"Juliet?!"
She heard him, but thought she didn't have the strength to reply.
"Juliet?"
She closed her eyes, and willed herself; "I'm up here!" it came out a little croaky.
She heard his clanking footsteps as they ran up the stairs, and the stopped outside the bathroom door as he gave a little tap while slowly opening it, poking his head inside. A smile instantly crossed his face.
"Well...this is very tempting!" he smiled mischievously as he looked down at his wife sitting amongst the foamy bubbles.
She cracked a weary smile.
"How did the rest of the photo shoot go?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub.
She shrugged, and busied herself by delving her hands around the tub, looking for her sponge.
"Well...did he develop the film right away, or..."
She found it, and handed it, dripping, to Peter. She sat up, and emerged a little more from the water, turning around, indicating she wanted her back washed "ummm.... he said he'd get them to us in the next week or so..." she finally answered.
Peter started softly rubbing her smooth back with the sponge, dipping it in the water, and squeezing it so the water ran and tickled her spine.
"Did you stay much longer after I left?" he asked.
She nodded.
"So what did you two talk about...?"
She shrugged, "nothing really...just you..." she bit her bottom lip.
"Oh Jesus...that cant be good!" he chuckled.
She couldn't take it anymore. She slowly turned around, taking the sponge from his hand and dropping it back in the water, and she looked up at him, her eyes welling up a little.
"Jules...?"
She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down a little so her lips could rest on his. He had to steady himself; by sitting on the bathroom tiles while Juliet kissed him, passionately. When she released him, they looked into each other's eyes; "I love you!" she smiled.
"I love you too, Jules!" he smiled back, and started kissing her again.
And somehow, Juliet thought this would make things better.... but that evening, as they made love...she only felt worse.
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He dipped the blank sheet in the chemicals and watched as a close up of Peter slowly appeared, pale, and barely visible. While he waited for the chemicals to soak, and the picture to become darker and bolder, he took another sip from his Heineken.
He knew he was drunk. But that didn't affect the quality of his work...he wouldn't go stumbling around, knocking over toxic chemicals and ruining the film. He could do all this process with his eyes closed. His mother had been a photographer, for a newspaper. He'd practically been raised in the dark room, and knew his way around, better than he knew the back of his own hand.
The picture was finished. He put the bottle down, and reached for the tongs- hanging the photo up on the line. He hadn't got to Juliet's role of film yet...he didn't quite have the courage. So he took another swig from his bottle.
He had considered phoning her. But he was worried Peter might answer, and that would be awkward. He also thought it was her duty to call him. After all, he hadn't been the one that initiated both kisses!
He stood, looking at the row of 20 or so pictures of Pete and Jules. They looked good together. A handsome couple. Clearly in love.... it made him sick.
"Bollocks!" he muttered.
Infact, since Juliet's hasty escape that afternoon, those were the only words he seemed capable of speaking... all day, just waddling around the apartment, every so often remembering how soft her lips were.... how good she smelt.... a flash of white wedding dress running away from him, and he'd suddenly burst out; "Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocks!" like a mad man.
He felt like a right idiot!
He looked down at the last role of film.
He had an urge to open the case outside, where the studio lights would kill Juliet's pictures.
He didn't know why...perhaps to get back at her...but for what?
Kissing him? Well...to be perfectly honest, he didn't half mind that. He wasn't about to struggle from her lips.
Jeopardizing his friendship with Peter? ...No, he was just as guilty of that. And it wasn't as though Juliet wasn't endangering anything precious either. I mean, her marriage was on the line. Her marriage of 2 months...the thought made Mark deathly ill.
Oh no...he was angry with Juliet because she had kept the fire burning. He had gone to her house, ready to proclaim his love, and then bury his admiration in a deep, dark pit, never to be thought of again.
But...Juliet, being the kind-hearted darling she was...thought she owed him something for his courage. A kiss?
Well....a kiss changes everything. A kiss kept Mark's hope alive. And he loved her even more for it.
"Bollocks!" he muttered again. Slamming his Heineken bottle down and reaching for the film case.
The truth was. He didn't hate her at all. He hated himself for loving her.... when he knew he couldn't have her. It was pathetic and pointless. An unhealthy infatuation that not only endangered his friendship, but her marriage. And that wasn't fair!
He worked on the film, a little reluctantly. He half hoped the chemicals would sour and wreck the photos. Making them bubble and melt into a gooey skin.
