A thousand times I've seen you standing

Gravity like lunar landing

Make me want to run till I find you.

Shut the world away from here

Drift to you, you're all I hear

As everything we know fades to black

Half the time the world is ending,

Truth is I am done pretending

- Gavin Rossadale, Love Remains The Same

"I love you".

He mouthed it with naiveté, with a sort of wistful longing, in hopes against hopes that she would someday turn around to see him whisper it once- just once, so there would not be a further need for him to ever say it face to face to her.

I mean, come on, macho Fang has a reputation to hold on to, you know?

Still, it hasn't stop the countless times he said it to her retreating back- when she stalked off to her room after a small argument, when she flew off and left him with the half the flock, when she opens her wings against the sunset and propels herself up to the sky, a silhouette framed by the colours. And then there were the times when she closed her eyes to sleep and he'd whisper it to her, when she hugs him out of joy and he breathes that sentence through her hair, when she's staring up at the stars at night with that sort of serenity and peace that was hard to come by, and at that moment her eyes beheld the entire universe.

It was a fragile contentment. The need to gain her recognition, response and at the same time keep her in absolute secrecy to prevent himself from knowing the truth was singularly the most amazing paradox that could be reasoned out in Fang's head, so much so that every missed opportunity, every time she half-turned or when her eyes seem to glance backwards his heart would leap, then dread would come.

Oh sure, he considered all of the other non-vocal options- sending that letter, writing it in the sand or dang it, even mimicking those airplanes trailing smoke in the sky, except it would be extremely low budget with Iggy rigging him up with a smoky faulty bomb, whatever. But it all just seem so superfluous for Max. She deserved something delivered with a resounding, solid confidence for her approval, at the very least which Fang can't do. Thus, living in tormented hell.

Darn, Max. Darn Max and her messing of his emotions, darn it how she doesn't turn around all the time and darn his own cowardice. Darn, darn, darn-

-"Hey." Max came from behind him to where he was on watch, watching the sky at the mouth of the cave.

"Hey."

[…]

"Going to explain your current streak of depression?"

He smirked. "Not really"

[…]

"Alright, how about I force it out of you?"

He tried hard not to laugh. "It's nothing really"

"Yes it is"

"No it's not"

[…]

"Nothing to report then?"

"Nothing in particular"

[…]

"Off to sleep then. Carry on with your admirable duty you brave soldier!" An attempted salute from Max and a grin from Fang as she headed back to where everyone else were still sleeping soundly.

And he couldn't resist mouthing those three words to her, as a good night, as her hair glimmered softly in the pale moonlight.

…And Max suddenly stop short.

"Happy 100th, Fang." She said without turning. "Maybe by the thousandth I would be in a good enough mood to turn around- you think?" And with laughter in her voice that would be hard to detect by just anyone, she headed off back to the darkness of the cave.