Title: Always and Forever
Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.
Summary: This is the third in the series. Liz and Max are now engaged to be married and the wedding is being planned for the summer after Graduation. But before they can get married and begin their life together, Liz has to spent one final year at Harvard, while Max is studying at home in New Mexico. You may want to read You Can Always Count On Me and I'll Be There first, although you can probably still understand the story if you haven't read them.
Author's Note: This installment will be a little different in structure from the other two stories in that it will show both Liz and Max's POV's (usually one POV per part). The story begins with the wedding (present day), but will chiefly cover their senior year of college up to the wedding. However, these parts will be interspersed with 'Interludes' of sorts showing present day glimpses of Max and Liz's married life.
Present day – July 2006
"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Max's lips begin to descend towards mine and as I tilt my head up to meet him halfway, I realise something with amazing clarity.
This is absolutely, without a doubt, the best day of my life. I've never been happier than in this exact moment.
I've just married the love of my life, a man I've waited so long to be with, and now, finally, all my dreams are coming true.
"I love you," Max whispers a second before his soft lips meet mine. The taste of his kiss and the warmth of his hand, which has now lifted up to cup my cheek, send shivers down my spine and I feel a tingling sensation spreading along my arms to my fingers and all the way down to the tips of my toes.
God, I could just kiss him like this forever.
Unfortunately, the sound of Michael clearing his throat behind Max reminds us that we are in fact in a church and are currently being watched by our families, more than one hundred guests and the vicar. Not forgetting of course, the bridal party, consisting of Michael and Maria, and Alex and Isabel, just behind us.
Reluctantly, we break apart, my lips longing for his again almost immediately.
"I love you, too," I whisper back, before pulling away. I can feel the sting of joyous tears forming in the corner of my eyes and I blink quickly to force them away. I can't cry now, everyone's watching and I don't want to end up with panda eyes for the wedding photos.
Max takes my hand and grins at me quickly before we turn to face the congregation to walk back up the aisle together as husband and wife. We walk past our friends and family, who are all clapping and cheering for us. My gaze first falls on Becca and Jack and then on Tim and Kelly who are sitting just behind them. They all have happy grins on their faces and I swear I see tears in Becca's eyes. On Max's side, I can see his roommates John, Mark and Pete, along with Alexandra, all clapping enthusiastically (well, the guys are, anyway).
And I can't keep the ecstatic smile off my face.
Max Evans is my husband.
The reception is a beautiful affair. The decorators that Diane Evans found have done a wonderful job and Mario's, Roswell's finest catering company, has provided the most gorgeous food I have ever tasted.
All through the evening, I feel like I'm walking on air.
Michael and Maria's best man and maid of honour speeches are brilliant and so heartfelt that I actually burst into tears, despite the fact that I swore I wouldn't.
I've lost count of the number of songs that Max and I have danced to tonight, the only thing my brain can register right now is the fact that Max's warm, strong arms are wrapped around me, holding my body close. His left hand is sending electrifying tingles up and down my spine as he lovingly caresses my back, his fingers gently skimming over the silky satin of my wedding dress.
About four songs ago, I decided to throw tradition and formality out of the window and I slide my hands up over Max's chest and broad shoulders to enfold them around his neck, resting my head against his shoulder.
So here we are swaying dreamily to the music (well I am anyway. I'm not sure Max would refer to it as dreamy). My eyes drift closed and I get lost in the music; it's one of my favourite songs, Sheryl Crow's I Shall Believe. When I was a kid, I would listen to it for hours on end, dreaming about falling in love and marrying the most wonderful man.
And now I've found him.
It's my wedding night, the only one I will ever have, and it's just perfect.
Obviously, it is not our first time making love to each other, but tonight isthe most wonderful experience I've ever had – it is the first time we've made love as husband and wife.
