Their Language [Max/Liz] {Teen} Complete

[Gater101]

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Unfortunately.

Okay, so, this is set Season 3, after they have been skating... is just a bit of fluff. Um, originally written as a small E.R. fic but hey, it's almost Christmas and this is nice and wintery. Companion to "Most Eloquent Silence".

A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature
to stop speech when words become superfluous.

He watched her. He watched the way her mouth opened and closed in speech, the way her eyes glinted in the passing streetlamps, the way she moved her hands in front of her body to emphasize her point.

He had long ceased listening to the words playing beautifully from her mouth, instead tuning into the fluidity of her words, her accent, the way she paused mid-sentence to catch a breath. Her skin was serenely pale, the winter pinching her cheeks with a red-ish hue. Her lips, full and red and soft, moved, forming letters and words he no longer heard.

The scarf wound around her neck acted as a barricade, keeping winters’ fingers from prying into her, chilling her. Her long thick overcoat masked the womanly beauty that he knew she exuded. Her petite legs carried her frame across the glinting snow covered ground with perfection. Under her light feet, the thick white snow barely crunched, that still falling catching in the long strands that peeked out underneath her black hat, melting in her warmth.

A gust caught onto their bodies, forcing their clothes back, molding them to their bodies. Her gasp was faint and temporary, as she continued talking. He watched as her dainty, gloved hand reached up to wipe away plump flakes of snow from her eyelids, her words dulling, muffled against the leather barrier of her hand.

He wanted to reach out and pull the hand away, to allow her perfect voice to flow freely once again but he didn’t.

She was beautiful.

“…and then she said to me, ‘Liz, what’s going on?’ and I said ‘Well, it’th mmphi…”

He couldn’t understand why her words were muffed once again but when he felt her warm, tepid tongue against his, melting away all of her words, he understood: it was he who had caused her muffled words but he didn’t care.

He didn’t need to hear her words. He needed to feel her, to know that she was real. And as her hand wound its way around his neck and tangled in the hairs there, pulling him further down to her he realised that they didn’t need words.

This was their language.