PS: RMCF. An Isco Alarcón Fan Fic

Chapter 6

Isco's P.O.V.

Even though my career, which I'd worked so long and hard for, was in jeopardy I'd never felt happier. I was so sure I loved her. I just wanted to hold her in my arms while we were alone, no media. I was scared that maybe my girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend) would rat us out.

Marc could also want revenge so it was a possibility that he would rat us out. There were so many things wrong with this. I was aware of that. She'd tried to stop me but our feelings were mutual. She loves me and I love her. No two human beings have ever been known that could suppress such feelings.

She was about to tell Marc that she loved another and we were so close to cleaning the slate. We would be able to be together without remorse, although in the shadows of the public world.

Cristina's P.O.V.

I took Marc to my dorm and told him that we couldn't be together anymore. He asked why and I just responded that there was another man. "It's Isco, isn't it?"

He was beathing heavily, pacing around the very small space in my dorm. I looked down and answered: "Yes." "That bastard. You could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at you. Fucking Madridistas are all the same. I shouldn't have trusted you." He looked at me with such rage, I felt like crying. "You're a bitch. A stone-cold bitch. I hope he breaks your heart so you know what this feels like."

I winced at his words and tears started flowing down my face. "I'm sorry, Marc." "You slept with him, didn't you?" I kept looking down, my body shaking, and didn't answer him. I felt terrified about what he could do to me. Could he really hurt me? Did he have it in him?

He took my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him, painfully digging into my cheeks with his fingers. "Answer me, you whore!" His gaze was that of a madman. He looked like he was about to kill me. And at that moment, I could only think of how beautiful he was. How we fall for a man just for what we see on the outside and how little we actually know him.

"Yes." I couldn't lie to him, for some reason. I think I felt like I owed him something. "After all those times you said no to me because 'you weren't ready'." He scoffed. He looked at me, a crazy look in his eyes. "Now you're going to sleep with me. Even if you don't want to."

He pushed me down on the bed and I tried to fight him off. "Marc, no! I'll scream!" I can't believe I've been this stupid. I thought I was smarter than a woman who could find herself in this situation. I was about to be raped by my ex. "You won't if you want to keep your little relationship a secret." He said, hatred in his eyes.

I stopped struggling but the tears kept flowing silently down my cheeks. He ripped open my shirt and started kissing my neck, my chest, my stomach... I was so disgusted. I kept wincing as he tugged my pants off and kept kissing me.

He came back up and stared at my tear-drenched face, the rage clear in his eyes. I thought maybe he'd taken pity on me. He slaped me accross the face and it hurt so much. The cheek was still throbbing as he whispered in my ear: "Stop crying, slut. Sleep with me like you slept with him."

I don't know how I find the strength but I stop my crying to respond: "I can't do that because I don't love you. I never loved you. I love him." There's really not much more he can do to me at this point. Or so I think.

He slowly stands up and keeps his eyes locked on mine, that look of pure hatred clear in them. "You will suffer for betraying me like this. I promise you will never feel a greater pain." Now I don't even know why I did that. I probably sunk myself further. I'm crying again as I close my legs and resort to begging. I'm so terrified.

"No, Marc. Please. Don't do this." I had felt so brave earlier but now I just felt like an ant that was about to be stepped on. After taking off his pants and underwear, he takes both my legs and opens them forcefully. "No, no. Please." I'm crying and begging quietly because if I put on a show, he'll rat us out for sure. In my horrified state, I'm pretty sure I hear a sound coming from the door. Maybe my neighbors called the police. It's a small complex and noises are very audible.

Somebody bursts in and before I can react, pushes Marc off me and against the wall. I close my legs reflexively and try to cover myself with the blankets on my bed as I look into the face of my hero. It's Isco.

I'm still processing as I see him take Marc's much frailer body by the shirt and punch him square in the face. "Get the fuck out of here, asshole, before I call the police." He drags Marc to the floor where he drops, half-naked, and wipes the blood off the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You'll be sorry." He whispers. Isco kneels beside him and looks like he's about to rip his throat out. "No, you're the one who's gonna be sorry if you don't get your perverted little ass out of here right now because I swear to God I will beat you senseless." He takes his clothes from the floor and, half naked, looks ridiculously defenseless as he hurriedly runs off.

Isco leaps to close the door and takes off the plaid shirt he has over his plain white t-shirt so I can put it over my nearly-naked torso. He looks at me with a sorry look in his eyes. I slip off the covers and Isco looks away because, even though he's already seen everything, he knows I've just gone through a terrible experience in that respect.

Truthfully, I do feel a little embarassed as I slip off my ripped shirt and put his on. I'm still sniffling as Isco takes the bundle with my pants and underwear from the ground to give them to me. I put them back on and he's still looking away. When I finish, I say softly: "Hold me."

He sits on my bed, props his back against the wall and opens his arms, inviting me in. I crawl to him and wrap my arms around his neck as he cradles me. Now that I feel safe, I start crying like a madwoman, my body shaking heavily. "Oh, Isco. I was so scared. If it wasn't for you, he would've done it." "Sh. Don't think about that. I'm here and I love you." I clutch his shirt and cuddle closer to him, burying my tear-drenched face in his chest.