She is my Sin - A Marjumn Story

8: Flirting

“You think I didn't see your hand edging its way up that whore”s thigh.”

“Don't talk about my friend that way.”

“Oh oh oh and now you're even DEFENDING HER. Not even gonna attempt to deny that you were being completely inappropriate with her in front of me.”

“I don't know what you are trying to imply David. She is my friend and I was seeking comfort because you were upsetting me.”

“Yeah totally, comfort in her underwear. Am I going to have to fuck this behaviour out of you or are you gonna be able to promise me you'll stay away from her from now on.”

This was exactly what her mother had taught her would happen. Men using sex as a threat. That's all it was, a way to control her.

“I work with her Dave, I can't stay away from her.”

“You can keep your hands out of her pants though can't you?”

Right on cue, Autumn interrupted the love birds.

“Unfortunately, sunshine, no…. No she can't. Can you, darling?”

Darling?

Darling.

During Autumn's villain era, Marjorie had tried to strike up a conversation with Autumn that led to quite a boring conversation about men, more specifically, Dave. Autumn couldn't really be bothered to tune into Marjorie’s useless attempts and conversing, however, her ears did prick up at the mention of nicknames. She was adamant that nicknames were a horrendously cringey way to show love or appreciation, disrespectful even as it wasn't showing respect to the name the person had grown up with, so to hear Marjorie talk about how much she hated the nickname “Sunshine” was interesting to her. To Autumn, Marjorie seemed like the type of person to love that nickname, she was legitimately a ray of sunshine. Why would she despise what she is? What she literally is known to be? Her whole character was as if the sun had created her from its molten crust.

That's how Autumn saw her anyways.

The child of the sun and the child of the moon were never supposed to get along.

This mindset was broken when Marjorie and Autumn were both tasked with finding a parent that had abandoned their kid at the nursery so she could go on holiday. The drive to that despicable woman's house was eerily silent, a burning aura surrounding Marjorie as she intently watched the roads. Normally, this type of energy extruded from Autumn, all the parents were scared of her for this exact reason, but the second she replied to Marjorie’s

“Fancy paying them a visit?”

with her own

“You read my mind.”

something about this relationship had changed.

She saw a different version of Marjorie that day. This woman wasn't a ray of sunshine. She was a flame, roaring when she got the chance, but too tired to burn as brightly as she could.

One other thing Autumn had always remembered about this irritatingly time wasting conversation about nicknames was Marjorie's love for one nickname.

Darling.

It didn't comment on her appearance, nor did it comment on who she was as a person. To be called that name was to be told that everything the person knew about her or saw in her was endearing to them and them alone.

She was their darling girl. That was it.

“Where do you get off flirting with MY girlfriend like that, Slut?”