CAPO

12. Dinner

tw: domestic violence (very light)

Arabella had just gotten home from school and exhaustion was reaching out to her, making her long for her bed.

But when she entered her apartment, she immediately knew Marcus was home. It was his shoes in the middle of her living room and his coat on her coffee table, a mug and a Chinese takeout box and blankets were all messily sprewn about that told her.

She sighed, closing the front door behind her. "I'm home!" She called out. Soon enough, she heard thuds against the hardwood floor and she turned, coming face to face with Marcus.

"Hello, you," He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss against her cheek. She absentmindedly turned away, making Marcus frown hard at her. "How was your day?"

"Fine, thank you. How was yours?"

"It was good, got a lot of work done," He said, taking a seat at one of the barstools. She nodded and went to her fridge, taking a water bottle from it.

"Are you going to be home tonight?" She asked before taking a gulp from the bottle.

"Yeah, I was hoping we could spend some time together,"

"I have plans," She said, putting the bottle back into the fridge. Marcus narrowed his eyes, "With?" The girl raised a brow, "Why do you care?" She asked, leaning back against the counter, her face smug.

"Because you're my girlfriend," He said matter-of-factly. She scoffed, "I haven't been your girlfriend for the past two years, Marcus." She mumbled, walking past him and to her bedroom.

Just as she passed him, he lunged for her forearm, snapping her against the doorframe. She yelped and gasped as her back collided with the wood.

"I hope you're not going out with that Giovanni cunt,"

She lifted her chin, her eyes clouding with tears. The grip on her forearm tightened and she winched, his fingernails sinking into her skin.

"You're hurting me," She whimpered.

"Ditto," He spat lowly.

She rolled her eyes, latching into his fingers in an attempt to pry him off of her. He only tightened his hold, making her whimper in pain.

"Marcus, please," She whispered, tears dripping down her face. "Don't make me lock you in this apartment, Arabella. Because I will, and you know it." She shook her head, "It's-It's not him," She lied. Her ears rung with fear and she was appalled by the man in front of her. He had never layed a hand on her and she was more surprised than hurt by his actions.

"Please," She begged, tears now rolling freely down her face. Marcus' jaw was set and tight and his eyes flamed over her face, leaving her skin burning.

"What does he have that I don't, hm? Is it his cock? You've probably fucked him already, haven't you?"

She shook her head frantically. "No, no, Marcus." She cried softly, looking away from his eyes. Her mind didn't even try to make her angry, she was more afraid than anything.

He scoffed, "If you have anything to do with him again, I will make you regret it, understood?"

She nodded, her head throbbing violently. He released her and she inhaled deeply, watching as he turned his back to her and slipped on his shoes, then his coat and walked out of the front door, slamming it so hard she felt the walls rattle next to her.

She slumped down on her couch, cradling Salem as her tears rolled down her cheeks, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as she leaned against the armrest, looking at the clouds in the sky, her cat falling asleep in her arms.