Cell Phone || Marco Reus

Chapter 8: Doubtful

It’s dark when he opens his eyes. Marco blinks a few times to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the room. Like having a mind of its own, his arm automatically reaches to the other side of the bed. There’s nothing. He can only feel the smooth covers and sheet under his hand. A pang of cold fear creeps in the pit of his stomach, slowly spreading to his entire body.

She’s gone.

The clock on the nightstand shows that it’s a bit over half past two in the morning. No, he shouldn’t be worried; maybe she’s in the bathroom. But one look at the dark bathroom and the opened door tells him that she’s not there. Okay, now he can begin to panic. He steps out of bed, looking for his boxers that must be somewhere on the floor. He quickly finds them near the foot of the bed. After he puts them on he takes a deep breath to compose himself and leaves the room.

The entire flat is just as dark as the bedroom. When he enters the living room, his eyes are immediately drawn to the silhouette close to the window. His face breaks into a smile as relief starts to wash over him. Carefully, so he won’t surprise her, he walks towards her. She’s standing by the window, seems to be absorbed in the scenery of the city lights outside.

“Hey,” he says softly.

She turns to him and smiles briefly before looking back at the view, doesn’t seem surprised by his presence. “Hey.”

“How long have you been awake?”

She shrugs, still not looking at him. “I’m not sure. Half an hour, perhaps.” He doesn’t think it’s a good sign that she’s not looking at him. After what happened earlier tonight, is he wrong to expect, well, a warmer reaction maybe? But she seems somehow guarded—and distant. The relief that Marco felt when he found out that she was still here gradually evaporates, and the unpleasant coldness is slowly creeping back.

“Don’t do this,” he says. “Please.”

Sara-Maria turns to look at him. Just one look at her face, that’s half illuminated by the lights from outside confirms his fear. “Marco…”

Marco doesn’t let her finish. He puts his hands on her shoulders, looking deeply into her unsure eyes. “You’re in doubt again. I can see that.”

She blinks, holding his gaze. “It’s just—I don’t… “ she trails off, gently shaking her head. ”Well, it’s like, I wasn’t myself last night... I let my feelings get the better of me.”

“But what’s wrong with acting on your feelings?” he asks.

“I don’t do that,” she blurts out. “I never let my feelings mess with my head. ” She stops and looks away, and then whispering softly, “…I shouldn’t feel this way about you.”

He moves his hands from her shoulders to her face, gently making her look up at him. “Do you regret what happened last night?”

It takes her a moment before she replies, in a very low voice. “No.”

He releases the breath he doesn’t realise he was holding. That makes Marco feel better. And she’s still here. “Let’s go back to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning, when our minds are clearer,” he tells her softly, caressing her cheek with his thumb. At first he’s slightly worried that she would object, but much to his relief she merely nods.

He takes a hold of her hand and gently leads her back to the bedroom. When they reach the bed and he has turned one bedside lamp on, he notices that she’s wearing her blue, work shirt. “Are you going to sleep wearing that? It must be uncomfortable.”

“Yes. But I don’t have any other clothes with me. And I’m not used to sleep na—without clothes,” she corrects herself. Even in the inadequate lighting, he can see that she’s blushing. It takes a lot of willpower for Marco not to pull her into him and kiss her again, senseless and hard, chasing all her doubts away.