Intoxicated || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 31

Leila POV

The picture was burned into my mind, as I stood, absentmindedly stirring the pot of ragu on the stove.

"Lala, I'll catch you tomorrow"

Turning I see Alec standing there with a bag sling over his shoulder.

"Where are you going? Hot date with Mon?"

"Yeah... And I'm kinda staying over her's tonight"

"First sleepover? That's hot"

He rolls his eyes with a shy grin "Don't make a big deal about it"

"I am, and I will be sending flowers"

"Don do that"

"I'm kidding, I won't, I'm so happy you guys have hit it off and are getting serious, you both deserve good people"

"Ok stop" he said with a bashful smirk "ill see you later Lala"

"Bye Romeo" I laugh at him as he leaves the kitchen, then hearing the front door open and close.

I turn back stirring the pot, humming along to a familiar song that came over the speakers As I started to move my hips and dance to it.

"Damn, would you take a look at you girl"

I froze as once again my present echoed the past, turning around slowly, making sure that it was in fact reality, because I sure was having a lot of flashbacks lately.

There he was in all his bearded 5'8 glory, smirking at me, leaning up against the doorway with his arms crossed.

It wouldn't be so bad and cliche if his song Crazy In Love wasn't playing pretty loud behind me.

Irony really.

I spun around hitting the pause button on my iPhone, turning back to him, only to come in view of his white t-shirt covered chest.

"Marshall, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, as his eyes moved off me and he sets them on the stove, reaching past me lifting the lid off the pot, investigating the ragu "Thought I'd come for dinner"

"How did you get in?" I said frowning at him.

He looked back down at me "Alec"

I stepped back hitting the stove "And who said I want you to come into my house and make yourself at home?"

"I do" he said leaning in, lips millimetres from mine, suddenly putting a piece of cooked pasta in his mouth and then leaning back "We turn up uninvited remember?"

He walked back into the hallway then returning with a smug smirk and an expensive bottle of wine and handing it to me.

"At least I don't turn up empty-handed"

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I subtlety looked at Marshall through the side of my eyes.

These scenes were getting eerily familiar, I was struggling to keep my composure, because these same scenes played out in a pool room over a decade ago, the only things missing was the smell of weed and alcohol.

The man still smelt the same.

"I have to admit, I was hoping you were a terrible cook at least"

"Nope, it's one of my hobbies"

"Here I was thinking your only hobby was being a man-hater"