marked.

Embrace It.

Another day. Another story. Am I suddenly the author?

I was finally alone in my apartment today; Sam was hanging out with Sean, my mom working... I finally had peace.

Then, the buzzer near the front door became vocal.

I press the speaker button: "Who?" I waited for a response as I switched the button from speak to listen.

"Marco."

My heart did a small leap. Instead of replying, I simply moved my finger over to the button that opened the secured door. I waited just outside my apartment door as Marco's soft footsteps worked its way up the stairs. I watched him leap to skip a step, and his emerald eyes finally met my chromatic brown. He sighed softly as he limped over to me.

"Hey."

"Hello," I reply.

I am not aware of the sudden awkwardness, but the tension surely lingered. Instead of reacting to it, I had more of a reaction to the sudden embrace Marco wrapped me in. His inked arms chained itself together around my whole body, and I stood there, dumbfounded. I wasn't sure of why he did that, but I didn't deny the grasp either; eventually my arms made its way around his waist, and I held on. I couldn't remember the last time I truly hugged someone, and I mean truly hugged them. I'm so used to keeping to myself that I forgot simple pleasures in life; I pushed away my feelings so hard that I forgot what they felt like. I even forgot what a hug felt like.

I led him to the kitchen, where he sat on a stool and allowed his still-broken leg to swing carelessly in the air. I leaned my body against the counter as I watched Marco fiddle with his nails absentmindedly. Although all physical signs pointed to his nervous behavior, Marco remained calm.

"So..." He said, practically dragging.

I got irritated quickly. "How's Jayson?" I ask bluntly.

Marco shifted in his part of the seat. "That's the problem... I don't know how he's been." I raise my eyebrow as Marco takes a deafening sigh. "Usually, he calls once a week... I haven't heard from him since he left..." Marco's eyes colored itself with a dark exhaustion, as if he hadn't had much sleep in the past couple of days; in fact, he sort of looks like me on my constant sleepless nights. "Jay hasn't answered any of my texts, phone calls, even my emails. My uncle, being the man that he is, is on his way over to New York now to see how he's doing; make sure he's okay."

"Why so worried?" I ask.

"Look, Jayson's an asswhole. No doubt in my mind," he huffed. "But the one thing he doesn't mess around with is keeping tabs on family. Especially, me."

Marco wasn't wrong: Jayson's cold heart only had one warm spot; and it belonged to his family's wellbeing. But whatever's been happening lately, it didn't seem like his nature. "So what happens now?"

Marco shrugs, reminded of his worry. "We wait... Wait until my uncle gets there and see what the hell is going on, and we go from there."

I only nod. What more can I give him? Jayson is very unpredictable, so when it comes to his own wellbeing, it is something often questioned. I knew Jayson for a long time, and his habits of disappearing and stupid acts only progressed with the years that I knew him. I looked over at Marco; I couldn't comfort him, couldn't tell him everything is going to be alright... How am I supposed to convince somebody of that where I don't believe it myself?

"Dani..." He started.

I look up from my intense stare at the couch and scrunch my nose. "Yeah?"

"Jayson said something about your name... You know, before he left." My heart started beating faster. "Your last name isn't Shay, is it? V-Velez?" He looked up at me, with wide eyes of confusion.

I sighed heavily. No one was supposed to know about that. But I was caught, like a deer in headlights, I was stuck. I fantasizes about lying to him, but I knew that was the intelligent choice. "No," I huffed. "Shay IS my last name... Just not my father's."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "You don't have you father's last name?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Got rid of it when I was five."

He just stared at me. I figured he was waiting for a response, so I continued: "He was in and out of my life, but at the early stages of the father situation, my mom decided to change my last name. Of course, my father didn't care much about the decisions made about me, so he signed the papers, allowing her to change it. I never told anybody, except Jayson; and I would use the last name for every mural artwork I did in New York... It was a name used so no one knew it was me who did the murals, except for the people who hired me to do them."

"What happened to your father?" He asked, now curious. "You never talked about him until now."

"I never had a reason to," I replied. "When I was about 11, he was killed in a car crash a couple blocks from my apartment. Apparently, he was on his way to see me, but didn't make it otherwise."

Marco stood quiet after that. He sat on the couch with his eyes glued to the coffee table, deep in thought. I didn't mean to spring this information on him, but his curiosity desired otherwise. Never would anybody know about his story unless you already knew, or you witnessed it firsthand; it was a story kept hidden and locked up in a cage, deep in my ramble of thoughts. I wouldn't dare get emotional for him, but the story about his demise was always a trigger to the brain.

"Dani?" He asked, still looking in space.

"Yeah?"

Instead of sitting down, he stood from his chair. Marco's eyes locked onto mine, and I notice his breathing steady. He takes a few moments to gather his thoughts as he slowly makes his way over to me. I didn't feel my grip getting stronger until an aching pain raced through my knuckles. After about five steps, he was then standing directly in front of me, his tall 6 feet, 2 inches hovering over me. Marco made his hand slowly rise up to my face, and it caressed my cheek. I could feel them getting warmer, for a deep blush was trying to force its way through my tough barriers. I could feel his warm, honeysuckle breath slowly breathing as his other hand made its way to my waist. Marco wastes no time, as his head lowers closer to my face, and he holds me close. I feel his lips against mine, and we kiss for a such a significant moment that I forgot the meaning of time. I kiss back, and I find my hand touching his face, wanting to feel his touch. It was a soft, light kiss, and eventually he lets go.

He just looked at me for a long time, taking a few moments to gather his thoughts; but he only says three words. "I love you." It was in such a soft whisper, that no one near would be able to hear it.

But something goes off in my head. It's some type of siren... I feel my heart skip a long beat, and I accidentally let my breathing get heavy. But instead of reacting more than I thought I would, I searched his eyes. His eyes never left mine, and he waited patiently for me to respond. He already knew the answer, but he was just waiting for me to grow the courage to say so.

Eventually I did.

I embraced it.

"I love you."