Drawn To You (GirlxGirl)

Part 1

Allie's P.O.V

"I can't believe we've been married two years already" Mark smiled as he poured more red wine into my almost empty glass.

I took a moment to think about the last 2 years of our married life. If I was being honest, marriage didn't really change anything about our relationship. We had always been loyal, devoted and caring towards each other. We treated each other well, and with respect. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to change after saying my vows, but the fact that nothing did change troubled me.

Mark and I met when I was 19. I was working full time in a supermarket in the centre of Glasgow and had no idea what my life was going to look like. The engine on my 11 year old, red Fiesta had started smoking on my way to work one morning so, like any other independent adult, I called my dad.

"There's a garage 2 streets away darling, just drive slowly" he had told me, after explaining he couldn't get away from work to save the day like I'd hoped he would.

My old car surprisingly made it to the garage, and that's where I met Mark. I didn't really notice him, not to begin with anyway. But when he talks about seeing me for the first time, he always insists he couldn't take his eyes off of me.

Mark's dad, Frank, was the owner of the garage. He was a quiet man, coming very close to retirement and teaching his son the trade before signing the place over to him. They worked together on my car, chatting amongst themselves and within 10 minutes I was back in the car ready to go to work.

I was broke, which was hardly surprising given I worked for minimum wage in a supermarket and was struggling to save up any cash I could to get myself a flat. But Frank was kind enough to agree to let me return the following day with (hopefully) some cash from my parents to cover the cost of the repairs.

The following morning, my parents handed me a white envelope with the cash inside, smiling sympathetically as I drove off towards the garage. I hated asking my parents for handouts, so I had every intention of paying them back once pay day rolled around.

Mark greeted me as I stepped out of the car in front of the run down garage, made a bad joke about being worried I would "rip him off" and then asked for my number. The rest, as they say, is history.

Now, here we sat, in a fancy Italian restaurant sharing a bottle of red wine after 10 years together. The last two years as a married couple.

"Allie?" Mark spoke again, prompting me for a response.

I snapped out of my thoughts and smiled gently at him, reaching across the table to take his hand in mine. I held his gaze and he smiled back, squeezing my hand gently.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about our life together" I told him truthfully. "It's been a quick two years, hasn't it?" I asked.

In some ways, it had been a very quick two years. Sometimes when I look back to being 19, living with my parents and having no money.. it's like I just blinked and suddenly everything was different. But in other ways, it had been a drag. Every day felt the same, looked the same. I knew what each morning, afternoon and evening were going to look like days in advance. There was no excitement or spontaneity, and there hadn't been for many years now.

Mark and I finished the bottle of wine, paid the bill and made our way out onto the dark streets of Glasgow. He held the door open for me on our way out, like he has done with every door we've passed through from the moment we met, and took my hand as we walked towards our home.

Mark was a handsome man, the stereotypical type of handsome. He was tall, standing at 6ft and 4 inches, he had thick wavy dark brown hair and short, neatly trimmed stubble. His skin was clear, apart from a few blemishes across his forearms caused by minor injuries from working in the garage. He had a slight tan, not something you can say about many Scottish men. He had an Italian look about him I thought, a comment he always found funny when I offered it to him. He had dark brown eyes that seemed to sparkle in certain lights. He was a casual guy. I suppose he had to be because of his occupation but on nights like these he always wore a suit. And he would always say the same thing when leaving the house for a date night - "wearing my best suit for the best wife". Quite a cute comment, most would think. It grated on me after a while, but I always gave him a kiss in response.

We arrived on our street after 10 or so minutes of walking and small talking, occasionally sharing a laugh. The street lights had just come to life, giving the quiet estate a warm orange glow in the darkening summer sky. The 22 houses that made up the estate mostly looked the same. All two stories, detached and all painted white with big black gates leading to a large red bricked drive way. Most people had put their own touches in their garden with either fairy lights or garden ornaments, but to me they all looked very uniform. The perfect cliche for couples and family life.

"Thank you for a great evening" I said as I hung my coat on the rack at the front door.

I caught a glance of myself in the large, rectangular mirror that hung on the wall in our hallway. I looked tired and deflated, I thought. My long brown hair sat with a wave over my shoulders. My skin looked paler than normal, and I could still see the outline of small bags under my green eyes - the end product of staying up late to study for my upcoming exams at university. My long, silk black dress  used to make me feel good about myself. I found it a bit boring now, but Mark always insisted because it matched his suit so well.

Mark came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, catching my eye in the mirror and holding my gaze.

"The night isn't over yet" he winked and gently pulled me towards the wooden staircase to our left.

We rarely had sex these days, only really on occasions like this - when we were celebrating something. Mark never mentioned our sex life, so I assumed he was ok with the lack of it.

We stumbled into our bedroom, kissing each other and fumbling to take each other's clothes off. I wasn't in the head space for sex tonight. Actually, that wasn't true. I've always enjoyed sex, but over the years it had started to feel more like a chore. I'm sure every couple that have been together as long as Mark and I have go through the same thing though.

As I felt my husband's body on top of mine, his strong arms on either side of my head, my wedding ring caught my eye as it sparkled in the moonlight coming through the curtains.  The white sparkly diamond no longer made me feel warm inside like it once did.

"I love you" Mark whispered in my ear as he thrust himself into me slowly.

I wanted to roll him over, take control and add some excitement to married sex. But Mark liked soft, and gentle, and loving. So I wrapped my arms around his back, kissed his shoulder and told him I loved him too.

From the outside, this was the perfect relationship. I had the perfect house, the good looking and hardworking man that every woman dreams about, we had good money coming in from Mark expanding the garage, we very rarely argued. But living in it, it didn't feel perfect. And I hated myself for that, because I think it was perfect to Mark.