AUTHOR'S NOTE: I obviously don't own the beautiful lyrics that I've placed
in this chapter. They belong to their rightful owners—Metallica. The song
is 'One.' I was thinking of a song that would play in this chapter, and
this has always been a favorite of mine.
Disclaimer: Some dialogue from the show has been used in this chapter.
~*~
Chapter Five
~*~
Liz woke to the low yet strangely soft sound of metal crashing against metal. She rubbed her eyes, finally finding that she was sleeping on the old couch in the backroom. She groaned, realizing she'd fallen asleep before the Crashdown had even opened. Her Dad must have called in Maria on her day off, as above the thump of the metal she could hear Maria patronizing Michael from inside the kitchen.
I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up I can not see
That there is not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
Liz found herself swaying slightly to the sound. Though the words were depressing and deeply sad, the song was beautiful. She wasn't a fan of metal, but she could see why Michael had chosen the song. It was rare he ever did—as Maria had complete control of the radio in the backroom—but Liz was glad for the change of pace. She got up, yawning in the process, and walked to her locker to grab her order pad. She'd send Maria home and finish up her shift, however long that was.
Liz walked towards the kitchen and saw Michael furiously working the grill as Maria animatedly talked to him at the counter. Liz smiled, trying to forget her moment with Michael the night before. She loved Maria to death, but Liz could see why Michael wanted to keep his distance from her. While she was glamorous and looking for true love, he was low maintenance and wanted someone more down to earth. She couldn't help but think that she was—in fact—more of his type.
She shrugged the thought, thinking it absurd. "Maria," Liz said quietly behind Michael, and she noticed as he audibly stiffened.
Liz didn't blame him. She had rejected him—given him something and then taken it back. If she were in his place, she would have been just as angry. Then why had she done it? Maria looked towards her friend, finally realizing her presence.
"I'm sorry Dad had to call you in. I'm up now, so you can leave if you'd like." Maria blew a sigh of relief, as if this moment was her one of true happiness, and stuck her tongue out at Michael as he rolled his eyes.
"Thank you, Chica! You are my savior." Liz smiled and turned to walk back into the backroom as her friend made her way into it. Though she'd only heard bits and pieces of the conversation, she was sure Maria was bugging Michael about what he'd wanted to see Liz about the night before.
Back in the womb it's much too real
In pumps life that I must feel
But can't look forward to reveal
Look to the time when I'll live
Fed through the tube that sticks in me
Just like a wartime novelty
Tied to machines that make me be
Cut this life off from me
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
"I need to ask you a question," Maria told her as she undressed to get back into her regular clothes. Liz stopped at the door, knowing this would have come sooner or later. While Michael would ignore Maria's questions, Liz couldn't. They were best friends. They told each other everything. Or at least they used to.
"What's up?" Liz asked casually, turning around as her friend pulled her shirt over her head and finished dressing.
"What's up is I left you a couple of messages on your machine last night and you never returned them. I just wanted to know what happened last night." Liz sighed, watching Maria look at her curiously.
"Nothing happened," Liz confirmed for her friend. "He just wanted to ask me something about one of his classes." Liz almost winced. Bad lie. Maria would see right through it.
Maria looked her over for another moment, and then shrugged. "I will never understand him," she laughed softly to herself and then made her way past her friend. "I'll call you later, alright?"
Liz nodded her head, almost numbly, and then followed her friend out of the back room to finish the rest of her shift.
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
Now the world is gone I'm just one
Oh God, help me hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God help me
~*~
Later that Sunday evening, Liz leaned against the pale green table that was lined with silver. She shook her head, shaking off the sudden headache that had invaded her mind. It's ache dulled, but Liz could still feel it pulsing. She shook her head, picking up the broom again and making a final swoosh before picking up the dustpan and pocketing its contents into the trash bin. She felt a prickle on her neck, a sensation that she wasn't alone.
Looking up, she saw Michael watching her critically from the door to the backroom. She sighed in relief, somehow fearing the worst. Somehow she'd forgotten that she and Michael were both closing up. While the other day she'd wished she didn't have to close up with Maria, tonight she wished it with an ever-growing ferocity. Michael made her forget herself—lose control. And that was not acceptable.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Liz shook her head as if in answer, and he took a step forward.
