Naive Boys

7|| Girls

Chapter Seven:

"Macbeth," Bash tapped her shoulders, she casually swung her blond her over her right shoulder before she turned her attention to him. She observed how his chocolate short hair had grown a few centimeters.

"Hi Bash," She suppressed her tinted red lips into a forced simple smile.

"Whoa, you're not mad at me anymore?" Bash cocked her an eyebrow, deep inside he was jumping up and down like a silly boy.

"How could I possibly stay mad at my friend who jokes around, even when he hurts me." Macbeth finished with her hands tucked in the pockets of her jeans. And she was at the park, gathered with a few girl friends, when Bash noticed her as he was smoking a joint. He knew how much Macbeth hated when he smoked.

"I care so much for you," Bash explained, and by nature he took a step closer towards her.

Macbeth suddenly forgot how to breathe, and her hands involuntarily changed from her pockets to the pockets of Bash's black sweater, he held her tender soft hands within his. Friends weren't suppose to do things like these, Macbeth and Bash thought.

"Don't say that," she pleaded, those same blue eyes that captivated Bash's chocolate ones. He found himself frowning at her spoken words.

"I mean it," He insisted, another step closer so their feet merely touched.

She shook her head, it was disapproving how the soft wind caressed her gentle natural face, upon the glares of the sun lights, he saw the constellations upon her face, he could see his, hers, their future marked onto her delicate face.

"If you cared, you would of have noticed how I want you so bad." They were both stunned by her statement, because it was true, what she felt for her best friend was inevitable, she knew it would happen, but he didn't.

"You want me?" One corner of his mouth began to curl into a respectable smirk, a genuine one that teased her as she meet the ground instead of his wondering eyes. She slightly nodded, hoping he wouldn't see her. But Bash always noticed things like these, these little things Bash was thought of forgetting to notice.

Bash was taller than Macbeth by a couple of inches, probably he was 6 foot something, although he wasn't taller than his brother Sullivan. He leaned his body against hers, she has trouble staying stable as her weaken legs became jelly. Macbeth always dreamed of this exact moment, when she was young and watched Romantic movies with Bash who constantly complained about the cliche moments. This was definitely one of them, she knew. Macbeth turned slightly to her right and Bash dived for the opposite side, their mouths connected into a blissful slow kiss, until she brought her cold hand under his shirt, touching his abdomen, she felt him hard, it was when he hooked his hand behind her neck, pulling her closer to him.

A make-out session show wasn't the brightest idea when a numerous amounts of toddlers and kids ran nearby. As Macbeth kissed him, she tasted him, cigarettes. He wanted to be repelled from the dangerous taste, but he was toxic and she liked that. Until she finally decided to pull away when Bash guided his hand under her shirt.

They both gasped for air they'd stolen from each other.

The was a slightest pause, then Bash pulled his sweater over his head and put it on Macbeth who accepted it. She could smell cigarette and a mixture of sweat and grass. She was already used to this smell.

"You should stop smoking Bash," Macbeth was slightly upset with the possibility of Bash getting cancer, lung or throat cancer are the consequences to such thing as smoking. She quickly waved goodbye to her friends who giggled and laughed at her and Bash, they'd always knew Bash would steal Macbeth's heart. Bash brought his arms around her, and they both began walking, she could feel his muscles even though she was wearing a shirt and his sweater.

"Then I won't be addicted to something," Bash teased.

"I could be your new addiction," she proposed.

"Then I won't be able to quit you," Bash responded.

Macbeth lightly chuckled.

"That's the point," she smiled.

They both walked to his place. And when they arrived they found the horrifying scene of finding Jupiter and Sullivan struggling in between punches and throws. Bash immediately ran up to separate them both. Bash looked at Jupiter with a bloody nose and Sullivan with a faint bruising on his cheek.

"What the hell happened!" Bash pined Jupiter against the wall, preventing him to throw another punch because from the look of his anger, it was Jupiter who probably started the fight.

"He stole my girl!" Jupiter spat blood that had trailed from his nose to his mouth, his teeth stained with blood and a mixture of saliva.

"Cath is not yours!" Sullivan persisted. Bash turned to look at both Jupiter and Sullivan, back and forth.

"You guys are fighting for Cath really?!" Bash was angry now, seeing his brothers fight for a girl is- "Both of you are stupid, girls aren't worth it! Dating is pointless! Instead you should all fuck around with them! Like I do!" Bash screamed.

The room was stuck in silence, the moment Bash realized what he said, he looked at Macbeth. Her mouth was slightly parted open, in awe. Her blue eyes were filled with water that slowly started to spill.

"Hey! Beth! Wait!" Bash called after she started to walk away. Bash struggled to choose in between his brothers or his potential girl he swore he'd cared about, he'd hurt her about two times now. She was a few steps ahead of her, he saw how she began taking his sweater off. Again, Bash called after her. When he approached her, he saw tears running down her cheeks. He hated looking at her in that state.

"What Bash! The moment I think you care about me, you turn the table around and here I am like a stupid girl willing to make a better person out of you!" Macbeth always imagined turning Bash into someone caring, she was probably wrong.

Bash pursed his lips together, then puffed some breath juts like he does when he secretly smokes.

"Beth, I will be honest with you. I fuck things up, I'm a fuck up. And if you're willing to deal with an asshole, here I'll stand with my arms open. Macbeth, do you really want to deal with me breaking your heart? Because that's bound to happen, I will fuck you up, fuck us up. Fuck everything up." He took his sweater away from her, and again, pulled it around her. She knew he only spoke truth, and if she was going to be heart broken, might as well be Bash who does it. She stood on her tip toes, and pressed her lips on his cheek, just closely to his jaw. Bash closed his eyes, and remained his hands around her shoulders.

"It's destined to be hard," Macbeth whispered in his neck, her breath brushing on his burning skin, "Right?" she asked.