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Because I'm Supposed to Hate Her

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Added to the Roswell Slash Archive April 10, 2001

Title: Because I'm Supposed to Hate Her
Author: Erin
Disclaimer: Don't own Roswell, the characters, or anything affiliated with them.
Category: Liz/Tess
Summary: Liz and Tess start to understand the way they feel about each other, even if they're not ready to admit it.
Rating: PG
Feedback: Sure, why not.



        I'm unsure what to think of Tess Harding. She came to Roswell as my enemy, and she should stay that way-at least, that's what is supposed to happen. She came between me and my love. This intense love I have for Max was destroyed the day she came and spread her little "destiny" philosophy crap. How dare she expect max to just drop me for her-this complete stranger who I admit, I was scared of. As far as I was concerned she could take that Destiny book and stick it up her ass. But, that was months ago...

        Over time, I was the one who dropped Max. Not because I stopped loving him, but because I did love him. Whether I liked it or not, Tess was going to be a part of his life, and mine as well. Max doesn't really understand her, and in a way I envy that. I can't bewilder him the way she can. I will never be a mystery to Max-he sees right through me. But she will always be a mystery, which makes her all the more captivating.

        I watch her sometimes when she comes into the Crashdown. It has become an involuntary action. It's as if I'm doing observations for an experiment. I watch the way she sits in her booth, the way she looks so alone when she eats by herself, and I notice she doesn't appear much different even if she's with the rest of the group. Because they were my group first, and I think she knows that.

        Does she feel me staring at her? Does she sense me realizing that she has such a quiet intimidation about her? Yet her eyes, her skin, her smile-how angelic she appears. Those crystal blue eyes...I think they must have the ability to burn right through me. I like that.

        Max sees me looking at her sometimes. I wonder what he thinks. He probably assumes that I'm overcome with anger and rage towards her. That's just not true anymore. And one time I think the three of us realized it. We were all sitting together at a table in the Crashdown, and I couldn't stop watching Tess. I wanted to know her every moment; I wanted to see what made her beautiful to me. Max caught me gazing at her; I looked back at him with guilty defiance. And then Tess looked at the both of us, and for a moment, only for a moment, I thought that the two of them understood what was happening: my hate for her had become sympathy, my fear of her had become fascination. But I'll never admit it to anyone, because I'm supposed to hate her.

        Liz Parker. Wow.

        I have to say I've never seen someone so selfless, so in control, yet so very damaged. Since that last April when I realized that she was the one standing in the way of my destiny with Max, I've been determined to hate her. And I did for awhile; her doe eyes and sickeningly sweet voice had Max so wrapped up that I'm surprised he even knew how to breathe without her standing right beside him. This was trouble for me-his love for her had ruined what I was to be, what our purpose was.

        But then she left for the summer and she had left him, and so it wasn't so necessary to hate her anymore. I didn't want to.

        She was smart enough to realize that I was the one meant to be with Max, it was something uncontrollable by any of us. Something bigger than any of us had willed it so. Regardless, I knew I'd never have him the way she did, even if they're apart. It was useless to fight it. So I moved on, and I just hope for the best for Max and I-that he can at least treat me well, like a human. And then something happened, I realized that Liz was the one who was trying to understand me.

        I was shocked.

        I was amazed.

        I was so happy.

        So happy because I now understood that all those heavy gazes she cast towards me were out of thrill and fascination, not hate and disgust. When I walked into a room I could sense her looking me up and down. And occasionally I met her eyes with my own-and this moment of intrigue and even attraction filled the awkward silence between us. So now I'm more confused than ever. My enemy has now consumed my thoughts-and these thoughts are not angry. Strangely, I feel more safe-more like I belong, when I'm around her, than I do with Max or Michael or Isabel. But I can't ever admit that, because I'm supposed to hate her.

        END

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