Disclaimer: Still not mine…pssh.
A/N: Mmkay. You might have got where I'm going if you reread a chapter. If you didn't get it, you will now.
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Anger
Maureen came back a few hours later. Roger was no where in sight. Sighing, she walked over to Mark's room, knocking on the door lightly. "Marky? It's Mo…" she said softly. "Please let me in. I'm sorry."
The door creaked open to reveal a red-eyed Mark. His cheeks were puffy and he reeked of alcohol. "Marky…you've been drinking." She said sadly, reaching out to touch his cheek. He immediately swatted her hand away. "Don't touch me" he mumbled, stumbling backwards slightly. She grabbed his arm, steadying him. "You're going to bed." She said firmly, dragging him towards his bed. "You're drunk."
"I said not to touch me!" he cried angrily, trying to pull her hand off of his arm. She tightened her grip, pushing him lightly onto his bed. "You're going to thank me later" she said calmly, trying not to show him how afraid she was.
He stayed standing, glaring at her. "Get away from me!" he shouted, pushing her off of him. "Leave me alone! You ruined everything!" She stumbled, taken aback by how hard he had pushed her. "Mark please" she pleaded, reaching out to him. "Baby you're drunk…"
"What gives you the right to call me baby anymore?" he spat, his eyes shining. "Baby is here anymore. Marky isn't here anymore. It's just me…just plain old Mark." She looked at him, grabbing his wrist. "You aren't plain old Mark. You're drunk and not thinking and you're going to hurt someone…" she said quietly. He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I'm going to hurt you if you don't leave me alone." He said with a slur, laughing slightly.
Maureen blinked a few times. "I'm not leaving" she said, biting her lip nervously. "Please, don't be like this…please." She was begging him now, the fear now showing on her face.
"Hah! You're scared of me now…aren't you? Maureen Johnson, afraid of me…Mark Cohen…the nobody! This is priceless…absolutely priceless. Where's my camera?" He turned away, stumbling over to his camera. "Mark no!" she cried, frantic. "Put the camera down…" She reached for it just as he set it down. "Thank you…" she murmured, letting out a sigh of relief.
Mark laughed hysterically, his shoulders shaking. "You" he mumbled, pointing at her. "Go lay down." He said, turning and pointing to his bed. "Okay." She said quietly, going to his bed and laying down, unsure of what he wanted. Mark grinned, going over and propping himself over her.
"Mark…what are you doing?" she asked nervously, her breath catching in her throat. "You're drunk. Please don't…" She pushed him off of her, immediately regretting it. His hand connected with her cheek, making a sickening noise. She blinked a few times, obviously shocked. She got up off of his bed, tears running down her face. A red handprint was now visible on one of her cheeks.
Mark sobered up the instant he saw her crying. "Oh god. Mo…" he said quietly, biting his lip. "I don't…I'm so sorry…I wasn't…" he trailed of, his voice cracking. He got up slowly and walked over to her, touching her cheek lightly.
"Ow!" she cried, wincing and slapping his hand away. "What the hell was that for?" He blinked, startled by her outburst. "I'm sorry." he mumbled, touching her jaw and turning her head slightly to get a better look at her cheek. "I just wanted to see…" She grabbed his hand, taking it away from her face. "Just wanted to see what you did? Well, it hurts. Don't touch it."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I wasn't thinking…" he said quietly, his face turning scarlet. Carefully, he reached out to brush away some of her tears. "You're drunk" she said flatly. "Now go to bed." He nodded and shuffled over to his bed, setting his glasses down on the bedside table.
She walked over and pulled the covers back. "I'm sorry Mo…" he said again. "Don't worry about it" she said softly, pulling the blankets over him and kissing his forehead. "I forgive you" He sighed, closing his eyes. "Stay with me…" he murmured, grabbing her arm.
"Okay." She said with a nod, sitting on the floor by his head. "Let go of my arm." She murmured with a small smile. He complied, drifting to sleep. She watched him sleep, sighing every so often and rubbing her sore cheek.
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A/N: There you go! Don't hate me too much for making Mark mean and drunk. It all works out in the end