This is a one-shot idea I got from the coming apocalypse of snow my area is going to get very soon. They are literally calling it "Snow-magaden". So if you think "HEY! She's going to update!" don't. Big storm=no power.
WARNING: Slight OOC on Fang's part.
Enjoy!
I own... you know the rest. Nothing.
5:02 PM
He wasn't back yet.
It had been, what, an hour?, and he wasn't back yet.
Worry crept through me, but I tried not to let it show. Fang could take care of himself.
But there was still a little voice in my head, not The Voice, but a smaller, minute one. One that told me it should only take half an hour at most to go into town and get food. One that nagged about this not being right. One that pleaded me to go look for him.
The safe-house in Canada seemed empty without him. But seriously, Canada? Who's idea was this?
"And the snow, which started about forty-five minutes ago, will probably continue on into the night..." I could here the weather-man rambling on about, no surprise, the weather.
"M-Max?" I hear the scared call come from in front of the TV.
"Yes, Angel."
She sniffs. "I'm scared."
If not for my avian hearing, I wouldn't have even noticed her talking. I almost wish I hadn't.
But I did, so I put on a brave and smile. "There's nothing to fear. It's just a little snow," I lie through my teeth. A little snow would be about an inch. We were getting a foot at the minimum.
5:48 PM
The worry wasn't going away.
I tried to hide it, but certain people could see the way I fidgeted and glanced around.
Dr. Martinez tries to take my mind off things. "How about we make cookies?"
The kids brighten up, but my mood stays sour. I sigh, but walk into the kitchen anyways.
6:36 PM
I couldn't choke the cookies down.
The usual warm sweetness tastes like rocks in my mouth. I can't stop thinking about Fang.
"Please, Fang, please. Come home," I whisper into the air.
8:15 PM
The anxious nervousness gets worse as the hour gets later.
I can't sit still much longer.
I tap my fingers, jiggle my legs, kick my feet, bite my lip.
The night goes on.
9:42 PM
"I can't stand it!" I finally scream.
Six heads snap up and look at me. Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Angel, Dr. Martinez, and Ella, all startled at my outburst.
"Do what you need to do," Dr. Martinez, my mother, my only feeling of sanity, advises.
I'm out the door before she's finished the sentence.
10:23 PM
I fly through the night, wind whipping my hair back. My wings feel heavy, frozen over and exhausted.
The snow practically blinds me. I don't know if I'm going north or south, west or east, or if I'm even going anywhere.
"Damn snow. Damn wind. Damn ice. Damn Fang, getting lost. Damn, damn, damn it all." I mutter on and on.
My breath comes in short, ragged gasps, my body buffeted by blasts of air coming in all directions.
Still I fly on.
And on.
And on.
11:11 PM
The cold is like a pair of Eraser jaws. It grips onto you and won't let go, no matter how much you struggle.
And eventually, it kills you.
I don't give up easily; I'm Maximum Ride.
But nature is so freaking strong.
My chest heaves and lungs splutter, racked with coughs.
Before I know what's going on, the ground is spiraling up to meet me. The collected ice and snow hits me head on.
I groan and move onto my back, staring up at the snow falling down around me.
"Max? Is that you, or am I dreaming?"
His familiar voice sends chills through me, and I shudder. Not from sheer freezing temperatures or coughs or ice, but good shivers.
I roll over, and sure enough, I'm face to face with him.
"Fang, you ass-hole!" I start to yell, but that's all I get out. His hands grip my face, and strong lips meet my own.
He kisses me almost hungrily. Startled, I begin to go into flight mode. Then I find myself kissing back.
Arms wrap around my shoulders, hands rub my back.
"I'm so cold... will you heat me up?" He whispers seductively.
"Whatever you say." I push myself closer, our bodies touching. Everywhere his finger go, they leave hot marks, like his hands are made of fire.
We grip each other harder. My hands on his face, his hands exploring my back.
"Fang..." I groan. It seems to only encourage him. Our mouths move in sync, as if made for each other. His tongue touches mine, and I'm moaning again.
How it happened, I don't know, but soon I'm on top of him, and his hands move lower. For once, I don't mind.
Though it's probably below zero degrees, it's about one hundred in our embrace. Fang's palms grind into my butt.
After a few more minutes, or maybe an hour, I hear a voice. Enjoying yourself?
Shocked, I leap up and prepare to fight. Then I realize no one is around.
"Angel..." I say out loud.
Fang gives me a quizzical look, and I put a finger up to silence him. But she says no more.
He gives a soft chuckle, and pushes himself up. "I suppose it's time to go home."
I pout, but agree. With his arm around me, we start walking, wings too cold to work.
"You should get lost more often," I whisper into his ear.
"Only if you find me."
And that's a wrap! I hope you liked it. I also hope it wasn't boring. Which it probably was.
Please, review! I feed off of them! Okay, maybe not. But I still love them.
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