A week has passed.
My nightmares have continued occurring, though I have not woke up screaming like the first night. But still, the extent of their damage is written on my face as I blink tiredly, my face nearly falling into my oatmeal.
"Tired much?" Indy teases, sitting across from me at the breakfast table.
"You have no idea." I grumble, fumbling for my spoon.
My porridge tastes nothing short of bullshit.
"Indy, pass the sugar." I command, not caring how bitchy I sound. I never am a morning person, especially when my dreams consist of being stalked by a man with an eye patch and a passion for strangling me.
"Here you go." He says with a small smile, passing the cup of glucose.
His fingers lightly brush mine as he hands me the cup.
What feels like an electric shock jolts through me, numbing my senses and sending me into a temporary coma.
Of course, knowing my klutziness, that's not all that happens.
I drop the cup and it shatters loudly, causing every worker to look over at me.
But I could care less about everyone else.
I only have eyes for Indiana Jones.
I probably look completely stupid, sitting there, frozen in place.
And as strange as it seems, he's staring back at me, frozen as well.
Everything I have ever been attracted to about Jones seems intensified. The slope of his broad shoulders, the crease in his forehead, the burst of color around his irises that all but hypnotizes me, and most of all, his lips. A sudden wave rushes over me, making me want to pull those lips to mine. I vaguely wonder what it might feel like, kissing him.
Abner addresses me, breaking both the never ending silence and my coma. "Marion, you clumsy child, clean the mess up, please!"
I can't even think up a saucy comment to reply with. I just nod dumbly and begin to pick up the pieces of the shattered cup as fast as possible without cutting myself. Indy looks like he wants to say something, but I don't give him a chance to. I know that if he so much as looks at me that I'll lose what little control I'm struggling to retain.
I walk calmly into my tent, promptly making sure I'm not being followed. I then proceed to run to my cot, shove my face into my pillow and scream. Scream until my throat is nearly inside out.
When I've purged myself of all psychotic emotions, I sit up, gripping myself in exasperation.
My head is ringing with the same words over and over again. Carrie was right, and I've been being a defiant little chit all this time.
It's finally happened, after these long months filled with yelling, punching, drinking, attempts at suicide, hangovers, getting soaked in the rain and cleaning sud filled kitchens, the inevitable and mortifying truth has happened.
I am in love with Indiana Jones.
Well, now we're finally getting somewhere, eh Marion? I expect reviews as always and for you to look for any typos or grammar errors. Please.