h e a v y . a s . e m p t y
by bulletproof (bulletproof_android@yahoo.com)
characters owned by cameron/eglee. title from fiona apple's 'first taste'.

She sits stiff amongst dirty, rough sheets, no longer warm and silken like she once felt inside. The cold, hard back turned against her shifts in sleep, now that the fact is over, now that the heat is over, and Max decides it's time to get gone.

Pulling on her old, rumpled clothes from the floor, Max slips out of the other's apartment without a second glance at the boy who had shared her heat with her, scratched an itch, sated an urge, whatever, it was over over over now and the heat had slipped away, only leaving Max colder.

Entering her own empty apartment, she bypasses the sleeping body in the other room and steps into the shower, icy pin-pricks of water biting at her skin, hollow sobs echoing off the tiled walls. Max has been here before, but for the life of her, she can't remember feeling this cold, feeling this empty and she starts to wonder why.

Water sliding away from her skin, she steps out of the shower and pulls on the same old, rumpled clothes, knowing, hoping that the night isn't over, that it doesn't end like this.

Saddling a leathered leg across six-hundred cc's of raw power, Max guns the beast between her thighs and starts to roam the lonely streets. She knows exactly what she's looking for.

Not heat, not cold, but warmth. Status fucking quo, back to a time when things were somewhere closer to simple and the memory of a pair of sparkling baby blues was enough to keep her warm at night.

He takes her in like he always does and takes care of her like he always does, but Max was tired of always, always waiting and always, always going home alone so she does the only thing she knows. She pounces on him, mauling his mouth until his back wheel hits the edge of a petition, jolting them to a stop. Logan's eyes are fire as he reaches over and consumes her mouth and she lets him take her whole so the heat will infect her too, so she won't be left so cold. It would've worked, too, if he weren't so damn perceptive, if those bitter tears hadn't started to leak from her eyes, until there he was, demanding, in that soft, urgent tone of his, what the dealio was.

Max stiffens, plays dead, takes the fifth until she dares to look up and sees those same sparkling baby blues piercing through her soul. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from those, she spills like a glass of milk, crying over "Manticore" and "mating cycles" until there's no more left to spill, until there are no more tears to cry, until it's all out and out and out of her, but he's still there, wiping away her tears with the pad of his thumb, still there with his sparkling baby blues.

He kisses her, then, lips soft and smoothing over her trembling mouth, beard rough and rasping over her delicate chin. He kisses her, then, all soft and rough, voice gravel and honey, all 'I know and know and know you'.

Logan takes her and lays her down on soft, white sheets, the clean still clinging to them through the scent of his sleep. She wants him to and he lays her down on downy sheets and a shelter of arms.

He undresses her slowly, carefully, like something precious, something loved, and she feels a mellow fire, a different fire starting in her belly.

He makes slow, sweet love to her, like she knew he would, nose nudging against hers, arms braced, cradling her head while his body blankets her and his mouth everywhere all at once.

Max thinks for a split second that this is it. That running this far, this fast, she'll get away from the itch, from Manticore and her tricked up body and

Oh.

GOD.

It doesn't, doesn't matter anymore cos she's not running but flying, falling, ecstasy unravelling over her everywhere all at once and God and God and

"Logan!"

This was it, this was cold and empty left behind for warm warmth and soft softness and a cradle of arms to keep her warm at night.

This was his sparkling baby blues staring down at her now, in the morning, for the rest of eternity and his quiet strength pulsing in her for always.

This was full, not heavy as empty, and her whispered words of gratitude, of promise of many more to come, "Happy Anniversary."

END
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