"Nothing." Liz assured him, taking the broom and walking behind the counter. Michael took a place in one of the seats, as if taunting her answer, and Liz busied herself by cleaning the counter. Maybe he would just leave. Maybe she was being ever too hopeful.
Liz turned, her back to him, and she prayed he'd leave. But then—as if creeping up behind her and breathing down her neck with presence—a part of her longed for him to devour her whole. It had been so long since she'd felt pleasure without worry. Had she tried to kiss Max, she was certain that would come with pain.
Her attraction to Michael—while still too strange to place—was growing with every ticking second. She could feel it as her body seemed to move, but her mind didn't. Liz turned, tripping on the dustpan she'd carelessly placed on the floor. She hissed, grabbing her ankle, and Michael swiftly made his way around to help her.
He helped her around the counter and into a seat at one of the tables. Liz sighed, the pain lifted from her foot. He pulled a seat up across from her, and coaxed her to lift her leg. "Let me see."
Liz looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the softness held deep in his eyes. She complied; her worry long forgotten of him touching her and she actually enjoying it. Maybe this was a test. A test to show her that there was nothing between them after all—that it was all some fluke that would disappear once his fingers healed her ankle.
Her ankle rested on his knee, and he carefully took her shoe off. Liz sighed once it was off, some of the pain relieved. He pushed her sock down a little, eliciting a groan from Liz, and mumbled a sorry. And then his fingertips made contact with her skin.
Liz gasped, and hoped he hadn't caught on to her obvious reaction to his mere touch. He rubbed his finger over the bruise already forming, and Liz closed her eyes. She sighed as she felt warmth heat her ankle; sending electric sparks of health throughout her body. And she'd thought Max's healing was euphoric.
Her lips pursed, and while her ankle was healed, she noticed his hand hadn't left it. Liz opened her eyes slowly, peaking to see what he was doing. His eyes were on her, for once soft and open. Liz wanted to study his eyes—to map them in her mind so she could find the true meaning behind them and all that they revealed—but he started speaking.
"We can't do this, Liz," Michael said hoarsely with resignation. His hand left her ankle, and she pulled it down. Her desire was now taboo, and she realized that this time Michael was the one to bring them back to reality. A reality where they weren't friends and sure as hell weren't together.
"I know." Liz said softly, her voice filled with sorrow. Since when had she been so utterly miserable in that she and Michael couldn't further continue their exploration of each other? She and Michael. She wanted to taste his name on her lips, but the effort to do so was too much to bear.
He obviously was feeling something for her too, but it wouldn't be right. While they were single, they still had attachments to attend to and roles to play. Liz sighed, getting up from the chair as Michael did. "We can still be friends." Liz assured him. Or maybe she was assuring herself.
He nodded gruffly, his eyes darting anywhere else but hers. Was this what awkward felt like? It felt more like misery. "Sure, Parker. Just don't expect me to tell you my deepest secrets or anything, alright?"
And with that he filed out of the Crashdown, the bell above the door clinging on his way out. Liz felt a small smile spread across her face at the irony of his statement. "Too late."
She finished closing up the Crashdown, in silence as before, and then headed up for bed.
~*~
Zan's eyes bore into that of Lonnie's, his sister and enemy. She was talking animatedly, her familiar eyes lost of any glitter of life or compassion. Her face was hard, emotionless in that it was without light. "Remember, Max. Lives hang in the balance. You gotta think of what you'll be puttin' them through if you refuse."
He sighed, getting up and trying to play the confused good-doer part. She sat in a wooden chair, Rath at the foot of the quilt covered bed and Tess and Ava standing inches apart by the door. Isabel was in the next room, knowing there was a meeting being held but she feigned apathy and Zan couldn't blame her.
Lonnie and Rath's act was tired, and if these smarts could tell, they were spitting out bullshit. Loads of it. "Max, I think you should consider what she's saying." Zan looked towards Tess quizzically, curious as to why she was so eager to go to New York when she had such a hard on for Max. Wouldn't she be at his beck and call? He shrugged off her proposition with a wave of his hand.
"It's too risky. I can't go across the country without knowing what I'm getting into," Zan stopped, facing off with Lonnie as she rose slowly from the chair. If her face could look more menacing, it did. She was livid. Zan bit back the urge to smirk with a smug glint in his eye that he was sure would reside once she made her exit. And before she left Roswell, he'd finish them all off. One by one.
