𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - Ginny and Georgia

22

After she told him everything that had occurred leading up to Peter hitting her, she was about to go back inside, Marcus however refused to let her be alone. He could see through her act of pretending like everything was fine and knew she needed someone to be there to comfort her.

And, so she led him into her house and up into her bedroom. It must have been the first time he entered the front door instead of the window in what must have been forever.

He laid down on her bed, patting his chest as to signalize her to come lay down there and so she did. She had told herself she couldn't do that kind of stuff with him longer, but this time was an exception.

And, as he played with her hair, his other hand on her waist, she felt this sense of comfort and safety. The second thing she felt was tingling in her stomach, something she had come to acknowledge she only ever felt with him.

As her eyes wandered over to her closet she found herself glad he was there, because if he weren't she knew she'd try to self-medicate with alcohol like she found herself doing most days lately. But, in some ways, he was another type of self-medication, like a drug you knew was bad for you, but still couldn't resist.

"You know you can't be with him after what he did, right?" Marcus breathed out, breaking the peaceful silence and replacing it with uncomfortableness.

"It was partly my fault though, I di-didn't shut my mouth and I was being rude, I guess. He apologized right after, and he looked really remorseful" She rambled on only to feel his hands stop playing with her hair. She peeked up at him to see him pull the most distasteful facial expression she had ever seen.

"You aren't seriously defending him? It didn't matter if you were rude or annoying or whatever you think you were, it takes another type of scumbag to even think of hitting you for it. It's not your fault"

He was right, she knew he was. Her fucked up thought process however found Peter to be the "safe" option. With him, she knew exactly what was expected of her in their relationship whereas with Marcus she never knew where she had him. She didn't know if he even had feelings for her.

He could tell she was having an inner struggle over what he just told her and as a way of saying — I'm here for you — without having to communicate it, he wrapped both his hands around her comfortingly, leaning his head into the crook of her neck

"He isn't good for you, Amelia. The only thing he cares about is himself and his stupid fucking hairdo. He only knows the version of you that you've painted yourself to be, because you're too scared to show him the real you. He'll never really understand you the way you want him to, and you'll never find yourself wanting to try to help him understand either" He explained as gently as he could do, his eyes glued onto her. He wanted to tell her he understood, he knew the true version of her and he found her perfect. But, he couldn't bring himself to.

"How do you know?" Was all she said with a low and delicate tone in her voice, her eyes raised in surprise. It was as if he could read her like a book because he described exactly what she had been thinking and feeling. She always closed herself off so well, and, so for another person to be able to notice it, was so fucking scary.

"Because I know you" He answered simply but yet with so much hidden meaning behind it.

The room fell silent again and Amelia sat up a bit, her head turning fully towards him as her eyes landed on his. The atmosphere in the room changed into one of tension and she couldn't help but glance down on his lips. They looked so tempting.

"I just need to know, do you still like him?" He said his eyes trailing down her face as he got a bit closer.
He was quoting the question he asked her after she kissed him out on the curb the day they were smoking a blunt together.

It sure seemed like history repeating itself.

She shook her head slowly, but determinedly. "No"

He grinned subtly and she could see the hopefulness dancing in his eyes. Her attention darted down as she noticed she had somehow ended up sitting in his lap and as she looked up again she noticed his attention was on nothing but her lips. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach grow as his hands found their way back to her waist, and as if there were some magnetic pull, their faces only seemed to come closer and closer until she could feel his lips barely connecting with her own.

That was when she pulled away.

With all the willpower she could gather she tried suppressing whatever urge she had to feel him against her, to simply give in to what her own body wanted. Her brain was telling her to remember what she had promised herself, to not repeat the same mistake.

"Marcus, we can't"