love bites » marcelee.

30: Aftermath

Chapter Thirty: Aftermath

Marceline felt like she was going to die. The place on her skin where Ash had touched her felt like it was on fire. She had to cool down. A shower. Yes, that's what she needed. In a rush she ran towards the bathroom but instead collided with the door frame. Her brows furrowed as she slid down the wall.

She was still wearing her boots. She yanked at them, not bothering to untie the laces and threw them across her room. She tore at her clothes (or lack thereof), her jeans and leather jacket falling to the floor. Scrambling to her feet, she lurched into the bathroom and locked the door, the bright-white tiles hurting her eyes as she fumbled with the light-switch. She wrenched the cold tap on and got into the shower.

The relief was instant. The freezing cold water ran over Marceline's skin. She sat upright on the floor and leaned against the tiled wall, bringing her knees up in front of her so she could rest her arms on them. She rubbed her arms that Ash had gripped onto earlier. The uncomfortable, sickly feeling had almost abated. She leaned her head back against the tiles and closed her eyes as the water continued to pour over her, soothing her skin.

Meanwhile, outside, Marshall Lee's hand hesitated on the handle. When he had sent his girlfriend home, she made a pretty speedy departure earlier and he knew she'd retreated to her bedroom. Debating in his mind again, he raked his hand through his black hair, manned up and barged in.

Marceline was nowhere to be seen. He made his way to the bed and cursed as he nearly tripped over something. Feeling like an idiot, he sat down and brought up one of her boots? What the hell? His eyes shifted towards the only other door. He could hear the water running in the shower. He waited for what seemed like the longest of time in concern for her.

And then the door to the bathroom opened and she stepped out.

Barely covered in a white towel with her wet hair snaking down her back, Marceline looked more vulnerable to Marshall than before. She clutched the cloth to her with one hand and rubbed her arm with her other. When she finally lifted her chin and looked him in the eye, he stopped breathing altogether. Her dark green eyes glowed a brilliant emerald and her breath hitched as she looked at him.

"Marshall, I..." her voice broke, but she tried again. "I-I need..."

Marshall was in front of Marceline in two strides, his arms pulling her to him. She shook as she leant into him, her breath uneven. He nuzzled her neck and that scent of hers enveloped him.

"I'll wait outside." he spoke before leaving her in the privacy of her own room.

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Marshall sat on the chair, looking at an uncommunicative Marceline stare out through the window while holding an ice pack to her face. The long length of her eyelashes swept down, casting shadows over her cheeks as he gazed at his hands. "Who was he? I know he's the same guy we saw at Rob's bar, but what did he want from you?"

She swallowed hard, backing up until she plopped onto the bed. She knew he was going to ask her that. He had propped his elbows on his knees and was watching her. Waiting for an answer. However, he sensed her reluctance to talk about it. Without a word, he stood and closed the small distance between them. He knelt in front of her and splayed his hands over her knees.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he apologized again that night, like a broken record playing over and over. They were nose-to-nose, and their breath mingled together. "It's fine if you don't wanna talk about it."

Marceline set the ice pack down and closed her eyes, jaded. "I'm just...really tired." she said on a wispy catch of breath.

"Do you wanna call your Dad?" he asked and her eyes widened at that suggestion.

She shook her head. "No. He doesn't need to know. I-I'm fine now. I just...need to sleep on it."

"I'll stay with you." he insisted.

Marshall switched off the lights then removed his clothing, leaving him in only his boxer shorts. He went to the other side of the bed and got in, staying close to Marceline. She had her back facing him and he badly wanted her to talk to him or at least not completely ignore his presence, but he knew better that she had been through a lot and needed time to recover.

"It was Ash," she broke the silence, turning to him so he could look into those green eyes that he adored so much. "He's...my ex."

Marshall shushed Marceline with a finger to her lips. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, alright? Just try to get some sleep."

She nodded and closed her eyes, letting the darkness envelope her.

"Marcy."

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Stop saying sorry. It wasn't your fault."

"But-"

"It's fine, Mars. You can shut up now." Marceline whispered back then snuggled into Marshall's body as he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.