Rath growled from where he was sitting, the perfect picture of frustration. Zan swirled his head around, staring him down until his gaze faltered with a shrug. "Your making a big mistake, ya hear?" Lonnie shot out, advancing closer to him. Zan's veins pulsed under his skin and his stance tightened as he got ready for what he was sure would be a fight that would ensue.
He hand quivered as he moved to raise it, but before any action could take place he heard a loud cough from the far right of him. He turned his head, lowering his arm, to stare agape at Max Evans who was standing in the doorway of his now open bathroom. In turn, everyone else present in the room stared open mouthed. The shit had hit the fan. And Zan had no idea how it was going to go down.
~*~
"Hi."
Though it was becoming a regular occurrence for Max to visit Liz's balcony, Liz had still found it just as surprising. He was kneeling on the other side of the window as she too kneeled inside her room. Her hand rested on the windowsill, unsure of what his intentions were this time. Liz tried to focus her eyes on the mahogany brown of the wood paneled around her window, faded from years of mis-care, but Max's eyes held much deeper thoughts. Sadness. Defeat. For once, there was no hope.
"You said you wanted to be friends, and I thought about it. And," Max paused to take a breath, "I realized that I can't be friends with you because I'm still hanging on," Max paused once again, as if his words were hard to muster. "To you. To what we had. So I decided to make a clean break."
Max fumbled something out of his navy blue jacket, and held it out for Liz to see. "Here." Liz looked down from her ex boyfriends face and saw a silver pocketknife with a small cursive inscribing. 'Max and Liz Forever.'
Liz felt the cool of the silver as it slipped into her hand, and she found her words. "Max, this is yours. I gave it to you last Christmas." She understood the meaning behind it, but it was hard to accept. All this time she'd been rejecting Max, and now it was his turn to reject her. By getting rid of all evidence that they'd had a close relationship. Liz gulped back the urge to cry out, and watched him as he gave her one of his mournful looks.
"I'm giving it back." Max replied without hesitation. "I'm—I'm going to New York with Rath, Lonnie, Zan and," Max paused once more, the next word difficult to slip from his lips. "And Tess. To the summit."
Liz realized another hidden meaning by giving it back. Tess. She was joining him in New York, which meant Liz was becoming successful in her task. It made her sick to her stomach. "Are you gonna come back?"
Max was surprised by her question, but answered it anyways. "I don't know. I can't think that far ahead." Liz gripped the pocketknife in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the inscription without notice.
She found it weird that while she'd recently required an attraction to Michael, nonetheless brought to life by Zan, she still had a lingering love for Max. While she'd hoped all her preaches to Max would be the ending result of the end of her love for him, she knew that was held in his hands. And he was finally giving back to her what she had given up so long ago.
Liz bit her lip, knowing that this moment between the two was a closure for the both. Or at least, for her, because she had no idea who Max was anymore. As Future Max had once said, 'This is a different world.'
Max turned to leave, a sign that the conversation had been severed. Through all her jumbled and confusing thoughts, Liz remembered the Granolith. Liz wasn't sure what it could do; since Future Max hadn't told her much, but she knew it was important to the four aliens she'd come to know so well.
The uneasy feeling still resided in her stomach, but it was more for Max's safety than anything. "Wait, um, Max, um, when—when you're at the summit, the granolith, ok?" At his confusion, she elaborated. "It's powerful and it could be really dangerous if the wrong people got their hands on it."
The words spilled from her mouth like dribble from a baby's bottle, and Liz realized that while she was only trying to help it would only make Max more curious as to how she knew. On cue, "What are you talking about? How do you know anything about the granolith?"
Liz steeled herself, realizing she'd made a mistake, but knew somewhere inside her it was essential she make Max believe her. For his safety. 'And Tess's,' she thought bitterly. "I can't tell you," Liz breathed out, biting back her words. "But I just—I know and—please, Max. You have to trust me."
Liz watched his confusion twitch to anger and his eyes glazed over with frustration. Liz almost winced at his change of character. Trust. One thing he held with Liz always, and she'd just sliced and diced that only over a week ago.
"I guess that's the problem, Liz." And with that, he got up, walking over to the edge of her balcony and making his way over by her sturdy ladder. Liz looked out her window long after he was gone.
