Disclaimer: Um, poor college student, right here. I own nothing, not even
the words. Those belong to Webster.
Summary: Maria's viewpoint of her love/hate relationship with Michael.
Category: Michael/Maria
Rating: R
Author's Note: Ok, i just wrote this without M/M in mind, but after i wrote
it, i thought it fit them, so here it is. I would say this is indubitably
before this season, probably around the middle/end of season one.
|
The masochistic wonder of it all, living in a sad, sane world where the game
of pretend is a competition. What mask shall I wear today? My favorite, of
course, the one that is the truth, but not. I fuck you over without your
permission, and that what makes it so much fun, seeing the surprise on your
face as you realize who I really am. I laugh as we do our little dance of
who screws who. You push and I push back, we are at a crossroads, move
forward together or a duel to the death. Frankly, the latter suits us
better. The gloves are off now, words form our swords. I laugh again at
the sheer volume of your anger. Finally, an emotion from
he-who-does-not-feel, and it is directed towards me. At the biting sound,
you falter, and I make my move. Your back on the ground, my knee at your
throat, I lean closer. So close, our lips brush in the oldest dance of all
time. Oh, how I love our foreplay. |