Long Way From Love (Mark Free fanfiction)

Chapter 4: Pizza Hut Mishaps?

I sat in the car, just staring off into space. The trees kept passing by in a massive blur. In reality that made me nauseous. I put my hand to my head and closed my eyes, hoping we would hurry up and get to the pizza place.

  I haven't felt good lately. It's probably because I got a wine bottle to the stomach about three days ago when my mom got mad at me. I now have a deep cut in between my belly-button and my left breast. Trust me when I say that hurts, it don't sound bad, but the cut is deep.

"You okay?" Mark questioned, sounding concerned. He turned into the small parking-lot of an old Pizza Hut that we come to a lot.

Mark was still looking at me, awaiting an answer. "Yes, I'm fine." I said quietly. He pulled into a parking space and turned the car off. I went to open the car door but Mark stopped me.

He gently pulled me closer to him and reached to lift my shirt. I jerked away and he looked me in the eye. It was obvious he was concerned but I just did  want to tell him.

Mark sighed and rested his hand on my knee. "Please, I know there's something wrong with your stomach, so please let me see." He conveyed. "How did you know something was wrong?" I questioned because well... How did he know.

"Monday you threw-up, yesterday you wouldn't eat much and today your holding it. So please let me see." He told me and once again pleaded. Sympathy was obvious in his eyes.

"Okay, just don't get mad at me for not telling you."I sighed. It wasn't that I was scared of him being mad at me, it's that I'm scared of him getting mad at my mother or something around that nature. I don't think he would do anything because he's pretty calmed natured, but I don't want to feel guilty.

Mark pulled my shirt up and examined what was there. A large cut that still was somewhat opened and a very large bruise that covered most of my stomach and breast. His fingers traveled along the cut, I flinched away when it started to hurt.

"How far up does that cut go?" He asked. I thought for a second. In all honesty I haven't really looked at it. I'm scared to know how deep it actually is. 

"I don't know, I'm kinda of scared to look." I spoke somewhat whimpering. He looked at me almost as if he told me to show him. Strange, right?

I looked down and lifted my bra a little until the cut stopped. I got lucky because it didn't go to far up, so I didn't have to show him that much.

As Mark examined more of the bruise and scare on my chest, something shone in his eyes. An emotion that I can't quite put my finger on what it is. It almost looked like he was restraining himself from something. And my suspicion was verified. His hand was squeezing the leather seat in the car like his life depended on it.

And his other hand was tense as it traveled along my swollen front side. What was he restraining from? Is he hiding something? No, we're best friends, he wouldn't do that. Then what was wrong? He hasn't really acted like this before around me.

Mark's grip on the seat got tighter and he put more pressure on where he was touching me. "Ow!"  I gasped. 

His eyes, that I didn't realized were closed, popped back open and his hand pulled away. "Sorry!" He apologized. 

My gaze looked to a hand print that was left on his seat. I looked at him, worriedly. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Lets go inside." He said quickly, when he noticed my worried look. Something strange just happened and I have know idea what actually just happened. That probably made no since.

Mark hopped out of the car and I followed. A grin was covering his face like nothing happened. He took my hand and we walked inside. Strange.

But I smiled to. "Are you going to want anything to eat?" Mark inquired. I thought for a second. (I felt like eating something with bacon so yes. "Yeah I guess, Something with bacon." I responded.