Ties and Guitars (Fiolee)

Chapter 34: Intruder (Final Chapter)

(Warning: possible cutting triggers)

"Do you have to go?" I asked. Marshall smirked and placed his forehead on mine, the tips of our noses touching as I pouted up to him.

"It's only for a few hours" he assured me while taking my hands in his.

"I don't want to be alone..."

"You'll be fine, it's a recording session. I'll be back before dark, don't worry"

I sighed and looked down, ever since the accident I've never been with out him...so I was really nervous to be alone.

"Hey" he lifted my chin so I looked up to him again. "Don't worry, nothing's going to happen. You'll be safe as long as the door is locked and you don't let in strangers" he instructed. I frowned, I knew that.

"That's not what I'm afraid of" I informed him.

"What's bothering you then?" He asked.

"I'm scared I might forget what little memories I remembered...and I won't recognize you when you get home" I confessed.

He chuckled "that won't happen, I promise" he smiled down at me and pressed a kiss to my lips, sending tingles down my spine from his mere touch.

"I'll be back, okay?" He grabbed his keys and started to leave me, holding on to my hand until he was too far to reach.

"Okay" I replied. "Come back soon" I begged.

"I will, don't miss me too much" he warned.

"I already do" I muttered.

He smiled "I do too"

"I love you" I reminded him.

"I love you too, see ya later" he called before closing the door and leaving.

"Bye" I sighed. Silence filled the room as I looked around. Over the past few days I've gathered a few memories, but not many. Theres too many holes in my timeline and I'm mostly confused, in one memory we're strangers and in the next we're confessing our love for each other. The more I thought about it, the more migraines and headaches I got, depending on how hard I thought about it. Most nights I couldn't sleep, and Marshall had to either sing me to sleep or tell me stories about us that I forgot. I couldn't even remember how I lost my memory, Marshall told me a fan shot me in the back of the head, but why would a fan be mad at me? Sometimes I remember some explicit things when we make out a lot, and it usually prevents me from going any further do to more headaches. It always made me feel bad because we usually want to continue but we can't. I sighed to myself in the big empty room, unsure of what to do for the next few hours. My feet wondered to our room and grabbed my book, apparently I was reading this once in the blank space a memory used to be. Reading makes me sleepy, I'll probably be asleep by the time he gets back, but it might spark a few memories. I plopped down on the bed, opening the book to the first page and immersing myself in to the story line as I read. The plot did sound familiar, like I've read it before somewhere. My stomachs growled 7 chapters in, but I was too in to it to tear my eyes from the page so I just got up with out stopping. When I got to the cupboard I completely forgot about my hunger as the story intensified, making me flip the page eagerly. My legs got tired from standing around, so I turned around and sat up on the counter, the cold surface sinking through the fabric of my skirt. Strange...this position and the book seamed familiar. I couldn't help but long for Marshall to be in front of me, missing his touch on my waist and his lips on mine. The book slowly closed as my mind wondered away, unable to shake this feeling and these desires.

"You wanna try that again?" He asked whispering in to my ear. Silence took over me as he pressed a soft kiss to my ear that acted like a sedative and calmed my racing heart. I turned around to face him and he backed me up in to the counter, the cold granite soaking through my skirt and making my back cold. His lips were held above my own, brushing his skin against mine as my hands made their way to his strong arms. He parted his mouth upon the skin of my lips, starting the kiss and slowly but surely working them more and more eagerly with every second out lips touched. I reciprocated his undying want and wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him closer to me when he lifted me up on the counter. He stood in the middle of my opened legs, sliding his hand over the fabric of my skirt to the black stockings that covered my legs.