The change really started about three weeks into therapy when I started to just randomly break down over the most nonsensical reasons. Once it was seeing the way Tristan loves my brother and getting so overwhelmingly emotional over that, in the best way, of course, but I ended up in tears. And not quiet tears, but face in hand, ugly sobs, makeup everywhere, tears.
While Qi and Tristan kind of floundered trying to figure out what happened, it was Marcus wrapping his arms around me from behind and just letting me cry it out that eventually calmed me down.
It wasn’t the last time it happened, either, but it bridged a huge gap between us because it showed me how safe a space he really is.
That’s not to say he doesn’t still get flirty sometimes. I think it’stoo naturally a part of his personality for him to not be that way to some extent. But I’ve also watched him realize he’s taking it too far and bite his lip to stop. And there are still moments when that flare of heat hits his eyes as we go back and forth, but he keeps that to himself, too.
I know he’s doing that for me, and I’m not always entirely sure that I want him to hold back. But I know it’s necessary, and really, everything about Marcus and my feelings about him just fucking spins me in circles. And both helpfully and unhelpfully, knowing he cares enough to set his feelings aside to be there for me has gone and busted a wall down somewhere in my chest because that alarm that used to sound in the back of my head every time we got too close isn’t there anymore. It’s like my system has finally concluded that he’s safe.
Not that that changes anything. And it might be too late to change it anyway. Rumors are flying about him and Imani, and most of the time when I see him on campus, Imani is with him. A lot of that is at practices since she’s a cheerleader and he’s a football player, but they also have classes, and I see them studying together in the library quite frequently. He also sometimes meets her for dinner.
Marcus hasn’t explicitly said he’s dating Imani, and I haven’t asked. It’s not like I’m in a place where I should be thinking about this stuff anyway. I pushed him away with my whole chest, in the meanest way possible. Yeah, I apologized for being mean, but it doesn’t change the fact that I told him to stop. Now that he has, we’re easier friends, but there’s a visceral ache in my chest that’s existed since then that seems to only grow stronger with time.
Arguably, there could be nothing going on between him and Imani at all. Not that I should care, but as much as I remind myself of that, I really can’t help but care in the darkest, most private recesses of my mind. In all fairness, rumors are flying around about him and me, too, and we’re just friends and roommates.
Thing is, I’ve always loved to dance. Not like Qi does, but frat house and club dancefloors are some of my favorite vibes, and Marcus is a good dancer. Since we’ve gotten more comfortable around eachother, we’ve hit the dancefloor at more than one mixer over the last few weeks, and people have started to notice how close we are.
And it only adds fuel to the rumors that I’ve started showing up more often to meet him, Qi, and Tristan after practice because I’ve gotten into the habit of riding to campus with one of them in the morning. I really don’t like driving if I can avoid it, and with three other people in the house with licenses, getting away with being a passenger princess has been remarkably easy.
So he could be dating her, or they could just be friends. I don’t know, and I’m not really ready to know, especially since it’s been easier to be around him now than it was before, when my head was such a mess. And it really is still a mess, but I’ve been dealing, and the ‘breathing easier’ that Tristan had talked about when he pushed me to take this step has started to outweigh the really ‘ugly reliving and facing everything’ that existed at the beginning.
But all of that, or none of that aside, I’m still pacing this stupid hallway because I’m torn between my anxiety and my pride. I’ve only been in therapy for five weeks, and I’m still unpacking a lot of shit in my head, which is why I’m here. I know I can drive myself to my appointment, but the anxiety side of me is whimpering and asking if it is really out of line to ask for a little help.
I know Qi felt terrible when he realized he couldn’t drive me today, and the only way I could cheer him up was by promising to ask Marcus to come with me in his stead, but I still have to swallow some serious pride because I hate how weak this makes me look. Not weak,vulnerable. Grant–my therapist–would be so proud of the internal negative word correction.
Ugh. I’m annoying myself now.Either ask or deal with it on my own.I’ve already worked myself up into a knot, though, so it’s probably a really bad idea to go on my own.
My knuckles barely even brush against the door before it flies open, scaring the living daylights right out of me. The most embarrassing noise I’ve ever made in my life explodes out of my mouth, and my hand flies to my chest to make sure my heart doesn’t beat right out of my skin.
Marcus is standing there with amusement plastered all over his stupidly handsome face, and I’m already ready to call this whole thing off.
He chuckles and shakes his head at me. “I’ve heard you shuffling outside my door for ten minutes now. I was wondering when you’d finally knock.”
I huff. My pride is so viscerally shattered, I swear I can see remnants of it on the floor, maybe some splattered on the walls, ‘cause lord knows I fucking jumped high enough for it.
“If you knew I was out here, then why didn’t you just open the door?” I practically whine. And I say practically because it was accusatory enough to be a whine, but I don’t actually whine, so it doesn’t count as one.
Marcus just stands there with his smug, amused face and shrugs. “Didn’t want to interrupt whatever internal battle you were having.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t know how the hell he irritates me and turns me on at the same time. It pisses me the fuck off sometimes. It’s like he’s playing with me, but then when it counts, he’s really serious and so damn caring. I never know which version of him I’m gonna get.
“For fuck’s sake. Youdoknow you’re irrationally irritating.”
Marcus’s smile spreads across his face with a crack of pure joy that makes my heart beat in my chest for a whole new reason. Someone as irritatingly flirty as Marcus is has no business being this good-looking. It’s just too damn much to contend with.
“Oh no, I’mveryrationally irritating. You just think it’s irrational because you refuse to admit that you like it,” he says with a wink.
His comment pulls me up short because somehow I’ve gone from nervous and needy to bristly, irritated, and irrationally turned on. I don’t know how the hell he does that, but he needs to fucking quit it.
“You know what, never mind,” I huff out, and take a step back, my brain screaming to retreat to safety.
Marcus reaches out and grabs my arm before I can retreat too far, though. His warm hand sends tingles through my skin.Goddammit, this is ridiculous.
The more I allow myself to be internally honest, which is justGrant’s fancy way of saying feeling my feelings, the more Marcus turns me inside out.
Before going to therapy with the full intention of taking it as seriously as possible, I had a million barriers and trauma-nopes packed in my head to reason all of these little flutters away. Now the damned butterflies can’t seem to calm down anymore.
Which is rather annoying because during the last several weeks, I’ve gotten notoriously famous for seeking out validating touches. Whether it’s hugs from Tristan or curling up against my brother or Marcus, the fact is my system calms down more quickly when I can feel the warmth of someone I trust nearby.
