Mr. Perfect

Fifteen

Amelia

I let out a sigh of relief when I shut my eyes as an attempt of falling asleep. I pulled the covers over my shoulders and rolled to my side to finally drift off to the dreamland.

But I couldn't drift off because my mind wasn't planning on drifting there... there's this feeling of discomfort and curiosity that washed over me since two days ago.

The day Marcus left for some "Business". When he came back he was pissed off and just went straightaway to his room without even caring to say hello to me. Yesterday, he acted like nothing happened – like he didn't ignore me all day and act as if I didn't exist. He still wore his pissed off face. The only exception was that he forced a fake smile that never reached his eyes anyway.

It hurt me when he ignored me and smiled fakely at me.

I don't know why it hurt... but it just did.

I jumped as I heard a shattering sound coming from downstairs. I sat up on the bed, trying to get a better listen of the sounds downstairs. I thought it was just Marcus making something for himself and that it wouldn't happen again.

But it did...

I stood up on my feet, slowly making my way towards the doorframe.

I scanned the area downstairs, but there wasn't anyone there.

"Marcus?" I shouted, waiting for him to answer me.

Praying it would be him who answers me.

Terrible thoughts came to my head as the sounds of things breaking continued.

What if his father found us?

What if Marcus's in danger?

What if he kills him?

What if I lose Marcus?

I swallowed hard, and decided to go downstairs to check on him.

My breaths were shaky as I slowly walked down the wooden stairs. I looked around the living room, and there was nothing – Marcus's tv show was still playing on the television but the sound was turned off. As usual.

As I got closer to his bedroom's door, I could hear him panting and breathing heavily while tapping hard on the table in his room.

I opened the door very slowly and very little. I looked through the little space I had just opened.

The room was lit up with a small lamp next to his bed. His brown skin was glistening with sweat. His brown curls were darker as they were drowned with his sweat as well - stuck on his forehead. His face was red and the dark green dress shirt he was wearing was darker under his arms and on his back and front.

He was mumbling words under his breath while walking back and forth. He mustn't have noticed me yet.

My eyebrows knitted together, trying to focus on what he was saying, but I couldn't quite understand it. He was just saying "No" over and over and other words that I couldn't catch.

His pacing stopped shortly after I'd opened the door – and I thought he noticed me – but he didn't. He went to the table again and slammed his hand hard on it. He didn't flinch. Almost like he never felt it.

His palms started rubbing his face and his wet strands altogether.

I couldn't handle just watching him anymore.

I tip-toed to him so the glass that's shattered on the floor wouldn't hurt me.

"Marcus..." I called. But he didn't seem to hear me, or notice me even.

I stood in front of him and held his face in my hands, making him look at me and called him again, "Marcus." His face was looking at mine. But his eyes weren't.

I gasped as he winced, still looking in his eyes that haven't found mine. He put his palms over mine, and stepped away from me. He sat on the floor and rested his back on the edge of the bed.

I slowly sat beside him.

He was still breathing heavily and shakily. He never stopped crying since the moment I came to check on him.

His hands were covering his ears and he was shaking his head.

"Wake up..." he whispered. Before a sob escaped his pretty lips. "Please, Mama... wake up." Marcus pleaded.

Is he dreaming? Is he reliving the memory of his mother?

"Don't leave me alone..." another sob. "You promised."

I wrapped my arms carefully around him. And just sat there listening to his cries... I didn't know what to do, I just kept telling him that everything's going to be okay, that his Mama is going to be okay, that his Mama is waiting for him when he wakes up.

Marcus stopped crying after a while and just drifted back to sleep. I kissed his forehead, whispering, "Sweet dreams." And got up to clean the mess in his room. I didn't want to move him yet, just so I don't wake him up.

After I had cleaned his room I tried to move him from the floor to his bed, but I couldn't. I made a bed on the floor instead and moved him there. Then I took his dirty shirt off of his sweaty body and grabbed a clean one and clothed him with it.

I couldn't go back to my room. I didn't want to leave his side. I wanted to be next to him. Tell him everything is going to be okay.

I never knew he had nightmares this bad. Were the nightmare caused by whatever that happened two days ago? Is that what's making him so afraid and, so... broken?

I laid next to him and just admired him. Who knew this Mr. Perfect was going through all of these things? I sighed. He doesn't deserve any of this... he deserves to be loved and protected.

Maybe it's time I start to protect him just how he protects me.

He calls me his Angel, why can't I be his guardian angel? I will protect him and I will love him.

Maybe breaking the fourth rule won't hurt me as much as I think it will.

No. I can't. I promised myself that I would stop thinking about breaking the fourth rule.

I brushed the curly strands of his hair away from his forehead. I wanted to see his birthmark. He let out a hum as I moved his hair back.

I smiled.

Why did I make the fourth rule anyway? Because I didn't know why he kidnapped me. But now I know. After he told me that day, yes, I may have had some doubts "Maybe he lied just so I would stop being so mean and annoying."

But now all of these doubts are gone.

I just have to decide:

To fall back in love.

Or...

To forget I even thought about the first option.

What would it be?

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