| "After"
"Best Shot" |
| Part 5 by Diana |
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Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters. No
infringement intended. Summary: "Best Shot" Another Destiny Tag… Maria’s Point of view Category: Other Rating: PG-13 Authors Note: This is my interpretation of what the characters were going through a few days/ weeks after ‘Destiny’… Feedback is always appreciated... Thanks to everyone who's sent me feedback on my other stories :-D |
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| You love me. You want to be with me. You will come back to me in the end. I know that, you know that. So come on, take your best shot at me, Michael. I can take it. You should have heard the way my mom was complaining after her date with Arnie the mechanic. She kept screaming something about all red-headed-greasy- bellied-freckle-faced men being dogs and all DeLuca women being cursed. I thought, ‘Oh great. Mom has officially lost it. Note to self: Look into psychiatric services at Roswell Memorial ASAP.’ But now that I think about it, what she said is starting to make some sense. My grandpa died when my grandma was carrying my mother. My dad left my mom and me when I was just a kid. And now I’ve got Michael. Lucky me. I love him. He’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. He’s rude, he’s possessive, he’s obsessive, he’s demanding, and he really needs to do something about that fashion sense of his. I love everything about him. Even the hair. He’s going to try to push me away again. He’s going to be as mean and nasty to me as he can possibly be, just to get me to stay away. He’s going to hurt me again. He always does. I think I’ve actually accepted that. Maybe I need to think about checking myself into Roswell Memorial. He told me that he loved me and then left me. That’s typical Michael for you. Always running. I guess I should be used to it. And I guess this time he actually has a valid reason for acting that way. He’s gotta be confused. I know I am. I think that I don’t hate Isabel. She didn’t ask for this. I’m not saying that I’m happy about it. I mean, this tall, curvy, gorgeous girl that half the guys in school would chew their right arm off to get with just happens to be destine to be with Michael. My obnoxious, infuriating, wonderful Michael. I was pissed off after Liz told me about that mommy-hologram-destiny thing. I cried about it a couple of times. I yelled about it the rest of the time. Then one day I said to myself Calm down, ‘DeLuca. Remember, this is Michael we’re talking about here.’ See, I know him, whether he wants to believe that or not. Every once in a while he needs to run. I didn’t understand that before and I still don’t know why he has to do it, but he does. He always comes back. He never apologizes, he never explains himself. I always take him back. I’m not saying that I like it. But that’s the way it is. I get what I want and he gets what he wants, whether he wants to admit that I’m what he wants or not. We’re not soul mates or anything. We’re not destine to be together forever. We’re not Max and Liz and I’m not Isabel in any way, shape, or form. But I think that we’ve got a good chance at making each other happy. I just hope he wants to take the chance. I know he loves me. I just have to keep reminding myself of that. I love him. He uses me, he hurts me, and then he throws me away. He comes back to me. He loves me, he makes me happy, and he makes it up to me. I take him back. That’s my curse. And it’s his, too. You honestly think I’d leave you alone? Forget it, buddy. We both know that’s not gonna happen. Hurt me, leave me. Do whatever you want. We both know how it’s gonna turn out in the end. So, go on, Michael. Fire away. |
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