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I watched him take off his shirt. God, he looked so hot, but I could not begin to think about how his dark, tattooed skin made mine shiver.
Not because I didn't want to, but because Jay was right in front of him, battle-ready and set to tear his guts out. I wanted to scream, shout, or yell anything to make them stop, but I could not speak.
It didn’t seem like Marcus wanted to stop, either. He had gotten his stance ready, prepared to face Jay and his thugs - fist to fist.
I still couldn't believe he was fighting for me. Yes, we were friends.
What am I saying? We had become family. But him, here, now - it seemed like something different. It was like --
The first punch stopped my thoughts. It was all happening so fast.
I bulged from my frozen state when one of the punches threw Marcus off balance, and he staggered.
Instead of giving in, he swiped his mouth with his hand and regained his stance.
'Please be careful.' Like he could hear me. Oh God!
I felt useless as I stood and watched Marcus, who I hoped would win this fight, take on so many hits. Jay's guys were too many, and I could not help - all I did was stand there.
Though Marcus didn't seem like he would back down, everything changed when I spotted Jay holding something shiny.
Fuck! It was a knife!
I saw the weapon, but Marcus didn’t.
"Marcus - the knife. Watch out!" It all happened quickly - the knife cut through Marcus, and I saw him fall.
My heart melted,
"Let's get outta here." I heard Jay say to his guys.
That was when I noticed the sirens whining. I don't know how I didn't hear it. Maybe that was why the thugs scurried off like mice.
I rushed to meet Marcus, where he lay, bleeding. My knees became weak as I knelt beside him, trying to lift his head as much as my strength could afford. He wanted to speak, but I shushed him -
"Don't speak." I said, "Save your strength," placing my finger over his lips.
But Marcus didn't listen to me.
Instead, he looked me in the eye so softly, and I felt his hands grace my cheeks.
'I love you, Liza,' he whispered.
My heart skipped a beat, and my head stopped working.
I had forgotten where we were or what we were doing. I had forgotten the sirens - the police were probably already staring at us - I didn't care. Marcus was still wounded - and covered in blood. I didn't want to care about all of that.
Because for as long as I could remember, I had daydreamed about us. And now, it seemed like my dream was about to come true.
Marcus hauled me closer. The smell of his shampoo got stronger. His brown eyes slowly disappeared under his eyelids. As I could hear him breathe - his nose touching mine - I closed my eyes, and his lips found mine.
Fiction Writing
