I love Lucky Charms. They are a rare and wonderful luxury down at the loft, where the infamous Captain Crunch rules the day, but I just can't help liking Lucky Charms the best. They're sweet, but a bit dull, and always turn the milk that odd color of red I like so much.
I absently flipped my spoon over, watching it as it sent a massive milk tsunami on the unexpecting marshmallow balloons. See, I like to keep the little balloons in the milk the longest, just so it can turn the milk that certain shade of scarlet- like the color of Mark's cheeks when he blushes.
Speaking of Mark, he sat on the stool next to me, cup of tea in his left hand and a copy of a newspaper- most likely the Village Voice- in his right. He flipped through the pages with out much interest, sipping the tea from time to time with the same marked lack of concern. His glasses are askew and messily angled to the right of his face, but I guess he could see fine so he could really care less.
I turned back to the Lucky Charms, staring down at the bowel and wrinkling my nose a bit. All the little marshmallows had dissolved, and now I was left with red milk. I flipped my spoon around in the bowl for a moment, hoping to find a spare marshmallow inside the mini milk Red Sea. Nothing. With a light pout and a sigh, I snatched the Lucky Charms Box and dumped more cereal into the bowl.
Mark looked up slowly, adjusting the glasses on his nose and yawning lightly. "Maureen, are you really going to have another bowl of that stuff?" He rubbed his eyes lightly, leaning over and grabbing the box. "How can you eat this stuff anyway?" He asked, bringing his gaze from me to the back of the little red box.
"Aw, Markie, it's good!" I said, snatching the box from him and turning it around. Lucky the leprechaun was perched oddly one the front, waving around the marshmallow by "magic" with one hand and holding a spoon in the other. I pointed to him, giggling under my breath. "How can you not like a cereal that has a little leprechaun on the front?" I tilted my head to the side, mimicking Lucky's pleased expression. I paused for a moment, flipping over the box and staring at the little green man for a moment.
Such a naive looking leprechaun, if that was at all possible. It seemed completely blind to anything outside of it's little red box, and was perfectly content living inside that box and not letting anyone in. I turned back to him, grinning. "Markie, you sir, are a leprechaun." I knew it was a lot just to think of about the happy little Lucky Charms man on the box, but my mind looked like that. I don't examine significant things, I examine insignificant things. Like Mark.
"I am no fucking leprechaun." He said, snatching the box from me and laughing. "How the hell do I look like that little munchin?" Mark pulled his face next to the box, bringing a pale hand from the illustrated figure and himself. When satisfied, he put the box back down on the table, and laughed again. This time it was nervous, almost like a chipmunk when it chattered.
I learned to love that little chatter laugh, or rather, learned why he did it. I really only paid attention Mark for about two weeks, but there was a couple of things I knew about him.
The first was that his room mate, Roger (who is really, really hot might I add), was quite over protective. He obviously already knew that Mark was madly in love with me (and that makes two of us) and that I was having fun seeing how many different ways I can make him blush and not much else. He was cute, but not for me. The first thing he told me as soon as it was only me and him was not to toy with Mark. Pfft. I'll toy with him if I want to toy with him, guitar boy. What was he going to do: hit me over the head with his guitar or give me a heart attack because he's not high for once?
The second was that Mark was adorable in a teddy bear sort of way. And that's what made him not really my type. All guys are toys. And I like to date...Ken Dolls, i.e.. big sexy muscular men. And Mark was a teddy bear, and as adorable as he was, he was just a teddy bear. And I outgrew Teddy Bears when I was six.
The third and final thing I had learned about Mark was that he gets nervous- a lot. He gives the appearance he knows what he's doing, but he's doesn't. And that was makes him so cute and it is what keeps me around. I'm not sure if I'm going to make his wildest dreams come true and pursue anything romantically, but I am being genuine when I say that I really do like having him around. And that he is almost exactly like a leprechaun. A naive pathetic little leprechaun.
"You are so a leprechaun." I retorted, messing around with a spare curl and move it away from my face. "Markie, look at it." I made a vague gesture to the box and watched his eyes move from me to the box.
Oh. Wait. I forgot one thing that I know since I met Mark. Blue is now one of my favorite colors. I mean really, blue-eyed blonde Jewish Guy? It does not get any more awkwardly precious then that. Anyway, back to what I was saying.
"Look, it's adorable!" I squealed, placing my hand over my mouth and nibbling the ends of my fingers in mock excitement. "Like you."
Mark blushed and looked down- almost the color of the cereal box, a deep crimson. I laughed and leaned closer to him, and it only caused him to shy away more. "Yes, Maureen, that leprechaun is..." He looked up, laughing that little chatter laugh again and restating the sentence. "That leprechaun incredibly sexy."
I laughed. It was so Mark to ignore a direct flirt like that. I shrugged, and leaned over his shoulder. I could feel him tense as I did such, almost making sure that my chin didn't touch his shoulder as I tried to see what he was looking at. "Okay, Little Mister Leprechaun, what are you reading?"
He sighed, seeming to try to stay as still as possible as he made a small gesture to the article. "Um-Um..." He flipped his head forward, realizing I had insisted that he was a leprechaun again. "I am not a leprechaun!" He said, throwing up his arms in a futile attempt to be firm.
Aww, Markie You're so cute when you try to be a man.
"Oh yes you are." I insisted, backing a bit off and starting to mess with my cereal again, yawning under my breath. "Markie, you are a little leprechaun and you are just going to have deal with it." I said, not looking straight at him. I knew that bugged him.
"I am not a leprechaun!" He said childishly, crossing his arms and looking at me from the corner of his glasses. "And why the hell do you call me 'Markie'?" He kept his arms over his chest, lowering his head like a child.