But alas, he was too good at what he did. And they turned out beautifully.
Her big brown eyes, soft pink lips, stray pieces of hair that fell about her tanned shoulders.... It was all perfect. She looked radiant.
Just as he had done with the others, he made copies of the best pictures. He made half in colour, half in black and white. He enlarged one or two really great close-ups, and minimized a few to fit in small photo frames.
He also made one particular picture wallet-sized. He tucked it away in his own jean pocket, photo of Jules, her eyes twinkling with laughter, throwing her head back slightly.
He hung all the photo's up on the line, and glanced down at his watch as he stepped out of the darkroom. It was three o'clock in the morning.
"Bollocks" he muttered again, running a hand through his matted hair.
He sprawled out on his bed, and was soon snoring...occasionally muttering "Bollocks" as he dreamt a little of Jules.
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"Babe!"
Moaning, she rolled onto her stomach and put a pillow on top of her head. Blocking out the world.
"Jules..."
"Go-err-way...!"
Peter rubbed her back a little as he tried coaxing her out. "It's seven o'clock.... you've got to get to work."
"Be a darl and call in sick for me?" came the muffled reply.
He laughed. "And say what?"
She moved the pillow a little, to reveal one sleepy eye, she looked up at him; "Tell them you're wife shagged her brains out last night and can't walk...so she is unable to go to work today!" and with that, she re-covered her face with the pillow.
He laughed louder. "C'mon, Jules!"
"Petey..." she whined.
"What will you do all day?"
She moved the pillow again, "Watch Oprah...then East Enders.... maybe a little neighbours...."
"Oh, a very productive day ahead, then?"
The pillow moved as she nodded.
"Well if you insist on giving yourself bedsores.... at least come up with a better excuse for it than sex!" he smirked.
She rolled over, flinging the pillow to the floor. "Fine! Tell them....I had some bad egg-nog and I've been in the bathroom all night puking from both ends!"
He scrunched up his nose, and reached under the covers, tickling her stomach. She giggled furiously.
"The flu it is then!" he smiled, standing up. She nodded, pouting.
"Thankyou my dear!" she said, dramatically...and then she coughed a little.
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Three fubu-wearing teenage boys were standing infront of a large image of a breast being groped.
They looked on in amazement, made gargling laughter and pointed at the nipple that was showing slightly.
Juliet rolled her eyes. She hated to think what was going on in their pants right now.
"Oy! You lot!" she scolded. They turned around, looking her up and down. They started elbowing each other excitedly. "You know.... it is art!" she said, matter-of-factly.
"More like free porn!" one of the pimply faced juveniles scoffed. The other two started elbowing him and laughing. "Hell yeah!" they encouraged.
She rolled her eyes, and put her hands on her hips. "Piss off then!" she hissed.
"Piss off then!" they all mimicked as they headed for the door.
"Don't we get a kiss first?" the brave one asked, smacking his lips together as he passed her.
"A bloody Liverpool kiss...." She replied, turning around and staring him down as he sluggishly walked out the door "slag" she heard him mutter.
"Thanks for that...."
Juliet turned around, surprised to see Mark standing before her, red bags underneath his eyes, bed hair, wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday.
"I was shit scared of them myself,..." he muttered.
She gave a small nod, "good thing I was here then", she replied lamely.
He said nothing. Just looked down at his Doc Martins.
The silence was sickening. Hanging in the air like a thick fog... Juliet couldn't take it anymore!
"So...hand up if you feel like a complete donkey's arse!" she smiled weakly and sheepishly raised her hand.
Mark looked up, but didn't bat an eyelid.
She sucked in some air and brought her hand back down.
"Look, Mark..." she started, but he interrupted quickly.
"Aren't you supposed to be at work or something?"
She nodded. "Yeah...I decided to take the day off...."
"Does you're husband know you're wagging work to see me?"
She blushed, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear, as she whispered "no"
"Right then...that's just great!" he muttered, shaking his head in disgust.
Juliet frowned as she watched him, "Look, mate! I came here to bloody well clear the air with you!"
He scoffed as he looked back at her, but she wouldn't let him get a word in.
"I just don't want to go on like this...with all this crap between us!"
"Well, there wouldn't be any crap if you hadn't kissed me!" he yelped back.
That shut her up.
Mark instantly bit his tongue.
"Right..." she breathed, running a hand through her limp hair.
