All My Sins

A silk

~ next chapter will be up v soon <3

Mr. Mathers scent was embedded into the fabric of the hoodie. All day Maureen had the strong premonition of his presence close to her again. She needed to know what it was that he was going to need from her and at his place. Despite having been bold enough to tell him otherwise, she would not have been so quick to agree to helping him if she wasn't afraid of him. When Maureen walked into Mr. Mathers class for the last period of the day, she felt different. Mr. Mathers was wearing a pair of thin-rimmed, oval shaped glasses and just beginning to scribble illegibly onto a new piece of paper.

When she saw him, her mind immediately associated him with her home - her serenity. It was as if that untroubling calm had worn off on him, and she felt safer in his classroom, where he was, rather than in the hallway seas of her soulless peers. He did not call out her name during attendance, for he knew very well that she was there.

"You all know what you need to be doing. Chapter questionnaires are up here if you need them, and if you aren't ready to complete them, catch up on your reading."

Maureen kept looking to make eye contact with him, but he wouldn't grant it to her. He was too focused on whatever it was that he was writing. So Maureen put her head down. The previous night's lack of sleep was catching up to her. Now that her head was down and her face enclosed, she was completely encapsulated in his scent. It was soothing in a way. It brought her a sense of protection, and soon her mind plummeted into a dark place of sleep. When the bell rang, Marshall finally looked up from his paper to see a collection of empty desks. Just one was still occupied by Maureen, her head was down and body still. A gentler and almost paternal instinct made him hesitant to wake her up.

Once he gathered all of his things and was ready to go, he walked over to her desk and kneeled down beside her. He brought his hand to her back and softly ran his it up and down the material of his hoodie, where just a few inches beneath it, was her warm skin.

"Maureen..." He whispered and began to rub back and forth more insistently on her back. She groaned in her waking and stretched out her torso. Throwing caution to the wind, he pulled her body into his chest and held her tightly. He was surprised that she did not struggle. In fact, she nuzzled sweetly into his chest. He loved it.

"Ya gotta wake up, baby." Marshall whispered against the top of her hair.

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from him again, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and adjusting her hair back into place. Marshall picked her bookbag up from the floor, slipped it around his shoulder. Together, they walked out of school. Maureen was still muffled from sleeping and the warmth in his jacket cradled her on the threshold of rest.

"Just sit down in the back." Marshall ordered as he pulled a set of jumper cables from his trunk. Maureen laid down in the back seats of his car and strained to keep her eyes open to watch as he attempted to jump her car. He rolled his sleeves up and again revealed all of his body ink. The dark curves against his slightly tanned skin looked like they were always meant to be there.
When the cars were started, Maureen pulled herself out of his back seats and moved towards the driver's seat of her own car. It was cold inside from being dead for a whole day. Marshall couldn't help but be a little weary of her driving. Her eyelids hung heavily over her clouded, dark eyes.

"Are you okay to drive?" He asked.

"I'm fine."

"Alright uh... Be safe." Marshall let her close the door of her car and leave.

Maureen got halfway home when she realized that she never found out exactly what she was going to be doing for him. However, she felt in some way that she already knew what it was that he wanted from her. After all, what else could it have been?
Later, Maureen was settling down for the night. She was hoping to catch up on her sleep. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and the ceiling fan was contributing to the coolness of her head, which relaxed her. Just as Maureen had set a pillow behind her back to go to sleep, her Mother's yells echoed through the house: complaining about how terrible her day was, which eventually led to a rant about how terrible her entire life was. Jillian was drunk, Maureen could tell. In spite of the grown woman's drunken rage, Maureen could not help but feel sad as a child. If her Mother's life was that terrible, then she must have been a contribution to such a terrible life.
The only thing that she could do though was shrug it off and let her Mother's rage die out like the flame of a candle.