It's Worse Than You Think

I let out a soft groan, and slowly opened my eyes. For a moment, I forgot where I was and what was going on, until I eventually began to remember last night. God.

Fire caught my cheeks when I realized that I wasn’t even anywhere close to my pillow or side of the bed, and that my face was buried in the crook of Marshall’s neck. His arms were wrapped around my waist as he slept, and reluctantly, I untangled myself from him.

I scooted over and rested my head against the pillow, a small smile on my face. Marshall was really here. He stayed with me when he didn’t have to, because no matter what I asked of him, he could have easily said no. I don’t know, but it’s making me happy. And after yesterday, I’m welcoming that emotion. After a while, I turned so that I could stare at him for a little.

He’s so perfect, while I’m so… not. His black hair was feathered across his eyes, and he looked calm and peaceful. He had such a prominent jaw line, and his nose was perfectly even. Every element about him made me jealous. The longer I stared at him, I realized two things.

I’m so creepy right now. I don’t even want to imagine how embarrassed I would be if he opened his eyes. I think I’m going to stop now.

And two, there’s nothing I want more then to just lean over and press my lips against his. But literally everything is stopping me. For some reason, whenever I think about how I like him, I almost feel guilty. He’s nineteen. I’m three years older then him, and that makes me feel like a… pervert or something else disturbing. He probably wants to date someone his own age, right?

“’Morning, Zeke,” I heard Marshall grumble, and turned to see him yawn, stretching out his limbs.

“Good morning.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Really well, actually,” I admitted, and he chuckled. I cleared my throat, “About last night…” I began uneasily, wondering where to begin.

“We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Marshall said immediately, “I’m serious. Don’t think you have to.”

I nodded my head: I was grateful, but still felt the need to say something. “It’s just… yesterday, that’s not me. I’m not usually like that. And I’m so sorry I yelled at you, Marshall,” I apologized softly, biting my lip. I wasn’t looking at him, so I couldn’t measure his reaction to what I was saying.

“My opinion of you hasn’t changed at all, you know that right?”

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Yeah, I do.” Now.

“Besides, it was hardly yelling anyways. Just talking in a loud voice.” We both laughed, and it was quiet until he continued talking. “You could have told me what really happened,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“I don’t think it was your fault.”

“I know you don’t. Thank you for staying,” I told him, changing the subject.

But I really did mean it. I needed somebody, and to have someone else in my presence was enough. I’m not going to lie, the fact that the someone was Marshall, made everything a lot better. Even if I did make a complete idiot out of myself. Crying all over him, not being able to handle anything properly, what the hell is wrong with me?

“It’s no problem, Zeke. I wanted to be there for you.” My face reddened at his words, before he suddenly shouted out, “Shit!”

“What?”

“I have to call Finn!” Without anymore explanation, he darted out of my bed to head out into the living room, cell phone in hand.

I didn’t want to eavesdrop, partially because it was impolite, and partially because I had a feeling that they were going to talk about me, and I’m not sure I really want to hear any of it. I know what happened, and I’m not exactly up to hearing it from his point of view. So, I crawled back under the sheets for a good ten minutes. Everything has the scent of Marshall on it, and I don’t even mind. I mean, we actually slept in a bed together last night. This is Finn’s fucking dream, or something.

Eventually I left my room and sauntered down the hallway, only to see Marshall standing by the window. He must have sensed something, because he immediately turned around and smiled at me. “He’s right here. Finn wants to talk to you,” he said, and I walked towards him, reaching out for the phone. He handed it to me and pointed at the device, mouthing, he’s mad, following it with a grumpy expression.

I laughed, but it died down right away. “Hi.”

“Ezekiel Monroe Carelock, what is wrong with you?”

I winced, “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you answer the phone when I called you yesterday?”

“I couldn’t,” I answered honestly, because a lie or an excuse would have been bullshit, and he would have known it.

“Zeke, it was me. Finn, your best friend. You can talk to me! I’m always here for you, and a phone call is no different.”

“I know,” I murmured, my eyes wide with guilt.

“What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Really I’m sorry, I should have answered. I wasn’t thinking.”