~*~
~*~
Chapter Five
~*~
Liz woke to the low yet strangely soft sound of metal crashing against metal. She rubbed her eyes, finally finding that she was sleeping on the old couch in the backroom. She groaned, realizing she'd fallen asleep before the Crashdown had even opened. Her Dad must have called in Maria on her day off, as above the thump of the metal she could hear Maria patronizing Michael from inside the kitchen.
I can't remember anything
Can't tell if this is true or dream
Deep down inside I feel to scream
This terrible silence stops me
Now that the war is through with me
I'm waking up I can not see
That there is not much left of me
Nothing is real but pain now
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
Liz found herself swaying slightly to the sound. Though the words were depressing and deeply sad, the song was beautiful. She wasn't a fan of metal, but she could see why Michael had chosen the song. It was rare he ever did—as Maria had complete control of the radio in the backroom—but Liz was glad for the change of pace. She got up, yawning in the process, and walked to her locker to grab her order pad. She'd send Maria home and finish up her shift, however long that was.
Liz walked towards the kitchen and saw Michael furiously working the grill as Maria animatedly talked to him at the counter. Liz smiled, trying to forget her moment with Michael the night before. She loved Maria to death, but Liz could see why Michael wanted to keep his distance from her. While she was glamorous and looking for true love, he was low maintenance and wanted someone more down to earth. She couldn't help but think that she was—in fact—more of his type.
She shrugged the thought, thinking it absurd. "Maria," Liz said quietly behind Michael, and she noticed as he audibly stiffened.
Liz didn't blame him. She had rejected him—given him something and then taken it back. If she were in his place, she would have been just as angry. Then why had she done it? Maria looked towards her friend, finally realizing her presence.
"I'm sorry Dad had to call you in. I'm up now, so you can leave if you'd like." Maria blew a sigh of relief, as if this moment was her one of true happiness, and stuck her tongue out at Michael as he rolled his eyes.
"Thank you, Chica! You are my savior." Liz smiled and turned to walk back into the backroom as her friend made her way into it. Though she'd only heard bits and pieces of the conversation, she was sure Maria was bugging Michael about what he'd wanted to see Liz about the night before.
Back in the womb it's much too real
In pumps life that I must feel
But can't look forward to reveal
Look to the time when I'll live
Fed through the tube that sticks in me
Just like a wartime novelty
Tied to machines that make me be
Cut this life off from me
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
"I need to ask you a question," Maria told her as she undressed to get back into her regular clothes. Liz stopped at the door, knowing this would have come sooner or later. While Michael would ignore Maria's questions, Liz couldn't. They were best friends. They told each other everything. Or at least they used to.
"What's up?" Liz asked casually, turning around as her friend pulled her shirt over her head and finished dressing.
"What's up is I left you a couple of messages on your machine last night and you never returned them. I just wanted to know what happened last night." Liz sighed, watching Maria look at her curiously.
"Nothing happened," Liz confirmed for her friend. "He just wanted to ask me something about one of his classes." Liz almost winced. Bad lie. Maria would see right through it.
Maria looked her over for another moment, and then shrugged. "I will never understand him," she laughed softly to herself and then made her way past her friend. "I'll call you later, alright?"
Liz nodded her head, almost numbly, and then followed her friend out of the back room to finish the rest of her shift.
Hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God, wake me
Now the world is gone I'm just one
Oh God, help me hold my breath as I wish for death
Oh please God help me
~*~
Later that Sunday evening, Liz leaned against the pale green table that was lined with silver. She shook her head, shaking off the sudden headache that had invaded her mind. It's ache dulled, but Liz could still feel it pulsing. She shook her head, picking up the broom again and making a final swoosh before picking up the dustpan and pocketing its contents into the trash bin. She felt a prickle on her neck, a sensation that she wasn't alone.
Looking up, she saw Michael watching her critically from the door to the backroom. She sighed in relief, somehow fearing the worst. Somehow she'd forgotten that she and Michael were both closing up. While the other day she'd wished she didn't have to close up with Maria, tonight she wished it with an ever-growing ferocity. Michael made her forget herself—lose control. And that was not acceptable.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Liz shook her head as if in answer, and he took a step forward.
