Authors Note*
It kills me writing a potential love story... They make me uncomfortable, I said potential, POTENTIAL! Oh my god I hope I don't turn into a cheesy writer. Mann this hurts, I hate making Marshall the villain.
*************************************
I ran, that's all I could do, headed
straight for the bathroom. I swung
open the bathroom stall and put the
seat down and sank down on the closed
seat, and brought my knees to my chest
and closed my eyes and sighed. I
shouldn't care, it doesn't matter I can
do this professionally. I shouldn't care
about him or spend my time thinking
about the douche. I need to move on
sell him the track get through that
damned lunch. alrighty then, I can do
this I chanted under my breath. I got
this! I heard the bathroom door open, I
didn't make anything of it. I got up and
flushed the toilet didn't want the
person in the bathroom think that I
had no manners even if I didn't use it.
they don't know that. I sighed while
opening the door and headed straight
to the sink of the bathroom. I gazed at
my reflection in the bathroom. WAIT,
WHAT?! why are there cubicles
southwest of me? (wtf southwest, smh)
before I could voice my opinion out
loud, I heard a sneeze and I followed
the sound and came face to face to my
reason of being in here. "What the hell
are you doing in here?!" I exclaimed
frantically. "No bless you then?"
Marshall cocked his head and looked at
me through lazily eyes. That look
stopped my mouth from forming
words. I stared at him mouth half open.
He sighed and rolled his eyes "you're in
the Men's restroom, hence the cubicle."
he said reaching for the soap. "do you
mind" he stared pointedly at the sink.
"oh, shoot sorry" I mumbled giving him
space. He just nodded and started
rinsing his hands. I stood there
watching unable to move. "So I guess
you spend a lot of time in the men's
bathroom." He says casually over his
shoulder.
"WHAT!? NO I-" I shriek.
"Relax I'm just messing." He chuckled.
I froze, his laugh was the most
remarkable sound ever to reach my
ears. Holy crap, stop thinking that,
you're not supposed to think that!
"Think what?" He asks with an
adorable confused look on his face.
"You spoke you're thoughts again."
He says casually. Damn it, this is bad,
I need a crash course in being discrete.
"Nothing!" I manage to say abruptly.
He turns to me and gives me a quizzical
Look and strokes an imaginary beard.
My eyes immediately go to the tribal
Tattoo circling his wrist.
"I think I remember you..."
No way.
YOU ARE READING
That Hurts...( Eminem Fan Fic)
FanfictionWhen the one person you idolized hurts you, will you hold it against them for many years to come?