𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 | 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 5

Marcus walked up to the door, had to be the seventh time in the last few days he had done this. The silence in the hall and from the room seemed to be mocking him. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. "Hey. It's Marcus. Again." He said, hoping the resident inside would listen. "I know you're mad at me. I had to do it, I mean, you'd do the same." He defended. He realized he had sounded a bit too aggressive then sighed, "I just wanted to talk about what happened. I know what PTSD looks like, maybe talking about it would help." Once again, no response. He didn't feel like giving up so he sat down on the beige carpet that covered the hall floors. He put his back against the door and leaned his head back. "I'm not leaving." He said confidently. He stayed silent for a little, thinking of what he could possibly say. "We're both in the same boat. Failed psych checks. We could-"

"Go away." The voice on the other side of the door felt colder than it ever had been. It hurt Marcus to hear all of the caring, warm parts of the voice that somehow made him feel like he actually mattered, like he didn't have to keep up his tough façade, just disappear. 

He tried to understand where the girl was coming from so he wouldn't take it too personally. "(Y/n), are you mad at me because I reported the mental breakdown to Grayson or because I reminded you of whoever hurt you?" He was hoping with all he had that it was the second answer. He didn't mean to make you mad, he just cared.

You stared at the door, thinking. Your emotions were conflicted ever since the night. "I don't know." You weakly answered, your voice had no confidence in it. You couldn't muster up the confidence. You couldn't muster up the energy to even try.

"Let me help you. Stop being so damn stubborn and open the door." You sat there on the couch for a few seconds, not moving. You wanted so badly to just ignore him. But you found yourself standing up and walking over to the door. You rested your head against the door for a moment before you opened it.

When you did open it, Marcus almost fell down as he was resting his weight on the door. You looked down at him, a bit confused. "Why are you sitting there?" 

He quickly stood up. "I wasn't sure when you were going to open the door." You shrugged, then moved out of the way so he could walk into the apartment. He walked in and looked at you to attempt to get a sense of your emotions. He slowly walked over to your couch and sat down, not wanting to overstep. You closed the door and locked it before you sat on the opposite end of the couch. There was a silence for a bit before Marcus interrupted it, "What happened that night?"

"Well you were there, you hugged me, I pushed you off and had a mental breakdown."

"Well yeah." Marcus huffed. He was trying his best not to be too annoyed at you for not telling him exactly what he wanted. "I mean, what happened in your head? What made that happen?" 

You sighed, trying to calm yourself down to be able to say anything. You looked down at the dark leather of your couch to avoid eye contact with the man. "Um... well, it's obvious that in the Undercity, we aren't really physical affection kind of people." You started, trying to think of how to explain. "The only time I got hugged was when the kids, well mostly teenagers now, didn't see me in awhile or was really worried about me. Of course I'm bigger than them so it wasn't the same as..." You paused, tearing up a little. You hadn't talked about him since you left. You had tried to forget about him. "Well, the only guy bigger than me that would hug me. My dad." You lifted up your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs, resting your weight on them.

"Your dad was a shitty guy?"

You chuckled, "To say the least. I mean, he wasn't a bad dad. Usually. He's a bad person with abandonment and control issues. So he was usually a good dad but he was controlling and if I ever even seemed like I wanted to leave, he'd freak. He was a good dad for a total psycho I guess you could say. But, whenever I was having a mental breakdown because of something someone did, he'd always hug me. Then he'd always say... we'll show them. When you hugged me, all I could hear was my dad's voice saying that we'll show them."