Fang's POV:
The liquid diluted my senses. It erased my pain, dealing with Max. I felt numb, safer, with it in me. It calmed me, making my brain work easier. At least that was what I told myself. That was my excuse.
Instead, I could feel my immune system slowly deteriorating. I could feel my brain start to malfunction. I felt dizzy, like I was about to pass out, and already I knew my sense of judgment and restraint was fleeting me.
Max had left a few minutes ago. She'd run out of the room slamming the door and raced down the hall. I think she went to the beach. Probably to think. It was dangerous when she was thinking.
I stood up quickly and almost fell down again with the sudden head rush. I let go of the beer bottle and it plummeted to the floor, breaking with a crash muffled by the carpet.
"Be right back," I mumbled, grabbing hold of my head with my left hand; with my right I opened the door and let it swing closed behind me. The window at the end of the hallway was large and mostly open. I jumped out of it and snapped my wings open, my heart soaring with the rush of the air, like needles darting against me as I raced against the wind.
My landing was, to be honest, very clumsy. I stood up quickly and brushed off the dirt, keeping my emotionless mask on to hide my relatively blatant distress.
I crept silently over to where Max was sitting. "Yo," I said only loud enough for her to hear.
Her head snapped up in just a sliver of moonlight; it caught me off guard. My breath almost caught in my throat as I saw her. I loved her so much. The way she could still be strong even after everything we'd been through, how she was a great fighter and a mother, I even loved her stubbornness.
"Why'd you follow me?" she asked, trying to keep in control of her voice. Anyone else would have believed it. But not me. Because I'm special.
"'Cause you're prettyyyy," I slurred. It fit. She was pretty. She was beautiful. I wanted so bad to kiss her right then.
I shuffled up to her. "I loooveeee youuu," I told her, smiling crookedly. I did love her. Soooooo much. Of its own accord my hand reached up and stroked longingly across her face. She shivered slightly and tried to step back. I noticed how her back was against a shed wall.
"Fang, what the heck are you doing?" she asked exasperatedly.
"I love you thisssss much," I said. I spread my arms wide to indicate how much I really loved her. I hope she got it. I needed her to get it. She needed to understand.
"What the hell, Fang? Did you just get drunk?!" Her face was angry now. She was angry at me. I wondered why.
I put my arms up against the side of the house, keeping her in between them. She couldn't run away from me now. She started looking for an escape all the same, though. The rejection hurt. "Don't you want me?" I asked her. My eyes bore into her fearful ones. The thought struck me as comical. She was afraid. She was frightened of me.
"Get away from me, Fang, you're scaring me," she whispered; she was too scared now to say anything louder. I almost chuckled. It was enlightening seeing Max so pathetic. She wasn't as good as she'd always fooled us into thinking. Maybe I did love her, maybe I didn't. But either way, I wanted her tonight.
"No," I said, exhaling my breath slowly. Some of it must have landed within her smelling range because she flinched. Maybe my drink didn't smell so good to her.
I felt such a need to touch her, grab onto her right then. One of my hands dropped to her hip, slowly working its way up her torso, over her chest, up to her neck.
She shivered with my touch. "Fang, stop it!" she begged me.
But her voice was only a slight annoyance. It didn't have anything to do with what was going on in my mind. The sound was just a little train whistle in the city; it didn't change the hustle and bustle, it just added to it.
My knee dug into her thigh, holding her in place. I couldn't take the chance of her getting away. Not this time. It just hurt too much. The hand that was not currently caressing Max held her arms in place. She wouldn't be able to fight me off this way.
"Fang, don't!" she cried. I could hear the plea in her voice. It pleased me. It made me happy to know she was petrified of me.
I brought my lips down onto hers. They tasted like raspberries. They were sweet. I wanted more of them. She was struggling underneath me, but it felt more like she was kissing me back. I poked my tongue through and brought it over her teeth. She tried to force me out, but it wasn't doing her any good. As my face was closer to hers, I hit wet spots. They were tears. She was crying.
I ran my hands over her; desperately trying to bring her closer. All I wanted was her. Just her. Nothing else mattered now.
I never looked at her face. I didn't need to. I know what it would say. If I looked at her face, I would stop. I didn't want to stop. I wanted her.
It took a little, but finally I had her. She had struggled, but I had her.
A whimper escaped her lips; a sound of true pain.
I saw blood running down her bare legs.
The realization of what I had done hit me. I struggled to maintain my mask. I couldn't. I ran away from the scene of the crime, I ran and flew, my wings lifting me into the air and taking me far away.
I woke up screaming her name. Tears were pouring down my face. I pulled my knees to my chest and huddled into myself. I couldn't live with this. Every night, the same nightmare for two years. Every night. Oh, God, Max, what have I done?
Fang thought of a part of a book he'd seen Nudge reading once. It was called the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and there was this one part where some Bridget girl was thinking about some guy named Eric. "She would have given anything for him to want her again. But she would have given even more for him to trust her." Fang thought it really applied here. But he didn't care so much about the wanting him part. He would do anything for Max to trust him. What have I done?