I heard him groan into the receiver, “Stop saying sorry. It’s making me feel guilty, and I just need to vent, okay? I was scared out of my mind for a good eighteen hours, and that kind of stuff builds up inside of you, you know?”

I almost smiled. “Okay.”

“I was thinking the worst! What if you had cut yourself again, and were passed out in the bathroom, dying? I didn’t know if you ran away, I didn’t know if you were okay! Don’t ever do that again, or I swear, I’ll kill you.”

I debated my chances, but eventually responded with, “How would you kill me?”

Finn sighed, but didn’t sound nearly as angry as before. “You’re… an idiot. I don’t- I have to go, but I’ll see you in a few days.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Zeke. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

I handed the phone back to Marshall, and sat down on the couch, resting my elbows on my knees. He took a place next to me, “Is he really mad at you?”

I shook my head, “Not mad. Just worried.”

He didn’t respond, and seemed to be lost in thought. “Zeke?”

I turned to look at him, “Yeah?”’

“I need to tell you something.” His expression tightened, and he stared at me for a moment, causing my cheeks to darken. Marshall’s lips curved up into a small smile, and he shook his head. “Alright, this- I feel like I’m making this so much more difficult- I’m just going to say it, okay?”

I nodded, fighting back a laugh at how flustered he suddenly seemed. “Okay.”

“I like you. I like you as in, I’m crazy about you.”

I listened hard, waiting for the joke or the laugh. For the but, or the never mind. It never came, and I bit down hard on my bottom lip, “You like me?” It’s a dumbass question, but also the first thing that came to my mind. Marshall’s face dropped, and I instantly felt bad. “I-I just, I don’t understand-”

“Zeke, you’re amazing. I don’t even know where to start, but if you don’t understand, I guess I’m going to have to clarify.” He was smiling now, for some reason. “You’ve got to be the nicest, most selfless person I’ve ever come across. You’re easy to talk to, and to be around. I think you’re beautiful, I really do.” Marshall was quiet for a moment, and he closed his eyes for a split second, as if to clear his head. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m being pretty blunt and straightforward right now. I just wanted you to know, because it was becoming too hard for you not to know.”

I tried to wrap my head around the concept, the idea that I’ve been consumed with for weeks now. He actually liked me, didn’t he? I mean, you don’t just make that kind of shit up to someone. A smile appeared on my face, because I couldn’t keep it off of me anymore.

“I like you too, Marshall. The ‘I’m crazy about you’ kind.” I was trying to be clever by using the words he had used. I'm not even completely sure how it came off, I could have just sounded like a dumbass. He didn't seem to care, though.

Marshall's eyes brightened, not a trace of hesitation in his eyes, and turned around on the couch so he could face me properly. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Boyfriend. The question was so odd, and unfamiliar to me. It feels like ages since I’ve been in a relationship, one that I felt deserved the title. I nodded and he grinned, his eyes darting back and forth between mine.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He laughed at the immediate blush on my cheeks, and I groaned internally. Remember, you’re twenty one. You’re not fucking eight. This isn’t your first kiss. It’s Marshall. You like him, a lot more than you probably should.

“Go ahead,” I responded, my voice wavering slightly.

My heart was pounding as he leaned forward, and attached his lips to mine. My eyes slipped shut as our lips moved together, before pulling apart after a few seconds. I bit my lip, and smiled softly, looking down at my lap.

“Shit, I have to go,” he said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. He frowned at the questioning look in my eye and explained as he stood up to move towards the front door, “I took a half day at work so I could be with you this morning. But now it’s time for my shift.”

I shook my head, fighting a blush at the gesture he’d made for me, shrugging my shoulders. “That’s okay. I’ll see you later.”

He gave me one last smile, moving over to me once more to wrap his arms around my torso; bending over awkwardly seeing how I was still sitting down. I couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “Bye, Zeke.”

“Bye,” I murmured into his chest, inhaling the scent that’s grown so familiar to me in the past few hours. I leaned my head back against the couch as my front door shut behind him, and ran a hand through my hair.

Wow.