Max has been, is being, so loving and attentive with me that he's making me light-headed and dizzy. My insides are all warm and fuzzy and all I can manage are small, breathy moans and whispers of 'I love you' over and over again.
He took his time undressing me earlier, peeling off my dress, inch by agonising inch and he wouldn't let me undress him or even touch him until he'd finished. When he'd divested me of my white silk dress, he spent long minutes touching and admiring and caressing me, and simply driving me wild with desire. Then finally, when I couldn't stand it any longer, he allowed me to free him of his gorgeous black tuxedo and have my wicked way with him.
And then I was the one taking my time. I placed sweet, tender kisses first on his lips, then lower to his jaw, his neck and his solid chest. I caressed and nibbled every inch of bare skin I could, until he was whimpering and pleading for release.
When we finally came together for the first time tonight, it was just…there are no words to describe it. I've never felt like that before in my entire life. I was surrounded by so much love, and tenderness and passion that I couldn't think straight.
Now, right at this moment, Max is planting open-mouthed kisses all over my body. He started at my toes and has made his way slowly and intently up over my legs, my hips, my stomach, my chest and now my neck.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me, leaning down to capture his lips with mine once again as I prepare myself for yet another intense, passionate round of wedding-night lovemaking.
I am so happy, so content with my life right now.
I'm standing alone on the balcony of the honeymoon suite, admiring the gorgeous view of the ocean and the bright blue, cloudless sky. My husband of fourteen days is, at this moment, frantically checking through our luggage, trying to figure out if we've forgotten anything.
I smile at the thought. I've always known that Max is totally anal about organisation and packing, but somehow it's as if I'm noticing it even more now. It usually annoys me how particular he is; but I must really still be in the honeymoon phase because right now, I'm actually finding it sexy.
I let out a long, contented sigh as I feel his strong arms come around me from behind.
"Hey," he whispers so as not to disturb the peaceful calm that has settled over the balcony.
He rests his chin on my shoulder and I tilt my head slightly to accommodate him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he says.
I smile. I can't help it. "Yeah, it is," I agree. "Are we all packed and ready?" I ask.
I feel him grin against my neck; he knows I've noticed his packing obsession. "Yeah, just about," he tells me. But then the grin disappears. "Liz, let's not go back. Let's just stay here together forever."
I sigh again. "I'd love to, Max. I'd love to spend all my time here with you in this hotel room, but we have lives to get back to, remember?" I remind him. "And just think, Max, we're going home; to our home. We have our whole lives ahead of us and we'll be spending them together."
Before I can comprehend what's happening, he's spinning me around and my face comes into contact with his hard chest.
"Wha –?" I try to question but he cuts me off.
"Don't," he tells me, just before he captures my lips in a sweet kiss full of promise and love.
It turns passionate rather quickly and I open my mouth slightly to allow his tongue to caress mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registers that we can't get carried away here. We have a plane to catch, but Max's kisses are making me weak in the knees and I can't concentrate. Luckily, the shrill ring of the hotel room phone interrupts us a few minutes later. It's the front desk; our car is downstairs and waiting to take us to the airport.
"Shit!" I exclaim and grab our bags from the bed. I look back at Max who is leaning against the wall, watching me. "Max, come on! We have to go," I tell him impatiently. But he just continues to stare at me.
"What?" I question self-consciously.
He just smiles, his eyes warm and inviting. "What you said just now, about going back to our home, I guess it just hit me, you know. You're my wife and I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I'll get to wake up next to you every morning and go to bed with you every night," he sounds awed and my eyes begin to well up. "I've wanted this for so long, Liz and now it's really happening. I just can't believe it."
I drop the bags and walk over to him. Taking his hands in mine, I tell him, "Believe it, Max. I'm not going anywhere; I'm yours. Forever."
He smiles at me, "And I'm yours, Liz. Forever."
Hand-in-hand, we pick up our luggage once again and make our way out of the hotel, determined to be as happy as we possibly can, for as long as we possibly can.