Unbreakable - A Beautiful Lie · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

FORTY-NINE

Anxiety woke me up with a start and it took me a couple of seconds before I could get my head around where I was. And why I was sleeping naked.

Something I never did.

But the memories of before quickly came to me, indirectly heating my body up, and with a soft groan I reached out behind me, expecting to find Max there. But my hand only met the still warm surface of the bed sheet.

In that same second I heard his hushed voice from the hallway, stating, "She's awake."

I looked to the dim light shining in through the bedroom door left ajar as I slowly sat up, pulling on the blanket to protect my nudity against the chilly air.

"No," Max's hushed voice continued and I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand while yawning.

The anguish was still throbbing through me, almost inseparable from the feeling of fear, as I tried to get my confused and tired mind to operate.

"We'll talk about this later," Max said. "I need to go back to her."

My eyelids were heavy as I just sat there, trying to familiarize myself with my body. I felt different; relaxed and loose. Like someone had massaged every tired muscle and stretched out every joint, making me boneless. And I felt sore. Exquisitely so.

I blinked against the light as he pushed the door open and slowly walked into the room. My eyes traced down his magnificent shape, noting that he was wearing his boxers, but nothing else. I unconsciously licked my lips.

As his eyes connected with mine, I realized where the mix of anxiety and fear was coming from.

Him.

I swallowed, feeling my cozy and comfortable half-slumber mood evaporating. He stopped next to the bed, resting the weight of his upper body on his hands as he leaned forward over the bed, bringing his face close to mine.

He offered me a soft smile and gently brushed my lips. "Hey."

"Hey," I returned, itching to put my hands on his bare arms, but feeling shy all of the sudden.

There was warm concern in his eyes as he mumbled, "Did I wake you?"

"Your feelings did," I confirmed, my concern matching his and I brought my hand up to his cheek. But my fingers curled hesitantly against his skin, while I searched the connection, quickly realizing that he was partly blocking me. I couldn't read his thoughts, eavesdrop on what was making him uncomfortable.

After everything that we had shared. After everything that had been said, thought and felt between us, I respected that there must be a very good reason why he would be hiding something from me right now. So I was going to trust him and let it go. For now.

He was most likely listening to my reasoning, since my mind was still open to his. Which was confirmed by the flash of relief and gratitude in his eyes which I smoothed over by asking, "What time is it?"

He covered my hand against his cheek with his and squeezed gently. "A little after midnight."

Not later?

"Who were you talking to?" I asked, briefly wondering if I was unintentionally breaching what he didn't want to talk about.

But his tone was light as he answered, "My sister."

I squeezed my lips together in sudden self-awareness and dropped my eyes. Max reached out and tugged the blanket I was covering myself with out of my hands, softly challenging my insecurities, "You haven't forgotten that Isabel was the instigator of all of this, have you? She knows very well what we've been up to."