A/N:
Hello again! I'm sorry I took longer than expected on uploading this chapter; I've been busy with school summer work. Excuses, excuses haha I know. A week from tomorrow school starts up again, the 26th. Ugh. So the updates will be less frequent, but I won't abandon this story because lord knows I've done it to many in the past.
Enjoy! R&R!
He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand. And yet there he was in his main parlor pacing back and forth trying to weave out all of the thoughts and feelings that are confined within his heart and mind. And he completely and utterly blames her.
Yes, you could say the slender, blonde-haired young man was infatuated. Ever since he courted her in Louisville and noticed this said infatuation, he knew that she was the one who stole his heart. "Married? How could she be married? She promised she would wait for me." He bellowed. Gatsby angrily thought aloud. And with that in mind, he reached for the closest item and smashed it against the wall in front of him. His breathing was coming out in uncontrollable gasps, a small sweat beginning to break out on his forehead. He finally turned his feet mechanically and walked out from his room and to Daisy's house, he had to know the truth and reasoning behind all of this.
As he pulled into the long driveway, he noted that the only light on in the mansion was coming from the bedroom. Everything was oddly quiet, and at first that dread came boiling back down his throat. Slamming the car door shut, he shifted on his feet uncomfortably as he tried to keep a calm, nonchalant posture entering the practically barren house. Gatsby felt cold and lost, entering the Buchannan's home. Putting one foot in front of the other, his leather shoes made their usual stepping sound. Gatsby looked around. No Tom was in sight. The servants had retired for the night.
He remembered the bedroom light on upstairs, and instantly his stomach knotted up. As quickly and quietly as he could, he ran up the many flights of stairs, thanking God that no one had caught him. He stared at the light glowing from the crack at the bottom of the door. Gatsby took in a deep breath and pushed open the bedroom door without a second thought.
Daisy. Curled up on the bed in a fetal position, her eyes red and puffy from hours of crying; they caught his, her brown irises pouring into him. "Jay?" She whimpered, her voice weak yet angelic. His gaze darted from her eyes to the black and blue bruises already formed onto her wrists and cheek. Daisy noticed what he was looking at and jumped out of the bed, rushing into his arms. "I'm sorry, Jay." She cried, her nails digging deeper into his back. "I'm so sorry!" He just held her, unresponsive. His dumbfounded motives encouraged her to continue, "I had to Jay. I had to. I married Tom because I thought I'd be secure. I waited for so long, Jay. I guess I was wrong, huh? Look at me. I…" she sniffled, shutting her mouth and refusing to say any more then she already had. However, she allowed herself to be warmed by his embrace.
"I'm sorry." She said once more. "It's all right." He replied calmly, tenderly pushing her away just so he could see the apologetic glint in her eyes. For a few seconds they did nothing but stare as though they had never seen each other before. Daisy studied his eyes, the bluest color she'd ever seen in her entire life, and his babyish facial features. Gatsby scoffed, the corner of his mouth turning up at the thought. Daisy raised an eyebrow, licking her dry lips. "Wha-" she began, but was immediately interrupted by Gatsby, who took her face in his hands and put a smooth thumb over her lips. "Shh," he whispered. "Let me think." When he finally removed his hands from her face, he saw Daisy, arms crossed at her chest and forehead wrinkled up. "What are you thinking about?" She asked him, putting her arms around his neck. "How could a man even possess the thought of even laying a single finger on a woman like you?" he slowly caressed her wrists that still rest on his neck. Slowly, the tears began to weld up on her eyes. "I can't take it anymore, Jay." Pulling her into a well-needed hug, he kissed her tenderly on the lips–surprising themselves- and his arms wound themselves around her waist while closing his eyes, burrowing his face into her short blonde hair and caressing her hair. "Let's get out of here." He said.