"You're insufferable."
"Maybe," he says softly, "but you still can't keep your eyes off me."
"Maybe I don't want to."
♥___________♥
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢
Playboy, arrogant, and egoistic-sounds like a typical jerk, right? But there's more to Marco th...
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I didn't knock. I didn't text or call. I just barged into James' apartment, my blood boiling the entire walk over. I had let him get away with it last night—let him act like the victim. Not anymore.
James was sitting on the couch, looking half-asleep, but as soon as he saw me, his face shifted into that unreadable expression he always wore. He didn't move, didn't even blink.
"This is my house, if you didn't notice," he said, his voice flat, like he didn't give a damn.
I slammed the door shut behind me, "How fucking dare you?"
He didn't react. Didn't flinch. Just stared at me with those cold, unreadable eyes. It pissed me off even more.
"How dare you think you get to walk around like you're the one who's hurt here? You don't! You don't get to stand there and act like everything that happened was my fault."
James raised an eyebrow, still calm. Too calm. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to say it! You never do!" I shouted, taking a few steps closer, my fists clenched at my sides. "You just stand there with that stupid look on your face, like you're the one who got screwed over. Like I'm the one who abandoned you."
His eyes flickered—just for a second—but he didn't say anything. That silent act of his was infuriating. Like he thought he was too good for this, too good for me.
"You don't get to act like the victim!" I shouted, feeling my chest heave, "You're not the victim here, James. I saved your ass last night. You should be thanking me. Instead, you storm off and act like I'm the one who hurt you."
James's jaw tightened, and he finally stood up, facing me. "You think you saved me last night?"
"Yeah!" I yelled. "I saved you, just like I've done a hundred times before, and you still treat me like garbage. You don't appreciate anything I do. And you sure as hell don't get to act like I haven't been there for you."
"You've been there for me?" James repeated, his voice low, his eyes narrowing. "Is that what you think? That you've been there for me?"
I blinked. "I—what?"
"You think you're some kind of hero because you picked me up when I was drunk?" he said, his voice rising. "You think that makes up for everything else?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I spat.
"You left me, Marco!" James shouted back, his face twisting with anger. "You left me first."
"Left you?" I scoffed, throwing my hands up. "I didn't leave you. You cut me off first, James. You left me first! You let everyone turn on me, and you did nothing!"
"I did nothing?" James repeated, "You're the one who lied to me. You're the one who humiliated me."
"Oh, here we go," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you're so innocent in all of this? You think I'm the one who screwed you over?"
James's eyes flashed with something—anger, hurt, I didn't know. "I trusted you, Marco. I thought we were—"
"Don't say it," I interrupted, my voice sharp. "Don't even try to say it. You didn't trust me. You never trusted me. If you did, you wouldn't have cut me off like I was nothing."
James's fists clenched at his sides, and he took a step closer, his face tight with anger. "I didn't cut you off because I wanted to, Marco. I cut you off because you made me feel like I was nothing. Like I didn't matter to you."
I stared at him, stunned for a second. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't get it, do you?" James said, his voice quieter now, but still filled with frustration. "You never got it. You never understood how much I trusted you. How much I cared."
"Oh, please," I scoffed, shaking my head. "Don't try to turn this into some sob story about how you were the one who got hurt. You're the one who ditched me when everyone else did. You're the one who left me out to dry."
James laughed bitterly. "You think I wanted to be part of all that crap?"
"But you did," I shouted, stepping closer, my heart pounding in my chest. "You didn't have to leave me. You didn't have to act like I didn't exist. But you did."
"You lied me, Marco!" James shouted back, his voice finally breaking. "You made me feel like I mattered. Like we were friends. And then I find out it was all a joke. A dare."
My heart stopped.
My throat tightened.
That's what this was about. The dare. The thing I'd hoped he'd never find out about.
"James—"
"No," he cut me off, his voice raw. "You don't get to say anything. You don't get to stand there and yell at me like this is all on me. You started this, Marco."
"It wasn't like that," I said, my voice shaking now, trying to explain. "It wasn't—"
"Wasn't it?" James snapped, his eyes flashing with anger. "You used me, Marco. You made me think we were friends, and then I find out it was all a joke. That I was just some stupid dare."
"It wasn't like that," I repeated, my voice desperate now. "It started that way, but it changed"
"Changed?" James laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "No, You don't get to pretend like any of this was real."
"It was real!" I shouted, stepping closer, my heart pounding in my chest. "It was real for me, James. You have to believe that."
"I don't have to believe anything," he said, "You humiliated me. You used me. You made me feel like I was worthless."
I stared at him, my mind racing, trying to figure out what to say, how to make him understand. "You don't know the whole story."
"Then why don't you tell me what really happened?" James said, daring me to explain.
I froze, the words dying in my throat.
"That's what I thought," James said quietly, his voice filled with disappointment. "You never could tell me the truth."
"Wait," I said quickly, my voice catching. "I'll tell you. Just... sit down."
He hesitated, eyes narrowing as he glanced at me. "Are you actually going to tell me the truth this time, or are you just stalling?"
"I'll tell you everything," I promised, my heart racing. "Just sit."
