Dedicated to dominic's girl. The only one whom left a review. I'm watching all of you. Review please? They'll make my day. And they encourage more updates.
December 24th 10:00 pm EST
"They call me, they call me- Mimi." She said, and with that she left, her dark waving behind her and heeled boot's clacking, echoing through the loft.
I stand still, confused out of my mind. What just happened here? What were her motives with this?
Who cares, it's not going anywhere. She's a junkie, after all I did- Mark did- to keep clean I'm not giving it up for her. I'm not giving Mark up for her. But who said she was even trying anything with me? Who said Mark was even going to try anything with me?
God, I'm just confusing myself now. I sit down with my guitar and wait for Mark to come home with Collins, plucking absent-mindedly. My mind is occupied on Mark, only Mark. It's been that way since withdrawl, how could it not? I sigh and focus on those far away nights, when Mark would hold me to keep me from trembling. He would tell me everything was fine, while stroking my hair. Tears would roll down my cheeks, and he tenderly wiped them away even when there were tears falling from his own.
I thought then that maybe this could be something. All we had been through, connected us as more than just what we were. But then came Maureen. She cheated, he knew, I knew. She loved him, he knew, I knew. She had more control over him than anyone could use. I knew. She knew. Mark was clueless to this. He still is, and still will do anything for her.
It kills me when she kisses him after he's done something good for her, then she prances away like what she did was nothing. He blushes looks hopeful it would happen again.
My thoughts interrupt as the metal door to the loft slides open revealing Mark alone.
"No Collins?" I ask
"Couldn't find him." He says taking off his jacket but leaving the scarf. His scarf dangles down in front of his chest as he sits down the table next to me.
"I'm sure he'll turn up." I say hopefully looking down at my guitar, trying to keep my eyes of him. My thoughts off him. It's seems like the hardest thing ever though
"Yea." He says with a fragile smile, directing my attention to him again. He looks perfect, cheeks slightly pink from the cold; it's beautiful in every way. It takes all I have to keep from pulling the end of his scarf and bring his lips to mine. I bite my lip to stop the thought.
"I met the girl, from downstairs…" I say, saying anything to get my mind of him. " She came up, needed a match or something."
"Oh. Well…that's good. Was she…nice?" He asked
" She seemed like it…I don't know. She's a junkie though…" I said, tearing myself away from his deep blue eyes and bringing them to my guitar.
'Oh. Wow. She looked so young though."
"Nineteen. She works at that trashy club. The Cat Claw…or something. I don't know."
"Wow." He repeated.
"Yea…" I said unsure of what else to say. I look up at him again, we catch each other's eyes for a moment. I slowly lean in to him, what felt wrong moments ago seems natural now. Mere inches away from his face, he turns his head to the door sliding open to reveal Collins with his arms full with a pickle tub.
I hop off the table and stand back as Mark greets Collins.
Five Seconds. Five more seconds, and it would've happened.
Maybe Collin's arrival was for the best.
