Telegraph Ave

Island Blues

The car hummed as we drove over the rocky path. The radio played softly as I rubbed my left palm with my thumb. My teeth buried into my lip, as I spared occasionally side glances at Mark. This went on for at least half an hour, until he let out a soft laugh. I knew right away what he was gonna comment on, but I still asked, "What?" He smirked and looked at me for a second, before he returned his eyes to the path and said, "Nothing. Just you've been doing your little nervous habits, and thinking I didnt see you staring at me-"
"I wasn't staring!" I got defensive quickly, and toned down my voice as I continued, "I only glanced a couple of times."
He laughed a bit louder this time, and I let out a quiet giggle too. Silence fell between us again, comfortable silence. Again, the radio's song filled the air, until he spoke again. "What were you nervous about?" I immediately shrugged, and practically whipsered my reasoning. He furrowed his eyebrows,"Don't do that. Don't shy away from telling me things when you spent this whole drive looking at me." I wanted to be angry at him for doing that, but two things stopped me.
1. He wasn't wrong.
2. He was getting frustrated. I could tell by how tightly his hands gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were practically white. I sighed and said louder and more cleary, "Because I'm scared. B-Because you kinda scare me. Not that it's bad, It's like an excited scared I think? I don't know, I just get anxiety whenever I'm around you. Like I'm gonna fuck it up or something." He nodded, eyebrows still knitted together, hands still gripping the steering wheel.
"So are you nervous because you think you'll embarrass yourself, or that I'll see you do something embarrassing and hurt you consequently? Or that I'll just hurt you regardless?" The tone of his voice scared me more. He rarely sounded this serious. Well, rarely meaning within the few of months I've known him. He came to this small island on a vacation I guess, and we sorta met by chance. So we've began to hang out at the beaches and stay out till the early hours of the morning. I purposely kept my gaze on my feet, so I wouldn't be tempted to look up at him anymore, in fear I'd see him getting more angry.
"I don't know. Both maybe? The last option possibly? I guess I'm just worried, in general, that you don't actually like me."
I looked out the window on my left, and saw the beaches near us again. A different side of the island, on the opposite side of the area I live in. He stopped the car a bit before the grass met the sand, and let out another rough sigh as he got out. He didn't look as pissed anymore, but he was obviously still upset. I quietly stepped out of the car, and followed him down to one of the bonfire pits on the beach. I would have offered to help him carry the stuff we brought, but it was very little, and I didnt want to bother him more so than I already had.
He remained quiet as he laid out the towels I had packed, and he placed the supplies for the bonfire off to the side, seeing as the sun was up. He was doing something else afterwards, but I decided to leave him alone and take a seat on my towel. I slowly unbuttoned my shirt with shaking hands, and leaned back to look at the hazy sun. In another hour or so, it would start setting maybe. My thoughts were interrupted by Mark sitting besides me on his towel. Awkward stiff silence hung in the air before he sighed once again and murmured, "I'm sorry." My eyes went wide. Why was he sorry? I was the one who was doubting him for something he hadn't even shown any signs of. He continued as I felt my heart racing in fear of what he would say next, "I'm sorry I make you nervous. I'm sorry you think I don't like you. But...." He paused and turned to lay on his side. I figured I should lay on my towel as well, and face him as he continued. I did so, but kept my eyes on the grains of sand I was playing with. "It's not true you know? I do like you. I just don't want to hurt you. You trusted me so easily. It wasn't very smart on your part, but lucky you, I'm not too evil."
I recognized this tone in his voice, he was being a sarcastic prick. But right now, it was oddly relieving. I laughed a little bit, before moving to lay on my back. I felt his eyes still on me. I wanted to turn and look at him, but I closed my eyes instead. There was a few long seconds of silence, and when I was about to look to my side to see if he was still staring, I felt his warm breath so close to the nape of my neck. My eyes shot open, and I saw he was holding himself above me, and was leaning in closer. He spoke into my ear, the warmth and the huskiness of his voice, sending chills down my spine. "I'm sorry you thought of all of those things. But I promise you, I'll show you that you were wrong." I could barely breathe, my heart was going fast, and my thoughts going even faster, I barely managed to stutter, "M-Mark, what're you doin-" My voice was cut off as I gasped when I felt his lips make contact with my neck. He laughed, before continuing to kiss my jawline, and down my neck. A moan escaped my lips faster than I could stop it, and I felt my face burn red. He took this as a sign to continue, as he trailed kisses all along my collar bones, roughly tugging off my shirt when it got in his way. "Mark, please, d-don't."
Upon hearing these words, he looked up, assuming to see if I was serious. I wanted to. I really did. But I don't even know how to kiss someone properly, let alone get past that base.
He smirked a little, I swear I saw a glint of lust in his eyes as he smiled up at me. "Are you telling me you don't like this?" He leaned down further and kissed my lower stomach, proceeding to trace more kisses along the v lines next to my hipbones. Each kiss earning tiny moans and squeaks out of me.
"I-I do! It's just I'm not sure if I want t-to yet."
He stopped and came to rest his body closer to mine, now smiling innocently as if he hadn't just done that. He stared at me for a few seconds, and I began to blush even more, before he spoke,
"Let's go swim. Come on. Before it gets too cold or too dark." He got up, tugged off his shirt, and before I could protest, was dragging me by my hand. As soon as I tried to dig my feet into the sand, he just picked me up bridal style. I was giggling at this point, and in between laughs and gasps, I was telling him to stop. He slowly walked into the water, as the coldness barely touched my butt and my thighs. No matter how long I've lived on this island, I'd never get used to the cold water. I was still laughing but asked Mark to let me down, and he finally did, letting my lower body submerge in the cooler water. The orange sun light lit up the clear ocean. I was staring out towards the sun, when Mark pulled me closer to him. He was decently taller than I was, my head barely reaching his chin. Being pressed against him like this felt really nice actually. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead, before whispering, "Come on." He laced his fingers between mine, and led me to the left side of the island. I recognized that area, the few times I visited this place as kid, my mom always told me to never go near those sharp rocks. She said it's where the manta rays were, and that they would kill us if we even thought about going near them. I tensed up and this time, firmly planted my feet into the damp sand, feeling the tiny ghost crabs crawl over and away out of the kicked up sand.
"We can't! There's manta rays there. We can't go there. I can't. You can't. Don't." He turned and smiled gently at me, our hands still within each others. He leaned down a little, and cupped my cheek in his hand. "It's okay. Here, get on my back. If they attack, it will be me, not you, who gets hurt." I shook my head, "Neither of us will get hurt if we just don't." But as I said this, I was taking up his offer when he turned his back to me and said get on. So we continued, my legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his shoulders. He stopped a couple of feet from the rocks, and pointed at bright spots that painted them.
"See those? They're starfish. But, if you pick one of them up, chances are it'll be dead. Look at the colours. The one with washed out faded colours are old, and usually dead. So if you find a bright one, it's brand new." I smiled, my mother told me vaguely of these, but usually went back to the whole 'But dont go there or else you'll die' speech. I nodded as I saw a bright red one with pink spots on it.
"It's so small!" I laughed, comparing my small hands to it, and seeing it would comfortably sit in my palm. A breeze blew and I took my hand back to being around Mark's shoulder, and instinctively cuddled closer, resting my head in the nape of his neck.
"Let's head back." I felt the vibrations of his voice as he said this and I nodded.