"Nothing." Liz assured him, taking the broom and walking behind the counter. Michael took a place in one of the seats, as if taunting her answer, and Liz busied herself by cleaning the counter. Maybe he would just leave. Maybe she was being ever too hopeful.
Liz turned, her back to him, and she prayed he'd leave. But then—as if creeping up behind her and breathing down her neck with presence—a part of her longed for him to devour her whole. It had been so long since she'd felt pleasure without worry. Had she tried to kiss Max, she was certain that would come with pain.
Her attraction to Michael—while still too strange to place—was growing with every ticking second. She could feel it as her body seemed to move, but her mind didn't. Liz turned, tripping on the dustpan she'd carelessly placed on the floor. She hissed, grabbing her ankle, and Michael swiftly made his way around to help her.
He helped her around the counter and into a seat at one of the tables. Liz sighed, the pain lifted from her foot. He pulled a seat up across from her, and coaxed her to lift her leg. "Let me see."
Liz looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the softness held deep in his eyes. She complied; her worry long forgotten of him touching her and she actually enjoying it. Maybe this was a test. A test to show her that there was nothing between them after all—that it was all some fluke that would disappear once his fingers healed her ankle.
Her ankle rested on his knee, and he carefully took her shoe off. Liz sighed once it was off, some of the pain relieved. He pushed her sock down a little, eliciting a groan from Liz, and mumbled a sorry. And then his fingertips made contact with her skin.
Liz gasped, and hoped he hadn't caught on to her obvious reaction to his mere touch. He rubbed his finger over the bruise already forming, and Liz closed her eyes. She sighed as she felt warmth heat her ankle; sending electric sparks of health throughout her body. And she'd thought Max's healing was euphoric.
Her lips pursed, and while her ankle was healed, she noticed his hand hadn't left it. Liz opened her eyes slowly, peaking to see what he was doing. His eyes were on her, for once soft and open. Liz wanted to study his eyes—to map them in her mind so she could find the true meaning behind them and all that they revealed—but he started speaking.
"We can't do this, Liz," Michael said hoarsely with resignation. His hand left her ankle, and she pulled it down. Her desire was now taboo, and she realized that this time Michael was the one to bring them back to reality. A reality where they weren't friends and sure as hell weren't together.
"I know." Liz said softly, her voice filled with sorrow. Since when had she been so utterly miserable in that she and Michael couldn't further continue their exploration of each other? She and Michael. She wanted to taste his name on her lips, but the effort to do so was too much to bear.
He obviously was feeling something for her too, but it wouldn't be right. While they were single, they still had attachments to attend to and roles to play. Liz sighed, getting up from the chair as Michael did. "We can still be friends." Liz assured him. Or maybe she was assuring herself.
He nodded gruffly, his eyes darting anywhere else but hers. Was this what awkward felt like? It felt more like misery. "Sure, Parker. Just don't expect me to tell you my deepest secrets or anything, alright?"
And with that he filed out of the Crashdown, the bell above the door clinging on his way out. Liz felt a small smile spread across her face at the irony of his statement. "Too late."
She finished closing up the Crashdown, in silence as before, and then headed up for bed.
~*~
Zan's eyes bore into that of Lonnie's, his sister and enemy. She was talking animatedly, her familiar eyes lost of any glitter of life or compassion. Her face was hard, emotionless in that it was without light. "Remember, Max. Lives hang in the balance. You gotta think of what you'll be puttin' them through if you refuse."
He sighed, getting up and trying to play the confused good-doer part. She sat in a wooden chair, Rath at the foot of the quilt covered bed and Tess and Ava standing inches apart by the door. Isabel was in the next room, knowing there was a meeting being held but she feigned apathy and Zan couldn't blame her.
Lonnie and Rath's act was tired, and if these smarts could tell, they were spitting out bullshit. Loads of it. "Max, I think you should consider what she's saying." Zan looked towards Tess quizzically, curious as to why she was so eager to go to New York when she had such a hard on for Max. Wouldn't she be at his beck and call? He shrugged off her proposition with a wave of his hand.
"It's too risky. I can't go across the country without knowing what I'm getting into," Zan stopped, facing off with Lonnie as she rose slowly from the chair. If her face could look more menacing, it did. She was livid. Zan bit back the urge to smirk with a smug glint in his eye that he was sure would reside once she made her exit. And before she left Roswell, he'd finish them all off. One by one.
