The Return of Zim

Part Six

The Return of Zim

Part Six

(Zim's POV)

While I was elated to spend some time with Devon, I was also some what scared. I shouldn't have kissed him, I know that, but... What else was I supposed to do? Gir is stubborn, and he wouldn't have let go if I hadn't. But... Then it turned into something so much more than a kiss. My whole body tingled, and my antennae trembled. My heart beat harder and faster than it had even when running from the growing inferno of my home planet. And I knew, that even if it was wrong...

...It was oh, so right.

Even now, as I think about it, I can feel his lips- they felt just as I had thought, soft yet firm; creamy and rough; a wonderful paradox of feelings -pressed against mine with a fevor matched only by my need to be closer. Yet, alas, all good things have to come to an end, and ours not only ended, it shattered.

That week was the hardest of my life. All I wanted to do was grab his collar and kiss him again, and again, and again... But I knew this would not accomplish anything, so I kept my traitorous thoughts and feelings to myself.

When he asked me to go shopping with him, I secretly wished he didn't ask, that he had demanded, and swept me away for another Kiss... But, as I soon found out, the Universe owed me no favors. We actually did go to the store, a 3/4 mile walk from his apartments.

I had had a bad feeling every since stepping outside. My antennae were shifting restlessly under my wigs, and my stomach churned. At first, I thought it was the fact that I was with him, but it turned out to be something worse. Something Very Very much worse.

Because there, against the window panes, were fat, heavy raindrops.

"D-Devon..?" Tapping on his shoulder, I realize that the feeling in my gut was not excitement, but rather my body responding to an upcoming low-pressure system.

"Shit..." He whispers, and grabs the bags. He may have said more, but I wouldn't know. The next thing I do know is that his coat is over my head, and we're running from the store. Immediately, the rain scorches my skin, and I can barely breath. He turns back and grabs my back, pushing me along. I freeze..

The last time he had touched me, I was pressed against the wall.

My heart pounds, and I suddenly realize that I'm breathing heavier, because that touch means everything to me, and nothing to him. And that hurts more than any amount of searing skin. I'm lifted from the ground, and I struggle, pushing him away. I land in a puddle, but I could care less.

My mouth moves, but I honestly cant comprehend the words. Its like my mouth is talking without my brains permission. Then, he's holding me again, carrying me to the apartments. I cant hold back; I snuggle closer to his body, taking comfort in the though, If I die, at least it will be with him...

Then, suddenly, we're thrown into light and dryness, and he sets me down, pushing me through the lobby and into his apartment. My brain, moving sluggishly, barely understands the words "towels" and "dry" before I am thrust into the bathroom. There, I stare at myself in the mirror, and I'm still staring when he comes in with clothes and two towels, setting them there for me. Staring...

My makeup is smeared, and the green of my natural skin is showing. I suddenly hate the green skin that I never used to cover. I'm ashamed of it. I loathe it, because I know that if  my skin were the creamy perfection of a human's, Devon and I could have kissed all we wanted. But we cant, because I'm not human. I'll never be human. And that means that I can never have Devon.

After 10 minutes of staring in the mirror, hating what is hidden beneath my makeup and wig, (which is sopping wet) Devon knocks on the door again. Not waiting for me to reply, he steps in, still wet and his face blotchy, his eyes bloodshot from crying.

Crying for what?

"Zim? Why haven't you changed?" His eyes, more blue than brown, though there is still some caramel glints, soften into light blue, but not the icy blue of their originality. I take a deep breath and, meeting his eyes in the mirror, I whisper;

"It wont change anything." His face turns a little confused, then understanding lights his features. He begins to say something, but I don't give him the chance. "It's true. It wont change a damn thing, because I'll always be like this. It's like... Like..." I pause, grasping for the words in the air around me, "like... Its a lost cause. Its Insanity! It's trying to change something that cant be changed. Over and over, I'll dry myself off, but it'll never change. I'll always be a... a Monster... I'll always be wrong. Disgusting. Bad." His eyes are softer now, and the smoke in the room from my burning flesh finally tickles my nostrils. I glance down, and there are patches of darker skin, like the skin under the makeup is burning to a crisp. Seeming to notice the same thing, Devon grabs a towel and rushes over, ripping off my wig and throwing the towel around my shoulders. I try to protest, but he grabs the edge of my shirt, and pulls up, exposing my green abdomen.

Expecting him to back away in revulsion, I close my eyes.

So try and imagine my surprise when I feel someone gently wiping away the moisture on my stomach.

Not just someone... Him.

Opening one eye, I find him furiously working to dry my skin, his eyebrow furrowed in concentration. When he starts on my lower stomach, I blush as the towel swipes beneath my belly button. He stands up again, meeting my eyes, and gently laying the towel on the counter next to me. He grabs the other one and wraps it back around my shoulders, stepping back.

"I'll go get some more towels. You're more soaked than I thought... While I'm gone, try shimmying out of those skinny jeans. They're holding the most water." He turns, and I can feel my face flush, and I struggle to slip off the black, sopping mess. As soon as they're off, I realize the only thing I'm still wearing... are my underwear. I pull the towel down quickly, fearing embarrassment, and wraps it around my waist. He returns with two more towels, and grabs the one from me, which is wet already. Pushing the skinny jeans away, he bends before me, and I back up as much as I can as he begins to dry my legs. When he starts to dry above my knees, I shiver and yell, "Stop!" He snaps his head up to face me, and I push his hand away, grabbing the other towel. "I-I I can do it m-myself..." He frowns and begins to speak, when he suddenly realizes that I'm half naked. He stands up quickly, blushing and nodding, then walks out of the bathroom. I shut the door, and grab the other towel, stripping down to nothing before drying myself completely. I get dressed again, in grey baggy sweatpants and some other underwear. But, in all the fuss, the shirt had fallen into the sopping mess on the floor. By now, its wet as well, and most of my makeup is gone, so I walk out of the bathroom with nothing  but pants and underwear on. Devon is standing in the window, the only window in the entire apartment, still sopping wet, and dripping all over the floor.

"Devon, I'm not the only one who need to dry." I say, and he jumps, startled, and looks back at me, blushing. With a nod, he brushes past me and goes into his room.

I sit down on the chair opposite the window, staring at the rain drops, and hoping that there's another rainy day in our future.