METANOIA - A Martin Garrix Fanfiction

Amsterdam

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"Are you sure?" he asked me for the thousandth time. I started to groan but realized it wouldn't help with anything.

"Yes, Martin, please. If you think you can make me change my mind by asking it again and again then you're much stupider than I thought." I slung my bag over one shoulder, prepared for our flight out of Ibiza. But when I turned around, the worry etched on every inch of his expression, every jade and grey of his eyes, was almost too much to bear. "Listen, I'm okay, alright? You don't have to worry about it."

"You were shaking like crazy shit, Maia. And you're taking some strong tranquilizer. That seems like something to very much worry about."

My hand reached out to touch him, but stopped midway and held my bag instead. I didn't miss that Martin stole a glance at it. Staying still came easy to me this time, but easing your muscles and your heart are two different things, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could take his eyes until my heart broke my ribs.

"I'm gonna be okay, Martijn." I told him carefully, confidently. "But you have to promise me not to tell Reu, too."

"Will not telling Reu help?"

"Much more than telling him," I lied.

He closed the space between us and took my hand in his like he did last night, examining it like his life depended on it. I took the moment to study the frigid set of his shoulders, the slope of his back where his spine was, his shoulder blades jutting out like wanting to spread phantom wings. He said, "Please just promise me you'll be okay."

He was scared, I realized now, and my heart melted and jumped to my throat at the same time. It was agonizing. "I promise."

"Okay then, I won't tell." He let go of my hands, put his in his pockets. "But if something worse ever happen again I will."

"What!" I poured playfulness to my voice. "Not fair! It's not like I can control my dreams, you know. Not like I can control yours."

"You do not control my dreams,"

"Aw, look at that. Yes I do, Martha. In fact, I have a record of every time you dream of me."

I saw the concern melt from his face when I mentioned his name for me, and gratefulness never tasted so sweet.

He said, "I guess that has a bit of truth in it."

My ears were burning, and that gave me an idea. As we walked out of the room to join Reuben outside, I pull my hair up to tie it on top of my head, the tips brushing at my elbow. "Remember when I told you what it takes to make me blush? I lied. It doesn't take time and patience. It takes forever, because my face doesn't flush. But my ears do."

I tapped at one of it for emphasis and immediately put my earphones on before he could tease me. No music was playing, so I pulled out my phone and played the music at random. When I gave him a sideways glance, he was smirking and talking something, his hands animating the topic. I grinned back at him and ran.

-

"So when are you going to America?" I asked to Martin.

We were having a FaceTime conference and I wished for the hundredth time that Maia would show. But my heart was troubled at the fact that she would have to press her face with Martin's if she were to talk to me, unless she took his phone.