Rath growled from where he was sitting, the perfect picture of frustration. Zan swirled his head around, staring him down until his gaze faltered with a shrug. "Your making a big mistake, ya hear?" Lonnie shot out, advancing closer to him. Zan's veins pulsed under his skin and his stance tightened as he got ready for what he was sure would be a fight that would ensue.
He hand quivered as he moved to raise it, but before any action could take place he heard a loud cough from the far right of him. He turned his head, lowering his arm, to stare agape at Max Evans who was standing in the doorway of his now open bathroom. In turn, everyone else present in the room stared open mouthed. The shit had hit the fan. And Zan had no idea how it was going to go down.
~*~
"Hi."
Though it was becoming a regular occurrence for Max to visit Liz's balcony, Liz had still found it just as surprising. He was kneeling on the other side of the window as she too kneeled inside her room. Her hand rested on the windowsill, unsure of what his intentions were this time. Liz tried to focus her eyes on the mahogany brown of the wood paneled around her window, faded from years of mis-care, but Max's eyes held much deeper thoughts. Sadness. Defeat. For once, there was no hope.
"You said you wanted to be friends, and I thought about it. And," Max paused to take a breath, "I realized that I can't be friends with you because I'm still hanging on," Max paused once again, as if his words were hard to muster. "To you. To what we had. So I decided to make a clean break."
Max fumbled something out of his navy blue jacket, and held it out for Liz to see. "Here." Liz looked down from her ex boyfriends face and saw a silver pocketknife with a small cursive inscribing. 'Max and Liz Forever.'
Liz felt the cool of the silver as it slipped into her hand, and she found her words. "Max, this is yours. I gave it to you last Christmas." She understood the meaning behind it, but it was hard to accept. All this time she'd been rejecting Max, and now it was his turn to reject her. By getting rid of all evidence that they'd had a close relationship. Liz gulped back the urge to cry out, and watched him as he gave her one of his mournful looks.
"I'm giving it back." Max replied without hesitation. "I'm—I'm going to New York with Rath, Lonnie, Zan and," Max paused once more, the next word difficult to slip from his lips. "And Tess. To the summit."
Liz realized another hidden meaning by giving it back. Tess. She was joining him in New York, which meant Liz was becoming successful in her task. It made her sick to her stomach. "Are you gonna come back?"
Max was surprised by her question, but answered it anyways. "I don't know. I can't think that far ahead." Liz gripped the pocketknife in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the inscription without notice.
She found it weird that while she'd recently required an attraction to Michael, nonetheless brought to life by Zan, she still had a lingering love for Max. While she'd hoped all her preaches to Max would be the ending result of the end of her love for him, she knew that was held in his hands. And he was finally giving back to her what she had given up so long ago.
Liz bit her lip, knowing that this moment between the two was a closure for the both. Or at least, for her, because she had no idea who Max was anymore. As Future Max had once said, 'This is a different world.'
Max turned to leave, a sign that the conversation had been severed. Through all her jumbled and confusing thoughts, Liz remembered the Granolith. Liz wasn't sure what it could do; since Future Max hadn't told her much, but she knew it was important to the four aliens she'd come to know so well.
The uneasy feeling still resided in her stomach, but it was more for Max's safety than anything. "Wait, um, Max, um, when—when you're at the summit, the granolith, ok?" At his confusion, she elaborated. "It's powerful and it could be really dangerous if the wrong people got their hands on it."
The words spilled from her mouth like dribble from a baby's bottle, and Liz realized that while she was only trying to help it would only make Max more curious as to how she knew. On cue, "What are you talking about? How do you know anything about the granolith?"
Liz steeled herself, realizing she'd made a mistake, but knew somewhere inside her it was essential she make Max believe her. For his safety. 'And Tess's,' she thought bitterly. "I can't tell you," Liz breathed out, biting back her words. "But I just—I know and—please, Max. You have to trust me."
Liz watched his confusion twitch to anger and his eyes glazed over with frustration. Liz almost winced at his change of character. Trust. One thing he held with Liz always, and she'd just sliced and diced that only over a week ago.
"I guess that's the problem, Liz." And with that, he got up, walking over to the edge of her balcony and making his way over by her sturdy ladder. Liz looked out her window long after he was gone.
~*~