𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

58b°/....And First Fights

Good morning, family.♥️

As expected,  I'm here. I realized y'all don't see the messages on my board, because I announced that I wasn't going to be updating the whole of last week and during the week, I was still getting dozens of messages, why na 😭😩Sha, no issues, I love you guys, but please be seeing the messages I post on my board, yeah??

And as a matter of fact, I have good news to share with you all, so go to my board now and see🌝♥️

Anyways, carry on with the chapter!🍷🍷🍷

~DABI~

I struggled.

I struggled so hard with Marcus, but it was all to no bloody avail.

No matter how badly I thrashed against him, no matter how much I screamed and hurled curses at the top of my lungs, kicked my feet hard and with wild abandon, punched around like a crazed maniac into the innocent air, hysterical, it still made no difference.

It was a bloody waste of time and energy.

Marcus was hell bent on taking me away from there, taking me away from the catastrophe I was begging so hard to create, pulling me away just as I was seconds away from stabbing that knife into that bastard's throat.

I fought and protested, and he was adamant, hell bent on doing everything to stop me. Anything that would get me as far enough from JJ as I could be.

And with my body, thrown easily over the mini-god's shoulder, a strong, possessive arm wrapped, gripped rather, around my waist in a lock hold I couldn't free myself from, and my legs hanging in the air, thrashing around in all my hopeless attempts to escape, Marcus sprinted up the stairway like a jet, easily, skillfully, and shockingly, skipping as many as three to four steps with me hung over his shoulder, like he wasn't even carrying something as weighty as a human being, but as light as a goddamn piece of cloth.

I couldn't believe it.

I couldn't believe how useless I felt.

How could this Marcus Acha of a guy jack me up like this, and dash around with me like I was a stupid feather?

Absolutely, ridiculously outrageous!

"Get your hands off of me." I grumbled, jumped grudgingly away from him as soon as he let me go and tried to drop me on the bed.

"Leave me!" I pushed Marcus hand away as he tried to help me up when my struggling with him caused me to fall over and across the bed foot.

Annoyed at him for a reason I wasn't sure of, I aggressively threw one of the pillows at him in all my rage and Marc stepped back, slightly taken back by my temper tantrum.

"You have to calm down, please," His voice was shockingly patient still, compromising too, almost pleading.

"Leave me alone." I warned him. My voice, stubborn and graveled.

He did as I wanted. Just as he always did. Even when all I was doing was being a bitch to him for no apparent reason that connected to him. I didn't understand how Marc could be so patient and so sweet. It was almost abnormal. And for a fact, it actually went a long way to die down some of the strong negative emotions that plagued me. Almost entirely.

"Aurora," He had called me softly, like he was trying to soothe me into calmness.

Almost was the keyword. He almost took away all my anger with his sweet, kind demeanour.