"Mark just seems too formal." I said, turning my stool back around and looking around the loft for a moment. After, I placed my fingers slowly on the metal table, tapping out a little tune with my fingers. "You're not a Mark, you're a Markie."
He frowned, tapping his finger lightly on the metal as well, creating a beat to my little music. I laughed, and kept on tapping, less preoccupiedly.
I liked Mark. I was just not sure how much I liked him. He made me feel really comfortable, I know that. He made me feel in control, and I like that too. And he's got a hot room mate, of course. I could deal with that. I turned my head back up to him and smiled lightly. When he faltered and grinned sheepishly back, I laughed. His grin dived down into a small, interested smile.
Mark had that look. Not that, weird lust look that I get from the usual Ken Doll boyfriends at this stage in the relationship. It wasn't love either. Because that's a totally different look. It was an...enamored look. Mark didn't love me, because love is a two sided thing and I didn't plan to give him that side. He was enamored. It was beautiful and genuine, in a sickening way.
The look disappeared, or rather changed into a concerned stare. I flinched back, and nodded quickly and spat out before I could catch myself. "Look at me like that again."
"What?"
"Nothing." I said quickly, starting the tapping again. I turned back, and he was looking away at the window I snuck a look at him. He was grinning lightly, so I guess he must of heard what I said. Damn it. I turned back, not looking at him either. I felt him shift and look at me, and felt blush in my cheeks.
What the crap?
I do not blush.
Maureen Johnson- Maureen the Drama Queen, does not blush over anything or anyone, even if she is starting to think she is falling in love with a certain sweet and adorable camera man that will remain anonymous. She does not blush.
There was a bit of laughter from my right, and a pair of cold fingers touched my chin lightly and pulled me a little that way. What was funny I could tell he was even nervous about just doing that. "Ar-Are you blushing?" Mark asked, laughing but trying to keep from me. It didn't work.
"Shut up leprechaun boy." I snapped playfully. I thought about moving my head off his hand, but I didn't. He didn't retreat and neither did I. It was awkward.
First off, we probably looked retarded like that. And second off, I usually wouldn't settle for just a finger on my chin. And that was because I actually liked this guy...scary thought. It was pitiful- Mark and Maureen, hopeless lovebirds.
Mark and Maureen. That has a sweet ring to it.
"For the last time Maureen, I am not a leprechaun." He said, frustrated more then anything else. I laughed at him, and he gave me what he seemed to hope was an incredulous look, and I only laughed at him, leaning closer- almost to the point that my head could touch his chest.
I swear, he looked like he was going to have a heart attack. I laughed, and just to make him hold that weird expression his face placed a hand lightly on his chest, and grinned at him. As if he though he I was trying to sway him, he said as firmly as he could. "I-I am not a leprechaun."
Poor Markie. I had him right where I wanted him. I picked back up the small sultry smile, laughing gently. "Of course you're a leprechaun." I said with a small giggle, leaning closer to him. He held that same blissfully shocked look on his face, and I took that as a sign to go on. "A little naive, a little dorky..." I traced a hand up his face and he looked like he was going to pass out. Good thing I really liked him, or I would of felt guilty about it.
No, Maureen Johnson is never guilty. Maybe, this new less heartless Maureen would be, but the love winning predator wouldn't. I didn't know where I was between them, but I couldn't get my thoughts straight so it didn't really matter.
"But he's cute." I said quietly, pulling my head up from his grasp. I could feel his breath, coming out in cold shallow bursts, in my face. He was to scared to move, to lose me being this close to him, to lose my hands on his shoulders. But he wouldn't take advantage of it. He wouldn't lean closer, and put my head in his hands and just kiss me like I wanted him too...
That the thing about these teddy bears, their either weaklings or gentlemen, I can't tell.
And yet, I loved...no, enamored with him. Enamored implied something far more innocent. I've loved many people, but I'm only be enamored with Mark.
"Cute?" He stutters finally, and I nodded vigorously.
"Cute," I insisted. Wrapping my arms around his neck slowly and leaning a bit on him. I could feel the heat around his neck, the way he stiffened and blushed just the way I like him too. It was all just so perfect. "You, sir," I said with a light smile, moving my hands slowly around his neck and to his face, "Are a leprechaun."
I knew he was about to say something else, but I pulled his head towards mine and kissed him- hard. For three seconds, he seemed so surprised by my actions that he almost pushed me off him. But of course he didn't, because it was of course, me- and it was of course, it was him.
I think I even felt him push forward, just a little bit. The slightest bit of reaction that kept me forward, just because I liked the feeling of his lips against mine.
It felt right. It sounds so cliche, but it did.
He wiggled away from me after a moment, and I could feel him gasping for breath, his heart beating like it was going to escape from him. He stood there, blankly for sometime, just catching his breath and looking at me in that enamored way.
And I just looked straight up at him, feigning innocence for my actions. I just looked, straight at him, secretly admiring every corner feature on face.
Have I ever told you that my favorite color is blue?
I felt him move a bit and I returned to my cereal causally, as if nothing happened. He was watching me still, I could feel him looking at me. I couldn't keep that little smile off my face, so I hid by playing with the cereal with my spoon.
"Maureen?" He said at last.
I looked up. "What, Markie?"
He grinned at me, taking a final sip of his coffee and looking around. He then looked straight at me. "I just might be a leprechaun." He took a deep breath, laughing. "I just might."
And that's when I, Maureen, the self-sufficient Drama Queen, learned that she might, just might, like the world's most adorable, teddy-bear like, awkward, dorky, precious leprechaun.
I just might have.