"I'm sorry, Jules...I had a few beers last night...my head is killing me...." He started, but she raised a hand.
"No, no...your right... I am a great, big fat slag who deserves to have her arm cut off with a blunt knife!"
He winced at the thought that made his stomach churn. "I wouldn't go that far,..." he said, grabbing his tummy.
"I am a shocker of a wife!" she continued, "I am not 3 months into my marriage and I have already cheated on him..." she laughed back tears, "with his best friend!"
"Hey.... the shit flows both ways!" Mark contributed, head throbbing from the thought of his backstabbing ways and the still prominent hangover. He vowed to never touch another Heineken bottle as long as he lived.
Tears pricked at the back of Juliet's eyes. She quickly sucked in more air as she gave in to blubbering like a fool.
Mark looked to her as she tried swiping at the fresh tears.
"Oh god..." he murmured under his breath.
He took one tentative step forward, hesitated, and then took another.
"There, there..." he tried comforting from a distance. But, quietly, she continued to cry.
"Oh, come on Jules...." He tried. But it was no good. She'd need a pat on the back...
"Juliet..." he stood beside her, reached a hand out, and rested it on her shoulder. "I'm a knob. I'm sorry!"
She didn't stop.
"Hand up if you feel like a donkeys arse!" he nudged her as he raised a hand.
She kept crying. Softly.
"Oh ChristJules!" he breathed, "don't make me stand here and watch you like this...you know it bloody well kills me!"
She looked to him; red, puffy eyes blinked back tears. "Sorry" she said, sarcasm dripping.
"Oh!" he ran a hand through his hair, and suddenly got an idea.
"Oh! Oh!" he said happily, "I have something for you! A...a present..." he dashed off, behind the desk. Emerging with a large yellow envelope in his hand.
She warily took it from him. "What is it?"
He rolled his eyes and smiled.
She opened the sealed bit at the top, and pulled out her wedding photos. Twenty of them at least, different sizes, some coloured, some black and white.
"Oh God!"
"You like them then?"
She flipped through them quickly. They were gorgeous.
"These are...." She tried to find words. Looking into his face, she rubbed away tears and smiled a little. "...Really, Mark...these are just so wonderful!"
He shrugged, embarrassed.
She stared down at a picture of her and Peter. She was standing infront of him, his arms tucked around her middle. Another tear slithered down her cheek.... "I can't believe what I have done to him!" she whispered.
He opened his mouth, about to try his hand at comforting her again. But she turned to him quickly, resting a hand on his shoulder as she searched his eyes, "what I've done to you!"
He knew he should say something. Anything. But.... no words seemed to want to come out. So he just stood there, her hand on his shoulder.
She held the pictures close to her while she spoke. "Before the water works started.... I just wanted to come here and say how sorry I am..."
He nodded.
"...Really, I don't know what I was thinking...yesterday, the day you came to my house...I have no idea what was going through my mind when I..." she struggled for just a moment, "...when I, kissed you"
"And the thing is...before I knew how you felt.... before all this mess started... all I wanted was for you and I to like each other. To become friends.... or at least be able to be in the same room together.... for Pete's sake!"
He so badly wanted to say something. But all he could do was nod and 'hmmm' while she spoke. And occasionally glance over at her hand as it rested on his shoulder. It gave him shivers.
"...Because Peter loves you like a brother, and I'd hate to think that I would come between you just because you and I couldn't get along!?..."
"Hmmm..."
"So, what I'm trying to say is. Before all this kissing business got started, the only thing I wanted was for you and I to get along.... And I still want that. So, I think we should just put this all behind us and...well...get along...for Pete's sake"
"Hmm..."
She removed her hand. Mark finally exhaled.
She laughed a little, "Listen to me ramble!..." she blushed, "I get that way when I'm nervous..."
"Hmmm" he nodded.
"So...I've said my peace, I think I should get going..."
He nodded.
"Thankyou for the photos. They really are lovely."
Nodded again.
She turned, took two steps, and stopped.
Slowly, she turned back to Mark, stepped back to him, rested a hand on his chest...leaned forward...his heart stopped...and she.... kissed him on the cheek. Pulling away, she smiled, a broad smile.
"Purely platonic?"
He nodded. So did she. And then, she was on her way again.
And now, more than ever, Mark wanted to say something....anything! For god sake!
"Screw it!" he mumbled.
Her hand was on the door handle.
"Why did you do it, anyway?"
