I don’t know how long it took. Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? My breathing finally started to even out and I could feel the color returning to my face. I held fast onto Marina’s hand, afraid of the conversation that would happen as soon as I let go.
(Back!)
(Hey! How was it?)
Slowly but surely, his breaths grew less erratic, his rigid posture softening. But he kept tight hold of my hand, almost as if he was……. afraid?
"Mercutio?" I tried again, lowering my voice.
(Good! A little awkward, but exciting)
I flinched as she gently called my name and finally got the courage to release her hand. My pale, clammy fingers wrapped around my bag, yanking it rather ungracefully over my shoulder. I stood up abruptly, making a beeline for the door.
(I'm glad!)
Oh, no. There was no way in hell that I was letting Mercutio get away from me after what had just happened. I leaned forward and caught hold of his backpack, using it to pull him sharply back to me. "You don't get to leave without an explanation."
“Fuck off.” I hissed, trying to enlarge a flame that had been quenched. I didn’t bother to fight back, stumbling backwards and almost falling over.
"No," I told Mercutio bluntly, seating him back down. "I would like an explanation for why an ally of the Montague family just broke down while holding my hand."
But to my shock and horror, I found that I was actually concerned for him, that I cared about the answer he gave me. What was happening to me?
“So you can use that against me too? Hell no.” I croaked, my throat still raw from choking back sobs.
Bile rose to my throat. Is that all he thinks of me? A moment later, I was regretting the thought. Of course it is. It's all you've done in the past.
"I'm not going to use anything against you," I found myself promising in a soft tone of voice, despite the fact that even saying so screamed danger.
“I… I’m just about to be in some trouble.” I responded hesitantly, chewing my lower lip.
"Because….?" I prompted, bewildered by my own gentility.
“Because you have my phone.” I finished softly, feeling the bout of anxiety start to surge again from the recesses of my stomach.
(I have to go, but I'll be back as soon as possible)
Oh.
My mouth went dry. Of course, How had I not seen this coming?
"How—" I faltered, trying to piece together a coherent sentence. "How much trouble?"
(If I don’t respond later, I probably fell asleep!)
I didn’t respond, staring at the floor instead.
(got it! XD)
Shit.
This was bad—regretting a move against an opponent was one thing, but sympathizing with them and understanding their fears? That was a whole different ballgame. "How much?" I repeated, balling my free hand into a tight fist.
“I—“ I paused to take a shaky breath. “I don’t know yet. But my mother said she wanted to call me around five since she wouldn’t be home… I didn’t tell her. She’ll find out.”
“Oh…” I whispered, averting my eyes. “I see.”
“Why won’t you let me go?” I asked, my gaze still locked on the floor.
I didn’t respond, too busy battling with my stupid conscience and broken moral compass. But the longer I tried to hold out, the faster my resolve crumble. Finally, I gave up.
“I’ll give it back.”
“What?” I looked up at Marina in complete confusion. “What’s the catch?”
“Nothing,” I muttered under my breath, already regretting the decision. “I’ll give it back.”
I didn’t know how to react. Shocked? Afraid? Excited? “Thanks.” I murmured quietly in response.
“I’m going to regret this…” I muttered, pushing hair back and over my hairline. “Just come with me after school.”
(I’m rereading this rp and crying oml)
I nodded, too worn out and embarrassed to argue or protest.
(Sjhdjdjska)
(Skip?)
(Yep!)