SUMMARY: Michael reflects.
RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Michael POV, Michael/?
IMPROV: #1 - memory, idolize, servant, air
SPOILERS: "Departure"
DISTRIBUTION: ask me
DISCLAIMER: Jason Ketims owns the characters. I'm just using them for a while.
DEDICATION: To my dearest trixie whom I thank SOOO much for introducing me to Roswell fic!
FEEDBACK: PLEASE!
THANKS TO: all the people that have been so supportive of my Buffy- obsession and to my beloved beta, although she'll never see this message. Evil Willow ROCKS! Also to Melissa for ALL the inspiration and kind emails!
-Idol-
If memory serves, and I've got the time right, she'd be cleaning up and closing the restaurant, although I really can't be sure. Time seems to take too long here. Days melt into days, which go on and on forever.
But to be there again? What dreams are made of. To be buried inside her? Heaven, if there ever was one.
I crave her in the middle of the night. I wake in the middle of the night calling for her, reaching for her, begging for her warmth and love. I gasp for air as I realize that I'll never have that again.
I'm so freakin' stupid.
Getting dumber every day.
Every second.
If I only had her in my arms… I'd kiss her and touch her and… I'd put her on a pedestal and worship her for hours. I'd start at her feet and slowly kiss my way up that endless expanse of flawless tan. I'd shower her in kisses and tell her how much I love her. I'd bury my nose in her hair and get drunk on her for hours. I'd idolize her for hours upon hours while she moaned my name and I told her how beautiful she was. I'd be her perfectly willing servant and she, my goddess. My idol.
But that's a dream long since gone. That was another world, another time, another life. The life of a boy. That was a life with flawless tan skin and sweet tongues and an angelic voice that would ramble on and on forever.
I have pale skin now. Soft and flawless. But her hair isn't as sweet as my Maria's was. Her hair isn't as soft against my skin and her mouth doesn't taste the same.
What I wouldn't give to be back in Maria's arms… but…
"Michael, you're crying again."
"I know." I say and turn towards her.
"I'm sorry."
"I know." I say again as I touch her cheek and wipe her tears away.
"When will we stop missing them?"
"I don't know, Isabel. I don't know."
THE END
RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Michael POV, Michael/?
IMPROV: #1 - memory, idolize, servant, air
SPOILERS: "Departure"
DISTRIBUTION: ask me
DISCLAIMER: Jason Ketims owns the characters. I'm just using them for a while.
DEDICATION: To my dearest trixie whom I thank SOOO much for introducing me to Roswell fic!
FEEDBACK: PLEASE!
THANKS TO: all the people that have been so supportive of my Buffy- obsession and to my beloved beta, although she'll never see this message. Evil Willow ROCKS! Also to Melissa for ALL the inspiration and kind emails!
-Idol-
If memory serves, and I've got the time right, she'd be cleaning up and closing the restaurant, although I really can't be sure. Time seems to take too long here. Days melt into days, which go on and on forever.
But to be there again? What dreams are made of. To be buried inside her? Heaven, if there ever was one.
I crave her in the middle of the night. I wake in the middle of the night calling for her, reaching for her, begging for her warmth and love. I gasp for air as I realize that I'll never have that again.
I'm so freakin' stupid.
Getting dumber every day.
Every second.
If I only had her in my arms… I'd kiss her and touch her and… I'd put her on a pedestal and worship her for hours. I'd start at her feet and slowly kiss my way up that endless expanse of flawless tan. I'd shower her in kisses and tell her how much I love her. I'd bury my nose in her hair and get drunk on her for hours. I'd idolize her for hours upon hours while she moaned my name and I told her how beautiful she was. I'd be her perfectly willing servant and she, my goddess. My idol.
But that's a dream long since gone. That was another world, another time, another life. The life of a boy. That was a life with flawless tan skin and sweet tongues and an angelic voice that would ramble on and on forever.
I have pale skin now. Soft and flawless. But her hair isn't as sweet as my Maria's was. Her hair isn't as soft against my skin and her mouth doesn't taste the same.
What I wouldn't give to be back in Maria's arms… but…
"Michael, you're crying again."
"I know." I say and turn towards her.
"I'm sorry."
"I know." I say again as I touch her cheek and wipe her tears away.
"When will we stop missing them?"
"I don't know, Isabel. I don't know."
THE END
