My hair is down, slightly curled, and fanning around my face. My liner is a bit more intricate, with an emerald eyeshadow that’s much more vibrant than my normal vibe, along with a bright sapphire on my lips. It’s a bit more dramatic than I’m used to, but I feel it’s safe to say I’m using the vibrant makeup and perfect styling to hide behind. After recent events, I think that’s completely fair usage.
I’m wearing a sheer sapphire top to match my lips, with a deep scoop in the front that leaves little to the imagination. Adding to the ‘hiding in plain sight’ effect is the distracting assortment of chains andscarves around my neck, some short enough to be chokers, others long enough to reach my navel. To cap the look, I’ve got a long, poofy emerald skirt with pickups that end everywhere from high thigh to midcalf, along with my favorite pair of black boots.
Tristan, Marcus, and Qi are waiting for me when I finally come down. Marcus’s eyes take me in with appreciation, like they always do, and I can’t help but take him in too.
He’s ridiculously handsome in a tight-fitting black shirt that’s tucked into a pair of low-riding jeans and topped off with a cream-colored button-up that he’s left undone. He’s got his dreads pulled back from his face, his shirt hugging the curve of his muscles blatantly, and his jeans showing off his gorgeous ass.
For a minute, my brain goes on a rather dangerous detour while taking in the obvious curve of his perfect ass. He once made a comment about not caring who penetrates who, and I wonder if he actually meant that. I can’t even imagine how amazing an ass like that would feel on my dick.
I’ve always been a vers, but with my size and sense of style, people have always just assumed that I’m a bottom. Which, don’t get me wrong, Iloveto bottom. But the assumption is that I’monlya bottom. I never really understood it either because I’ve disappeared in a bedroom with just as many women as I have men, which means my dick is as often a penetrator as my ass is a penetratee.
I mean, I guess there’s pegging too, and it’s not like I haven’t been with women who are into that as well, but still, I feel like the assumption that my dick likes to get into the action shouldn’t be as quickly discarded as it is.
And honestly, when all things are said and done, my dick tends to get more action with girls anyway, because dick-in-ass action usually takes too much time, trust, and prep for most hook-ups. Obviously, it happens sometimes, but it’s more for the pre-planned hook-ups I find through apps, rather than for randomly sneaking into a back bedroom at a frat party hook-up.
Not that I’ve done any of that for months now anyway. And none of these thoughts should exist anywhere in my mind, especially withwhat I know I have to say to him tonight. I’d almost whine at how gorgeous he’dhaveto look right before shooting any chance between us down, but then again, is there ever a time when he isn’t naturally gorgeous?
“Was it your intention?” Marcus asks, his words drawing my attention away from his mouthwatering ass and up to his bright eyes.
“Was what my intention?” I ask, the words fighting their way up through the desert of my dry throat. He makes me so damn thirsty, but he’s the absolute last person who needs to know that.
“To make my heart race so fast it stopped,” he lays down the corniest line with a straight face. His words, corny as fuck as they are, hit their target with unerring precision.
Tristan lets out an amused scoff and shakes his head as he turns towards Qi, who lets out a small giggle at Marcus’s shameless line. And me? I don’t think I’ve ever had to fight so hard to hold back a smile.
It’s so ridiculously cheesy that I don’t know how he has the gall to say things like that out loud, with his whole chest, and with that unwaveringly confident smile on his face. Even more puzzling is that despite the cheesiness, it never fails to make my heart thump so forcefully in my chest that I can feel the vibration all the way down to my toes.
The last few days, I’ve been cold and aloof around Marcus. I’ve spent most of it in my room or in classes; the few times I’ve seen him at all, I’ve just shuffled around him lifelessly until I could justify disappearing back into my cave.
I haven’t offered him any information, and he hasn’t said much beyond just making sure I’m okay and letting me know that he’s there if I need anything. And I know he means that; I can feel his eyes on me. His concern is always there up front and center, and Iwantthat.
Iknowthat I want that now. I can’t deny it when the veracity of that knowledge made itself so completely clear the day Kingston showed up and sent me into a mental tailspin. I’d been fighting it so hard because I was so afraid that history would repeat itself; that I’d give away my heart only to have it trampled and spit on again. Andnow, in hindsight, I can see all the clues, the many lights in Marcus that never existed in Kingston. I know they aren’t the same, but it can’t be a coincidence that the first time I start to give in to a dream, my worst nightmare comes blaring through to obliterate it.
It’s not even about knowing better or being scared that Marcus will do me like Kingston did, because I know he won’t. But I can’t give him what he deserves. I’m so afraid of reliving a pain even remotely similar to the one I’ve lived through that I can’t let go of the pieces of me that Marcus deserves the most.
I’m weak, completely shamefaced, not even capable of moving past a cruel liar, and that’s before even revealing thewholestory. That’s the husk I am, and I’m so unworthy of Marcus’s affections, it’s a crime against nature to even entertain the idea of giving in to them.
So as much as I love his eyes on me, as much as I wish they’dalwaysbe on me, I have to end this. I have to make him understand that he needs to move on to someone healthier than the shitshow that is me.
I look up and meet Qi’s eyes. “You guys go on ahead, we’ll be out in a second,” I tell him.
Qi’s lips immediately dip down into a frown. He takes me in, and I can tell he knows what I’m about to do, and I can just as easily tell he completely disagrees with me. I’ve never known a time when the two of us were so wholly out of sync, but I need to do this. He must see the resolution on my face because he shakes his head slightly before letting out a frustrated huff.
“Hypocrisy is not a good look for you, Qiang,” he says with a meaningful look before grabbing Tristan’s arm and walking out the front door.
I groan inwardly at the reminder of the conversation we had when he was on the fence about Tristan. He was so scared he wouldn’t be enough for him, and I could sense my brother was thinking about turning Tristan down against his better wishes because he felt he wasn’t good enough for Tristan. I very specifically told him not to do that, that it’s the most selfish way a person can self-sacrifice because all it does is hurt everyone for no reason.
I get the parallels between that conversation and my resolution to end this with Marcus now, but there’s one massive difference between the two scenarios. My brother is a completely whole and amazing person with everything in the world to offer; I’m a fucking shell incapable of even making myself happy. Taking what he wanted made everyone happy. Taking whatIwant would be the exact opposite.
Marcus raises a curious eyebrow at the comment, his mouth also dipping down into a frown, likely taking in the unhappy tension for the bad news that it is. Once the door closes behind Tristan and Qi, I take a deep breath and face Marcus.
“Marcus–” I start to say, but he immediately cuts me off, stepping into my space with eyes so compassionate that they make me want to throw myself into his arms and just be held.
Like he could hold me and comfort me in a way no one else would, that for once, in his arms, I might finally be free from the hellish thoughts in my head. I look away from them before I can do anything so cataclysmically stupid and remind myself of the point of this conversation.
“Okay,” he says with that same compassionate kindness that makes a dull ache creep all the way through me.
I swallow hard, fighting desperately for the will to argue back with him when what he said settles in my skull and confuses me with the ambiguity of it.
