Forever With Me《Marcelee》

Chapter 43

(MARSHALL'S POV)

The night was cold. Cool breeze brushed my skin as I stood, leaning my back against the tree where I pinned the note. She's been here, she read the note and she took it.

My thoughts wandered aimlessly as I waited for her. I don't know if she's coming. I don't know what runs through her head now. When she saw me, she was acting like she didn't know me.

She's still Marcy though. That behavior, the way she talked. It was still her. I wonder what happened during the several weeks we weren't together. What happened after the accident?

Faint sounds could be heard and I shot my head up attentively. She came. I was in unfathomable beatitude the moment we locked gaze.

Slowly, she floated over to me. I floated towards her to meet her halfway, her guitar in my hand. We stopped about a couple of feet from each other. She instantly reached for the guitar and I quickly moved it away from her.

"Dude, give me it!" She fumed. She reached again, and I moved it away again. "I'm not here to play games with you!" She was still acting like she doesn't know me.

For the third time, she reached and I moved. "What the f■ck is your deal?!" She hissed. I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, my other arm, holding the guitar, stretched back away from her. Now our faces were only an inch from each other. "We need to talk," I stated casually.

"I have no time for chit-chats. Give it back, I need it," she hissed, staring into my eyes.

"You need it? Then here's the deal. We talk, then I'll give it to you after. If you're not talking to me then I'll break it in half," I stipulated sternly.

She groaned. "Fine," she said bitterly.

"Why did you buy this anyway? You-"

"I didn't. My husband did," she argued. Husband? She mentioned about a husband when we met the last time.

"Marcy, what are you talking about?"

"Here you go again with this Marcy chick," she scoffed as she floated off and sat on the ground blanketed by leaves. "I said I'm not Marcy. I don't know her. My name is Erin. You got the wrong person."

"But I don't," I countered. She looked at me, and I looked at her. I sat beside her, not breaking our line of sight.

"I don't understand what's going on, or why you're acting like this. And I need to know why. I have a lot to ask and no one's leaving unless all my questions are answered."

"That's too-"

"It's okay, I've got all night," I cut her off. She seems like she doesn't.

"Okay fine. What do you want?"

I stared at the ground.

"Who the f■ck is that husband you're talking about?"

"Okay, here's my stipulation, we're not talking about my husband," she sassed. "Anything but that question."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Another question about him and I'm not talking," she crossed her arms.

"Then say goodbye to your guitar-"

"Wait!" She stopped me before I could even position the guitar on my lap. "Just, skip that question."

"Fine. Who told you your name's Erin?"

"My husband did."

"My husband did," I mocked. Who on earth is he? I swear...

"But you're not Erin. Your name's Marceline."