Intoxicated || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 59

Marshall's POV

The hum of the private jet was steady and dull, but my mind wouldn't quiet.

The tour was finally over—months of bouncing between cities, performing every night, and barely having a moment to breathe.

But now that it was finished, the only thing on my mind was her.

Leila.

Even as the lights of the city blurred beneath us and we started the descent, I felt the familiar tension gnawing at me. I hadn't seen her in weeks, but everything we'd been through before I left kept replaying in my mind like it was yesterday. Our last fight, the way she'd thrown those damn panties at me, the way her eyes blazed with that fury I couldn't get enough of.

The way she hit me.

And fuck, the crazy thing? It turned me on.

The sting of her slap, the shock of her ring catching my cheek and splitting it open—it should've pissed me off more than anything. But instead, all I could think about in that moment was how much I wanted her. How the anger between us only made the fire burn hotter. Even the taste of blood in my mouth didn't stop me from wanting to pull her close and feel every inch of her against me.

That was how it always was with us—explosive and uncontrollable.

I'd felt the heat rise in my chest when she hit me, but it wasn't just rage. It was something darker. Something primal. She knew how to push me, knew exactly how to ignite something inside me that no one else ever could. I hated it as much as I craved it. As much as I craved her.

Leila didn't just get under my skin—she was my skin. Every inch of me was wrapped up in her, even when we weren't together.

And then there was Madison.

I'd finally had enough of that. After the tour ended, after she crossed the line one too many times. She wasn't just lingering around anymore—she'd taken it too far when she slipped those damn panties into my luggage, hoping Leila would find them and tear us apart. But it didn't work.

Monica had called me when the tour was wrapping up. She told me about the hotel surveillance footage. Madison had been caught on camera entering my room when I was out, making it obvious what she was up to. That was it. The last straw. I made sure she was fired for it—there was no way I'd let her keep crossing those boundaries. She'd been fucking with my relationship for too long.

I wasn't going to let anyone—especially not Madison—mess with what I had with Leila. It didn't matter how volatile or chaotic things got between us. Leila was mine, and I'd do whatever I had to do to protect that, even if it meant cutting Madison out for good.

I shifted in my seat, grabbing the notepad from my bag. I'd been writing more than ever lately. The road gave me time to reflect, but it also left me restless, my mind spiraling over everything between us. And every time I thought of her—of us—lyrics started pouring out.

It wasn't just love. It was more than that. Our relationship was like some dark, twisted magic that pulled me deeper into something I couldn't escape, but I didn't want to escape it.

I opened the notepad, the blank page staring back at me, but the words were already forming in my head. I could feel it—the chaos, the intensity. That fire she lit inside me every time we collided.

We're volatile, I can't call it though...

It's like too large a peg, and too small a hole...

I smirked to myself. We never fit into anyone's idea of a "normal" relationship, and I knew people would think we were toxic, but fuck it, I didn't care. I thrived in the madness of it, the unpredictability of what we had. She made me feel something no one else ever could—alive, raw, real.