Eminem Fan Fiction Shorts II

Marshall's Game

Forty minutes after I left Cat's place, a delivery guy was dropping off chicken parmigiana, salad, bread sticks, and a chocolate dessert of some kind. I'd told the guy on the phone when I'd ordered the food to pick something that would travel well and still seem like some effort went into it. As I laid out the food and put the final touches to the table, I had to admit that he'd done a decent job.

A knock came to the door just as I was finishing up and I wandered over and opened the door to a fucking vision. Cat stood before me in a soft looking, swirly purple dress that matched her eyes. She smelled like some kind of tropical flower combination, her long hair still slightly wet from her shower. She'd even gone as far as putting on makeup. As I stared at her, heat flushed my system. She was gorgeous in baggy sweats with her hair a mess. Like this, she was a goddamn goddess.

"I can't drink, so I brought us some tea." She said, smiling softly and holding a pitcher up. I nodded as I stepped aside so she could enter. I swallowed hard, watching the sway of the skirt of her dress as she moved. I wanted to run my hands over those thighs in the worst fucking way.

She walked forward, sniffing the air and letting her nose take her to the dining room. When she got to the entryway, she stopped and looked at me over her shoulder.

"Candles, too?" Cat asked, her voice amused. "You are trying to show me something." She teased and I took the pitcher from her and set it on the hall table as I moved behind her. Fuck being subtle, I wanted to touch her.

I slid my arms around her waist from behind and shifted her hair aside with my chin before placing a soft kiss on the top of her shoulder. She shivered against me, bringing a smile to my face as I continued to nibble at her skin. She tilted her head, inviting me to taste it. I'd be a poor host if I denied her, right?

"You don't play fair, Marshall." Cat said, her voice a little breathy. I nipped at her ear, speaking into it a moment later.

"What makes you think I'm playing?" I asked.

She had no reason to know it, but I knew that I'd been thinking about her near nonstop since the first day we spoke. I'd given her no hints that would cause her to suspect my stalkerish behavior as I wondered about her whereabouts in the evenings. Her confidence, her continued good nature when I saw her, the way she moved, the little pieces that make up how a person is when they think no one is watching - all of it had sucked me in.

"Of course you're running game," Cat said as she moved out of my grasp with a smile. "Now, are you going to feed me that wonderful smelling meal, or just torture me with it?" She asked.

I frowned a little, wanting to clear the air, but I went over and pulled out a chair for her instead. I had no idea if her belief was specific to me, or if it were a general suspicion relating to men. They only way I was going to convince her to give me the time of day, though, was to prove to her that I wasn't just looking for a fuck. The best way to do that, I was sure, was to do as she'd asked:  I had to show her.

"How'd you get into fighting?" I asked as I sat and she smiled.

"Accidentally, really." Cat said, the teasing light flickering in her eyes once more. I looked at her in question and she continued. "I was a hothead as a teen and got on the wrong side of a fight with a couple of girls. I made it out of the scrap, but my trainer saw the whole thing and thought I had potential. He convinced my parents to let me give it a shot and now, here I am."

"Why do you still do it?" I asked and she looked at her plate before she answered.

"It clears my mind. When I'm in that cage, I don't hear anything; I don't see the audience. All of my focus pinpoints on my opponent. I don't have doubt, or fear, or pain, or sadness. I just have the fight." She said, looking up into my eyes. "For the brief time I'm fighting, nothing can touch me." She smirked.

"Except, of course, the other fighter." She teased, pulling away from the sombre look that had taken over her face as she spoke. I nodded, though, understanding probably as well as any how sometimes you needed something that didn't make sense in order to make sense of the world.

We continued to talk and joke as the night progressed, the evening slipping away in easy conversation. Cat was funny and cocky, dry and practical and I found myself hypnotized by her purple eyes as she spoke. There was no doubt that I was attracted to what I saw, but as hours stacked on top of hours, I found her wit cinching invisible ropes around me. I could listen to her  for days and never tire of it. She was the sharp, pleasant bite of carbonation; the feel of a hot shower after you'd been out in the cold -  she left me feeling tingly in a way that was both uncomfortable and wonderful.

At one point, we moved into the living room and I put on some music as we sat on the couch and continued our evening. She slipped off her shoes and put them on my lap as she leaned against the cushions and asked me about my life. Oddly, I found myself answering her.

While my normal reaction is usually to be walled off, there was something about the way Cat responded to me, the way she watched me as I spoke, that left me wanting to tell her everything. I broke all the fucking cardinal rules of the first date, busting past them without even quite realizing I'd done it. We opened up the wounds of old loves and commiserated over the losses in our careers. We exchanged tales of betrayal and success.  We laughed and sighed and, still, we talked.

Deep into the night, I found myself with my head in her lap, spread out on the couch as she ran her hands over my head with soft fingertips. Our conversation had slowed to a pleasant crawl, silence stretching longer and longer between words as we just breathed the same air. Although she could leave at any time, neither one of us made a move to allow it to happen. Instead, I closed my eyes for moment as I enjoyed her touch, feeling warm, relaxed and at peace. I slipped away from consciousness, curling myself into her as sleep took over sometime in the early morning hours of the night.

As my mind blanked with my rest, I thought I heard her whisper good night.