Macha Levay-Fitzgilbert (Bassist of Blonde Ivory)
I pull off the sleeves of my sweater and wrap my arms tightly around my abdomen. The cold chill of the winter, San Franciscan breeze still leaves me frigid, but I ignore it for the time being. Marco doesn't say anything until we've made it deep into the city, and peaceful music from some shops fill the background with something other than awkward silence.
"Can you say something now? We've been walking for hours." I groan. He snickers lowly.
"Hours... More like ten minutes." I glance at him through watery eyes, but he doesn't look back at me. He keeps his gaze forward.
He slows his pace but doesn't stop. I glance down at our feet, our footsteps in sync before I notice how close our hands are. The temptation I feel to grab it and kiss it gently or to simply hold it is almost unbearable. I gently trace my fingers over his palm, and he pretends not to notice.
"Macha..." He finally speaks. I look up at him and he stops in his tracks. We're standing a few feet away from an Abercrombie and the perfume smell is intoxicating. The music is also quite catchy, but I've never heard it before.
"Let's just get this over with, okay, because I'm so tired of going back and forth with you. You either want to be with me the way I want to be with you or you get sick to your stomach at the thought of being with me. Let's also quickly add on the fact that I had sex with my ex-boyfriend after you dropped me off." I snap. He looks deeply into my eyes, but remains silent. "Come on. Let's hear it, Baguette Boy. You either want me or you don't."
My heartbeat throbs in my ears. Time stands still. He shakes his head and places a light kiss on my forehead. I'm sure the face I make gives him the wrong idea: a mixture of disgust and confusion. That isn't how I feel at all. I want him. I hope he can see that despite my lack of correct expression. His small smile falls and he tries to cover it up with a quick, awkward laugh.
"Uhm. Well, things have gotten a tad more complicated, haven't they?" He refuses to meet my gaze as he looks around at our surroundings. "There's quite a few circumstances we have to take into consideration now, isn't there?" I snort.
"Like what?" I roll my eyes at how clingy my voice sounds, and I hope he doesn't notice it. "My age or that I had sex with someone else?"
"Both. Neither of which I can change." He sighs. He grabs my hand and looks down at it as he traces the lines along my palm and the creases along my fingers. "Why did you do it?"
I pull back and cross my arms to my chest. "What do you mean why? You rejected me and told me that we couldn't be together anymore and that you regretted everything we ever did and that it was all a mistake and you thought you were taking advantage of me. Obviously I was under the impression that we were never going to see each other again and obviously I wanted to hurt you for tearing me to shreds." I explain. My throat tightens as the words spill out.
"Well, we've both hurt each other now. Surely that means there's a clean slate and we're even. We don't have to hurt each other anymore. We can just be together." I glance up at him, expecting to see a humorous and sarcastic expression. There isn't one. So why am I not taking him seriously? "Under one condition, of course." I narrow my eyes.
"What's that?" I stand on my tippy-toes and edge my lips closer to his.
"Tell me you don't have feelings for him; Kasey's brother. Tell me having sex with him was a mistake and that you don't see him the way you see me." I shrug my shoulders and plop a gentle kiss on his cheek.
YOU ARE READING
Blonde Ivory
Teen Fiction**TRIGGER WARNING** Many triggering elements (including, self-harm, depression, amongst many other things) Four girls have made their dream come true: Be in a renowned band. However, it doesn't take them long to realize that being in the starlight i...
