|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.
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.
|Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours