Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

45. Happy Birthday Max

Max's apartment
July 2nd, one day before Max's birthday

(2009) Max is 23 (going on 24), Liz is 23

Max stopped shortly inside the door, unused keys dangling from his hand completely forgotten as his jaw became slack and his eyes scanned the dark apartment.

From the unlocked door, he already knew that Liz was here, but the mixture of darkness and occasional candles flickering around the room had anticipation fluttering in his chest. It was not unusual for Liz to spend her nights at his place, more than willing to avoid the tension between her and her brother at their apartment, but the darkness was anything but usual.

"Lizzie?" he asked, wincing as his voice echoed too loudly in the quiet room.

He frowned as he put the keys on the kitchen counter. What was she up to?

"Parker? You're here?"

Instinctively knowing where to go, he pushed the bedroom door open and poked his head inside. The warm yellow hue of burning candles swam before his vision again and he had to squint to make out her quiet shape in the semi-darkness.

She was on the bed, her body pulled together in one of his football sweaters that had the ability to drown her tiny shape. Her head resting against her pulled up knees she looked up at him with tears hanging off her dark eyelashes. The tears on her cheeks threw a reflection towards him in the humble lightning and his heart skipped a beat.

His gym bag slid off his shoulder to the floor by its own force and Max was crawling across the expanse of the bed towards Liz before she had the chance to take her next breath.

Red eyes blinked closed as he put his hand against her wet cheek, concerned fingers trailing down the flushed skin.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, concern fluttering against each syllable.

"It's just..." Liz mumbled and then shook her head. "It's nothing."

His expression sharpened further with concern. "Why are you crying?"

She shook her head, her closed eyes avoiding his concern which would only make her start to cry again. After one hour of crying, she had almost managed to establish a state of control. She was not going to let this ruin the night. She'd had plans for tonight.

His hands pushed her hair away, his thumbs brushing along her hairline and edging her head backwards, forcing her to look up at him. "Did something happen today?"

Pushing his hands away, causing him to rest back on his heels, Liz brushed the tears off her cheeks and looked up at him with an overly optimistic expression that only served to further dig the worry into Max's heart.

"I'm fine. I just had a breakdown or something. I just needed to let it out. And I've done that now. I'm fine."

Max took one long look at her, noticed the pain and unspoken sorrow in her eyes, before easing her into his lap. Her thighs encased his as her soft body folded itself against his. Curling up against his chest, she inhaled deeply, letting his arms envelope her and immerse her in safety.

"I know that you love your brother," Max said softly against her ear, his voice edged with possessiveness, "but if something he said made you feel this way, I'm gonna-"

Before he could work himself into an angry knot, Liz interrupted, "It's not Michael."

He relaxed, relieved that he didn't have to put himself between Liz and Michael again, but confusion at what had happened itched the edges of his mind.

Before he could open his mouth to utter his next question, Liz pulled away, angrily brushing her face free of tears. "You know what? I'm not gonna let her win. She's not gonna destroy this for me."