She stopped, but didn't turn around.
"Kiss me, I mean..." he cleared his throat and shifted his weight, nervously, "...Was there a particular reason.... was it on impulse...sympathy?" a thought smacked him in the face, "Was that it? You felt sorry that I'm single so you thought you'd give me a sympathy kiss.... as if to say 'sorry you're life sucks and you have noting better to do than hit on you're best friends girlfriend'...was that it?"
She turned back to him, and shrugged. "It was a mistake...can we just leave it at that?"
He nodded, and she turned back to the door.
"Actually, no!"
She sighed, heavily, and turned back to him. "Why does it matter, Mark?"
He shrugged, digging his hands into his pockets. "Oh I don't know...I guess its because I don't want to have a many sleepless nights about this, ya know? I'd rather have the answer now and save me the sleep depravation later...if you don't mind"
She looked to the ground, back to the door...and finally rested her eyes on Mark, biting her bottom lip, she sighed again. "What you did..." she started, and then lost the words.
"Yeah..." he urged, stepping towards her.
She leaned against the door. "...It was incredibly romantic...and nobody has ever don't something like that for me...and I doubt anyone ever will again!"
"Oh"
"Yeah...."
"It was romantic?"
She nodded.
"Not ever Peter has done something to top that...?" he asked, knowing it was dangerous territory.
"Well he doesn't exactly know there's been a benchmark set, Mark!" she snapped.
"Yeah, what I meant was...hasn't he done something for you, before that...you know...cliché and all...but, swept you off you're feet?"
She scoffed, and gave a little smirk. "So now you think you swept me off my feet, eh?"
He shrugged, "Well I put a lot of thought into that!"
"Well it was very sweet...."
"And the second time?"
"What?"
"Yesterday...when you kissed me for the second time.... I didn't have any cardboard or a Christmas carol tape with me...so what was so incredibly romantic that you had the urge to pash me?"
She opened her mouth. Then closed it again.
"Well..."
She blinked. "I...I don't know exactly..."
"Not a clue?"
She shook her head.
"So...the urge just came from nowhere?"
She shrugged.
"Do you...." He cleared his throat, "do you want to kiss me again, right now?"
She bit her bottom lip, and smiled nervously, avoiding his stare. "Mark..."
"Do you?"
His words made her look him in the eye, her smile gone now. "Yes" she said simply, feeling naked and vulnerable as he continued to look at her.
"I'm not doing anything particularly romantic to provoke another kiss.... but you still want to, anyway.... just while I'm standing here...being me?"
She nodded. "yes..." she whispered.
"Right then" he breathed, shaky and perplexed.
"Do you...want to kiss me?" she spoke so small, he hardly heard her.
He took a step towards her, "every time I see you...I want to kiss you..."
She laughed nervously, "so...that would be a yes..."
Another step. "Yes!" he said, defiantly.
"I don't know what we're doing anymore..." she started, "...if I kiss you right now...this will no longer be just a little mistake we both made and can move on from..."
"Still doesn't change the fact that I want to kiss you right now"
"I know what you mean..."
The envelope she was clutching fell to the ground as he pushed his body up against hers, leaning into her lips...kissing her softly at first...then harder as she wrapped her arms around him.
And both knew it wasn't a little mistake. It was deliberate...and wrong...and at the same time, strangely...it felt right.
She pulled away for a moment, trying to catch her breath.
"Is there somewhere we can go?..."
He stopped kissing her neck, and looked into her almond eyes, big, wild and scared as they stared back at him. Waiting for an answer.
"Are you..." he started.
"Yes"
He reached behind her, locking the door to the gallery.
"There's the loft upstairs,..." he said.
She reached for his hand, "lead the way" she whispered, kissing his lips.
AUTHORS NOTE
Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, and been very kind.
I know I'm cramming a lot into my chapters. But as I mentioned once before, I don't want to drag this out to anything over 10 chapters.
I've been rather ok with my updating aswell, I think. I guess its because I really love this whole Mark/Juliet saga. I don't know how you'll find this chapter.
Yes, they do have s-e-x....might be too soon, and therefore too unrealistic. But oh well, I was writing this and it seemed to fit at the time. I might wake up tomorrow and realize it was a horrible mistake, but it's done now. If you hate it, think it screws up the story or the characters...then complain in a review to me :) I don't mind, any feedback is welcome.
More to come very soon. So stay tuned. Thanks!
