibly right. I pushed myself closer to Fang, ignoring the sound of the popcorn bowl falling to the ground. All there was was Fang, me, and this kiss. I found my hands tangling in his hair as his own caressed my face, held me by my back. My wings shuddered and I could feel the goose flesh on my arms. I pulled myself closer to him, until every part of us seemed to be sewed together with no end and no beginning. I could taste the euphoria in this all, in this kiss, my first real kiss in two years. His lips were gentle but I knew he wanted this. Truthfully, I wanted it too. Then he started to push, more eager, more insistent. I didn't stop him; I just kissed him back, harder. I could feel his lips curled in a smile and I couldn't help but smile with him. I loved it, loved him, loved Fang.
I loved him. I still loved him.
And that love had given him the ability to break me.
I broke away from him. His eyes still closed, he murmured, "Max. I'm sorry." He kissed my cheek. "I am so sorry."
I wanted to believe him, I really did. I even wanted to let myself love him again. But then my pride kicked in. Fang had made me weak. He had broken me into pieces.
I got up from the sofa. "I'm sorry, too."
And I left him there, feeling more confused than I have ever been in my entire life.
{[(/*\)]}
Fang groaned in frustration and leaned back into the couch. He didn't even want to finish the movie, though it was one of his favorites. For the first time in two years, he had felt…alive. Kissing Max, being with Max, everything about her seemed to wake up some long-forgotten emotion deep within him.
And with her rejection, it all fell down and he died. Again. Just like old times, she had bailed on him.
She had so much control over him. The nature of his day, good or bad, was determined by her, whether she came downstairs smiling or frowning, grinning or glaring. When she hadn't been around, all his days were hovering around the "bad" area, just because she wasn't by his side.
He had left, hurting himself, because he'd been convinced multiple times that it would be good for her. But obviously, it had hurt her as much as, or even more than, it had hurt him. He had heard different perspectives on what Max had been like without him, ranging from "It was like she was dead," to "She just didn't care about anything anymore." All of these hit him like a knife, though. He had hurt her, even when he'd been trying not to.
Fang ran his hand through his hair, tugging some, and absentmindedly watched the credits roll. The white letters on the black background almost seemed to sink in, blurring into all sorts of shades of gray.
His bones ached for Max. It had been so good to have her by him, even if it hadn't been long and even if she had been reluctant at first. But then she had leaned into him, had kissed him, like she'd wanted it just as badly as he had. She had melted and thawed under his touch. He had gotten through to her.
And then she had pushed him out again, slamming a door into her heart.
The screen went black. The credits were done. He had to get up and do something now. His back creaked as he stood up, his wings stretching slightly. He rubbed at his sleepy eyes. He robotically hit buttons on the DVD player and TV to retrieve the disc and put it away.
Fang's legs moved automatically up the stairs, carrying him up to the room where he was sleeping. Apparently it was the room that Iggy and Dylan usually shared. Fang wasn't sure how Iggy could stand Dylan, but then he'd realized that Iggy was only in his room half the night; the other half he was with Ella, gallivanting about the house, and maybe even the neighborhood, doing God-knows-what. Fang found himself wondering if Ella at all minded the fact that her boyfriend had wings.
He maneuvered himself down the hallway and saw the door to Max's room was closed. He could see that the light was on and he heard the muffled sounds of movement. Max.
Fang's feet caught on something and he bumped his knee on something else he didn't bother to look at, catching himself on the doorframe to the bedroom. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He limped over to his makeshift bed on the floor and once he was in range, he just let his body fall onto the mattress. The sensation of falling nibbled at his nerves and he thought about going for a flight. But then his stomach churned and a sudden soreness flowed through his wings and he knew that if he tried, he would probably end up falling for real and going splat.
Maybe Max's rejection really was affecting him, physically, not just emotionally.
His stomach churned again, worse this time. The nausea swept over him suddenly and he pulled himself to his feet too quickly. His brain spun in his skull as he jogged clumsily to the bathroom, tripping over his own feet. He got there just in time, vomiting into the open toilet. It only made him feel sicker.
Fang stumbled back to the bedroom. Max was still in her room, bustling about. Fang nearly collapsed, catching himself on something he couldn't see. As soon as he let go, it toppled over and he heard the sound of breaking glass. He would have to explain to Dr. Martinez about that. He didn't even have the energy to clean it up.
His legs gave way when he reached the doorway. He crawled over to his mattress, trying to wipe the sweat from his brow. He felt sticky all over, his mouth tasted horrible, and he wanted to die. His throat burned and his head ached. His mind began to slip away into the darkness and his thoughts became muddled. He couldn't remember what had happened five minutes before, what he was wearing, where he was, or what color Max's hair was.
As Fang's eyes closed themselves, though, Fang knew one thing for sure:
He wouldn't have to lie about not feeling good anymore. He would just sleep until the nightmare was over.
AN: Didn't I say you guys would like it? At least, up until the part where Max walks out...
HELP, HELP! So I'm (still) working on my Hunger Games oneshot, and my copy of Mockingjay is (still) out on loan. COULD SOMEONE PLEASE REMIND ME WHAT THE LITTLE GIRL AT THE END LOOKS LIKE?
As I mentioned before, it is now October. I now have exactly one month before NaNoWriMo, which I seriously intend to do this year, do and complete. I've been prepping all summer and I'm anxious to start writing for real already. Who's with me? Check it out by sticking a ".org" on the end of "NaNoWriMo."
REVIEWS are like...PEPTO-BISMOL. I think Fang could really use some of that...Care to help him out? REVIEW!
