Marilyn: A decision between love and hate

chapter 19

Marilyn's pov

I sat next to Morgan, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Bisola and Joyce, but they were nowhere to be found.
The shots I had taken were starting to take their toll, and the thumping music wasn't helping.  Inioluwa's gaze on me, probably because I had been so close to Morgan throughout the party, and I knew I had to get out of there before things got awkward.
I tried to stand up, but my legs felt weak
Morgan's hand shot out, grasping my wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked, his face blurry and distorted. I struggled to focus.
"I don't feel good, I have to leave," I slurred. Morgan's grip on my wrist tightened.
"Let me escort you," he said, his voice low and husky. I didn't have the strength to resist as he pulled me close and wrapped his arm around me, guiding me out of the auditorium. The lights and music faded into the background as we stumbled out into the night air.

"I don't think leaving your girlfriend is the best idea now," I said, my words tumbling out in a rush. But Morgan's movements were fluid and deliberate, his hands grasping my waist as he positioned himself in front of me.
The chill of the night air was nothing compared to the frost that settled in my veins as his right hand claimed my face.
"Marilyn," he whispered, his voice low and husky, drawing out the syllables. I felt my mind go hazy, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. "Huh?" I managed to stammer, my voice barely audible. And then, everything went still.

In a split second, Morgan's lips were on mine, sending my world into a tailspin.
I was frozen in shock, my mind struggling to comprehend what was happening.
Was I dreaming? Hallucinating? The alcohol must be playing tricks on me, I thought. But the flash of small light from our opposite illuminated the scene, jolting me back to reality.
I pushed him away, my hands on his chest, and my voice laced with anger.
"What did you just do?!" I demanded, my words slurred but my outrage clear.

"I'm sorry, I'm drunk," didn't fool me. I knew he wasn't that drunk. He was never a lightweight.

"Get away from me!" I spat, stumbling backward, my eyes fixed on him with a mix of confusion and anger.

I stumbled away from Morgan, my legs wobbly beneath me as I struggled to process the shock of his lips on mine.
"Marilyn, wait!" he called out, his voice laced with a mix of desperation and regret.
But I didn't turn back.
I quickened my pace, my feet carrying me towards the safety of the  area.
"Leave me alone!" I hurled over my shoulder, my voice firm but shaky. I couldn't believe it. My best friend,, had just stolen my first kiss.
The thought sent a wave of nausea washing over me.
Just as I thought Morgan would chase after me, I heard Inioluwa's voice, a welcome distraction. "Morgan, what's going on?" she asked, her tone sharp with concern. I didn't turn back to see, but I knew she had intercepted him, saving me from further embarrassment.
I kept walking, my heart heavy with confusion and my mind reeling with questions.

I stumbled forward, my legs feeling like lead and my head spinning with a dizzying haze.
The world around me was a blur, and I couldn't shake off the sensation that I was floating on air. Just as my knees were about to buckle and I felt myself plummeting towards the ground, a strong arm caught me, steadying my fall.
"Hey, are you okay?" Pedro's concerned voice pierced through the fog in my mind, and I blinked hard, trying to focus on his worried face.
His warm hands grasped my elbows, holding me upright, and I felt a wave of gratitude towards him. "Pedro..." I whispered, my voice barely audible, as I struggled to regain my balance and composure.

"Let me get you back to your dorm," Pedro said, his voice soft and gentle as he swept me up into his arms, cradling me like a bride.
I gazed up at him, my mind foggy with confusion. "Why are you helping me?" I slurred, my words barely coherent.
Pedro's eyes locked onto mine, his expression kind and concerned. "Am I supposed to leave you in the dark, wasted?" he replied, his tone firm but gentle.

I felt a surge of gratitude towards him, and my arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking comfort in his embrace.

As he walked, his strides long and purposeful, I felt my anxiety melt away, replaced by a sense of safety and security in his arms.
Pedro's warmth and strength enveloped me, and I let out a sigh of relief, my mind finally at ease.

"You're not supposed to be drinking, especially if you can't handle alcohol," Pedro lectured, his voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. "What if your house matron saw you this way?" he added, his eyes sparkling with concern.

As we approached the dormitory, he gently set me down, my legs wobbly beneath me.
He summoned a junior student, who helped me stumble towards my room, Pedro's watchful gaze following us until we disappeared from view.

I was too far gone to even muster a "thank you", my words slurring together in a jumbled mess. As the darkness closed in, I felt myself slipping away, my consciousness fading into the night, leaving me at the mercy of my alcohol-soaked haze.