The Best of Her

Chapter Twenty eight

Mavis.

His mouth fell open in surprise. He didn't expect that, did he? He is finally realizing that he has to deal with an ex-addict, manipulative, depressed, full of anger issues and trust issues bitch who doesn't know shit about what she is doing with her life. I will probably regret this when I'm sober, but alcohol gets me to overshare, I can't help that.

He looks so beautiful.

His hair is a bit messy and falling over his eyes, my hands were brushing it back before I could think twice about not doing it. And I shouldn't have done it, it's so silky and healthy that I'm jealous and can not stop running my fingers through it. "Are you regretting inviting me over?" his pretty eyes are focused on me, and then I felt his hands holding my waist, and a rush of giddiness shot through my body. There are too many clothes between us, I want them off. "No, I think that's the best decision I've made in a long time,"

"Really? You the king of good decisions have had bad ones before?"

He opens his mouth then closes it for a second before he says, "I've made a lot of those," I bend a little closer to his face. "Like what?"

He is silent, thinking. I suddenly feel a little pang of hurt, he doesn't trust me enough to tell me one of his secrets. I feel like an idiot now, I told him so much, maybe too much and the worst is I don't regret most of it. He is that kind of person that you can't help but trust, and confine in. He makes me feel safe. And I don't make him feel like that. I drop my hands to my side and pull away. I tried to stand up but his hands held me in place, he pleaded with his eyes, "please don't, I'm trying."

He takes my hand and put it back in his hair, I couldn't complain when he was looking at me like that. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's that I never want to think of it." I understand. Sometimes you just want to erase some memories because of how much they hurt. "You don't have to," he leans his forehead against my chest and I brush the hair at the nape of his neck. "I-" his voice cracked before he tried again, "I almost killed someone when I was sixteen."

It's my turn to be surprised. "He was a bully, and kept picking on one of my friends calling them slurs and stuff for the whole year, and one day I lost it. I hit him so bad I put him in the hospital." he pauses and I caressed his neck with the tips of my nails trying to bring him some kind of comfort. He sighed and then continued, "I never resolved to fighting before, always tried to play it nice. My mom always kept talking about how violence is never the answer to anything, but that guy just wouldn't stop at words. And no one did anything about it."

"It's like when I started punching him, I couldn't stop. And when they pulled me off him and I stared at what I did, I got scared because I didn't even recognize myself, I couldn't believe I did that," he looked up, his gaze hazy, sad at the memory. "My mom was crying and told me to never do something like that again, she said I reminded her too much of my father and it's scared her that I would turn out like him." oh my goodness, that's something awful to say to your scared child. He was already full of guilt, I can't imagine what he felt after that.

I hug him, pulling him as close as I could. "Is that why you always try to be nice to everyone and avoid conflicts at all times?" he nodded and the contact prickled my skin. "I don't want to hurt people, I don't want to turn out like him." my heart breaks into a thousand tiny pieces. I pull his head out and hold his cheeks so his eyes could meet mine. "You can't let one incident define your whole life, and surely not one you've made when you were young and naive." I know that sounds hypocritical to me, but June is a good person, he learned from his mistakes, he tries to be a better person every day, hell even his dream is to help people. While me, I keep sulking in my corner crying at how horrible I am without making any good effort to be better. I'm not a good person, that's what makes us different. "You're a beautiful human being, and you deserve the world. But trying to please everyone is impossible, June. Pent-up anger is what leads you to do that, sometimes telling people to fuck off before they piss you off is a good thing."

He stares at me for a second before he graces me with one of his breathtaking smiles that has me melting. "First of all, you called me beautiful, and second of all are you trying to use your psych major stuff on me?" my mouth itched into a small grin of my own. "It's not psych major stuff, it's what I learned the hard way. It's better to tell people to fuck off than to hit them."

"You're avoiding that you called me beautiful,"

I scrunch my nose and shrug off, "I guess that was a slip of a tongue," he pinches my side and sends me a playful look, "I thought we were being nice?" I pinch his cheeks to get back at him, "well you shouldn't think if you're going to think wrong," He chuckles and stands up rubbing his now red cheeks, "you're so mean, I don't know why I find that attractive."

"Maybe you have got deeper issues than you know," He walks to his closet while shaking his head, grabs a shirt, and gives it to me. I eye him for a moment, his honey orbs dilated, lips a shader pinkish, rec cheeks and hair messier because of me. I so adore this sight of him, I want to capture it and hold on to it forever. "Do you want me to strip for you?"

He blushes, the guy really blushes and it's the cutest thing ever. "Of course not, you can change in the bathroom," he points to a door and I decide to not say much but only smile at him. "Don't make fun of me," I stand up still smiling, "I'm not making fun of you."

While in the bathroom, he told me there was a spare new toothbrush for me to use, and when I got out he had changed into a tank top and sweats and my gaze couldn't help but focus on his biceps, because goddamn they looked nice. "Do you want a pair of pants? I thought the shirt would be longer," his voice brought my eyes back to his face and I shook my head in denial. "I don't like sleeping with pants on,"

He nods, "can we talk about tonight? And please don't avoid it,"

"I'm drunk, I don't think I will remember it by the morning,"

"Mavis," he pleads and I sigh, "what do you want to talk about June? The fact that I kissed your friend just to prove a point? Or that I almost hit your ex-girlfriend because I was so mad that she kept crossing your boundaries and not taking no for an answer? I literally make no sense at all. I want you to stay away from me, but then I jump to protect you the second I see you in an uncomfortable situation. I don't understand how you want to be with someone like me,"

He holds my stare, deep breathing before he says, "you don't have to have your whole life figured out to get into a relationship. I know you have your struggles and your issues, Mavis. I want to help you out, not out of pity or because I'm just that kind of person but because I deeply care about you, is that so hard to believe?"

But why? What's so special about me? I don't get it, I don't understand why or how he can care about me. "Can't we just stay friends?" I want to be his friend, it's true. But I also want to kiss him, hug him every time I want to, play with his hair and feel his skin on mine. But all of that comes with so much more. "I can still be your friend if that's what you wish, but I can't promise that I wouldn't want to hold your hand or kiss you out of nowhere, that I wouldn't feel so jealous and protective of you when you would wear such a short skirt, or that I wouldn't hate it if you would kiss other guys."

I didn't realize he got so close that when he says his next words his face was inches away from mine. "I would respect your choice but my feelings wouldn't change just so you know,"

Damn him. Damn him and his stupid words. How dare he make me feel like this. I feel like a teenage girl all over again. But this time it feels right. I don't know how he does it, but he always knows what to say to make me weak in the knees. "I don't know," that's all I could say because I truly don't know. He chuckles a little, "I'm not asking you to marry me Mavi, just that you give me a chance."

He called me Mavi. He called me Mavi.

I only tolerate it from my mom, but it sounds so sweet from him. I wanna hear it again. "What did you call me?" he cokes his head, "Mavi? You don't like it?" I suppress a smile. "No, no, it's fine."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

I shrug off slightly, looking away from him I reply, "I guess so, but it's just because I don't want to hurt your feelings,"

he beams before he had me up in his arms. "Glad you decided to be so nice to me."