Marked

Chapter 5

        "So you're and only child, you have good taste when it comes to books, your favorite color is blue, which is very rare for a girl, a feminist" he said, piecing together whatever information he had been able to squeeze out of me in the past ten minutes, "so far you are not that bad".

        "As opposed to..." I began, but then thought of it as unimportant, "never mind, ok so far it's been all about me but I don't even know your name, lets talk about you".

        He was enchanting in every way, I had never looked at a guy in this light before, I felt fascinated by how the words he said escaped his mouth in a lively deep voice, the way he walked as if he were barely scraping the ground, how he would run his fingers through his jet black hair but most of all he made me feel like the only person in the room, which in this case was adequate.

        We were walking around the borders of the house, on the other end of the party, the music barely perceptible but still present in a faint noise. I would run my hands on the rough cream-colored walls, there were antique black street-like lamp posts that casted a deep yellow colored light, the brightness barely there, producing various patches of plain darkness.

        His hand was still in mine and I mentally thanked the heavens that I hadn't embarrassed myself yet. I felt bold, yet safe. Untouchable.

        "Well, now that you ask, my name is Marcus, only child as well, I like sports, but I also read for leisure, I own a pet dog, name's Bernie and he is a Labrador.  And well, that is all I can say at the top of my head"

        "I kind of saw you as a pet person you know"

        "Oh yeah? What else did you assume by sight?"

        "Well, I saw you as the prom king type of guy, with one too many fans, sporty, team captain but not an airheaded dumb ass. You are smart, I can tell but you also had a habit of making bad decisions". Words came out of me in a blur I didn't even notice it. Somehow it felt like reading a book, the book of his life but it could all be a mere assumption, some random guess.

        His hand was still in mine as I spoke, I felt sparks, lovely little sparks all over me as if his touch allowed a part of him into me in a way that only I could understand, a secret message that hid every single layer of his being.

        When I ended my little description I looked down to the floor and then back up at him, searching for a reaction, he let go of my hand with a smug look on his face leaving me aching for his touch.

        "Wow that was accurate" Marcus said, "scary accurate, not sure about the decision making though, I mean I did ask you to dance with me" he sounded so cheesy, so darn sweet and instead of hating it like I normally did, it was the complete opposite, I loved it, bit by bit.

        "Well" I said, the feeling of emptiness now that his hand was gone had heightened, "I could always be wrong".

        After that everything happened so fast, but also in slow motion, he took a step and then another until he was inches away, his scent floated around the atmosphere, soap, sweat and mint. He took my hand in his and looked at me in the eyes, I could feel my knees threatening to weaken but somehow I managed to keep on standing by resting my back to a wall.

        Marcus was getting closer, his sight never leaving my eyes, his hands moved to my waist and then every single thought I had evaporated into thin air the moment his lips crashed into mine.

        For a second I stood there motionless and stiff, I had no idea what of what I should do and somehow it felt like dancing. I was standing in strange waters, but then I let go and I allowed myself to be driven by the music and it was the same thing here. His lips were soft against mine, it all started slow but then the intensity grew, he was now closer than he ever was before and I didn't mind, I wanted him here.