Underneath This Smile
"Your scars are there to prove a point, not make you feel or look ugly"
What I'm standing on is sinking in
And I don't have a clue how to get off of it
But when I look at you there is hope
It's like you see the sadness in my eyes
You read the blue between the lines
You could be the one to hold me when I wanna cry
"John… please? I don't want to talk about it right now!"
"That maybe true," John started blocking her only exit, the elevator, "but we need to talk. I just figured you would rather do it while the others were out of the tree house…" he spoke softly, with a great amount of patience.
"Didn't we talk enough in the cave? You know? When you reminded me of how 'cold' I am? And all that?..." Marguerite backed up, trying to hurt or anger him. 'Anything, anything to avoid this conversation.' She knew it would tear down every carefully built walls from around her heart.
"Oh no…" he started towards her, almost cocky, but trying very hard not to be… "You're not hurting me out of this conversation…"
"Please, John? I'm not ready for this…"
"Marguerite, it's now or never," he locked his soft, yet callous; gentle, yet vice like hands onto her upper arms. "I'm sick of games!" he shouted. He quickly realized that scared her, and continued more softly, "I love you… I'd do anything for you… you know that… don't you?"
Marguerite looked at him through tear filled eyes, "Yes… I know." she barely whispered, as the tears spilled over like waterfalls down her cheeks.
Underneath this smile
My world is slowly caving in
All the while
I'm hanging
'Cause that is all I know
Could you be the one to save me from every bad habit that has helped me dig this hole?
I've been hiding out for miles
Underneath this smile
"Oh, Marguerite…" he gathered her up in his arms, and rocked her. "Shhhh… it's okay, please don't cry, I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm so sorry! we don't have to have this conversation right now. Shhhh…"
"To late, John… you got me cryin', we're having this damn conversation!" she sniffled trying to stop crying, a futile effort.
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be, you're right."
"I am?" he looked at her.
"I'm sick of playing games too, I love you John." she smiled at the genuine look of confusion on his face. "and maybe I'm just sick of hiding it from everyone, including you. I've loved you since the day I met you!"
"Really that bullet told me, you, more than most, despised me." he chuckled at her.
"No," she smirked, wrapping her arms around his waist as he did the same to her, "it was more like, me, putting, you, in your place…"
"Ahh… the first of many, memorable moments!"