MARIEL

10~ You're Hurting Me ~

It was just after 5am, and the morning air nipped his face. Shivering in his sweatshirt, Mariel tapped his knuckles against the old, alley door to the bookstore. His mouth was dry, and his heart thudded with the insistent reminder that he was nervous.

He supposed it made sense. When Mariel had departed last time, it had not been on the best of terms. Given time to think about it, he realized that he had not been fair, and he felt humiliated by his own actions.

After his father's helpful purchase of a new phone, Mariel had texted Esther. He had apologized, pleading for her forgiveness. Finally, hours later, she had responded, and the text had been simple.

'I want to see you.'

And, they had set the time. Esther had said it would be easier to meet before school. If questioned, she could claim an early workout in the city.

Mariel struck the door again, this time with the hammer-side of his fist. As he waited, he heard a car accelerate in the distance. Then, he heard the click of the door latch as it turned on the other side. He thrust his hands into his pockets and inhaled his breath. Held it.

The door swung inward, and Esther stood in the doorway. "Hey."

Behind her, the bookstore was dark, but the restroom light gleamed in the hallway and cast a glow upon her face. Her loose ponytail fell over her right shoulder, and he couldn't help but settle his eyes on the black tank top -

- 'University of Illinois Athletics' -

- that enclosed those full breasts he had not stopped thinking about since their last night together. They rose and fell, drawing in his gaze, and his mouth increasingly became more dry.

"Mars. Are you going to come in or stare at my tits all morning?"

He started, looked up, and stuttered. "I'm sorry. Really sorry."

Esther eyed him and stepped aside, allowed him to pass.

As he walked past her, Mariel glanced around the hallway and grinned. "No knives this time, right? Gun?"

Esther locked the door and came up to him. Quietly, she reached for his hand. "How is it?"

"It's healing. It's a little itchy."

"Has anyone asked about it?"

"Dad tried to, but I told him not to worry about it." Mariel looked down at her, molded his eyes with hers in the soft glow of the restroom light. "Hey," he said, softly, and brushed his fingers against her hair. "I'm sorry, Esther."

"It's fine, Mars."

"No, really. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I had no right." He rested his palm against her cheek, and he shivered as Esther closed her eyes and rubbed the side of her face against his hand. "I was selfish. Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

She traced his fingers with her own and let out a soft breath. "Come cuddle me on the couch and let's talk."

In the darkness, they sat close together. Bringing his arms around her, Mariel leaned back and rested his legs on the coffee table. Esther curled on the couch as she buried her head into his chest. For several moments, they sat in the dark, quiet morning, listening to the sound of each other's soft breathing.

"So," Mariel said, softly. "How are you?"

"As well as you can expect. I guess I'm not accustomed to people returning from the dead, you know."

"Understandable."

Silence.

Mariel leaned closer, buried his face against the top of her head. Smelled the sweet fumes of her shampoo. It still felt surreal that she was in his arms. He could only imagine how Esther felt. As his thumbs brushed the skin of her bare arms, and he stared unashamedly at the soft cleavage her tank top exposed, he whispered to her. "I love you so much."