|Caramel Eyes and the Delicate Sky| A Wrencus fanfic(Wrench x Marcus) 🖤💙

Chapter 11

***Warning- Topic of murder***

It's been 2 hours or so on the private jet to New York and it was luxurious. The floors were solid black, white leather furniture with accents of red. It had a mixing bar, holding the finest alcohol and non-alcohol beverages. We also got a snack cabinet, with random foods. The armchairs reclined out like a bed so you could relax and watch tv. 

"So, Wrench. What's your type of girl, or dude?  Are they tall? Thick? Skinny?" Marcus finally spoke after 30 minutes of looking out the window at the sunset. It was dark though so looking at the stars and the colors was mesmerizing.

His question caught me off guard and I was already buzzed with 5 beers in me. I was about to spill my whole thought process onto his plate, but I held it back. I didn't want to say the wrong thing intoxicated.
I immediately came up with it. "Lemme think, uh- anyone that's not Naomi."

"Valid." He nodded. "But really?" He was still gazing at the stars.

   Marcus has been a bit more physical recently. Like just a few days ago he tickled me and why didn't I question myself about it? The last time I recall us getting "close" is when we downed shots of vodka and I fell asleep on his lap. I only knew because that's where I woke up. But it's extremely weird for him to do such a spontaneous act. Not to mention the past 30 times Marcus was acting weird before this trip. Could it be? Is he interested? Or am I looking at particular things too greatly? Maybe he's confused or possibly horny or he's waiting—for me?

I was holding back hard until Marcus turned around from the window, expecting a response.

"You're thinking pretty hard on it?" Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"Marcus, just gi-."

"Me? Your type is me? That's flattering?" Marcus placed his hand on his chest and with eyes open wide, took it as a joke.

I facepalmed hard as my heart skydived out of the jet and I hid my somewhat pink face.

"No, no, no, no, let me finish my sentence." I panicked and laughed.

I came up with something random to quickly avoid the hazard he brought me into.
" You know, I like big butts and I cannot lie.." And I started dancing.
He raised an eyebrow and smirked "That's bull shit, you don't want me to know."  He took large gulps of his beer and sat down on the couch in front of me. Then he just didn't stop staring at me, sort of pestering me in a way.

"Ok, ok, I'm not that picky with any gender. A body is always going to be fine in my eyes once I get to know them."

He smirked and placed his beer down. "Fair enough, I didn't know the anarchist was a softie."

I chuckled awkwardly, "Yeah— that doesn't mean I don't hook up, nothing matters unless they got an STD."

He nodded. "Damn I agree with that, see there's something about blond girls with blue eyes, I just fall in love whenever I see one.

"So you're into white chicks?" I raised my eyebrow to see if he was implying that. 

"Pfft no, they're black and mixed girls out there that have blond hair and blue eyes what are you talking about?" He said foolishly then got up. He grabbed his beer from the table and went over to the kitchen area.
"Oh, duh," I said quietly, 'cause I was embarrassed. I was getting my hopes up because his type for sure sounded like me. But I'm pretty sure he's telling me that he's straight.

M started skirmishing through the cabinets searching. "I'm making instant shrimp ramen, you want some?"

"Sure, Why not?" I was getting a bit hungry. "So what are we exactly doing when we get there?"