Control

Chapter 4: Marcus

*Picture of how I imagine Marcus above! Mm...I don't know about you guys, but I say yummy. You can always use your own imagination though! (:

   A few hours later, a crashing commotion startles me awake. I cast a threatening look towards the source of the clatter to discover Marley. Jumping up and down on one foot, clutching the other to her body as though it would fall off if she let go. 

As I peer through heavy eyelids I see that our small oak bench, which was once slid against the hallway wall, is now laying on its side behind her. After a slew of curses and an empty threat to burn the bench later, she turns her attention to me.

Her dark curls are piled on top of her head, reminding me of a birds nest. The only thing missing is a random twig.

I smile, wanting to voice with her my humorous comparison, but the glare she sends me stops my funny side in its funny tracks.

"I'm late. Again!" She exclaims, reaching down to pick up her now dirty breakfast. She hobbles around the fallen bench to throw what remains of her half-eaten pop tart in the trash. A little harder than I find necessary, but I suppose that's understandable since she obviously just stubbed her toe.

"Good morning to you, too." I manage to mumble before she starts her exasperated rant.

"I woke up early, got showered and dressed in record time, I put away all of our clean socks, and still had time to make us both cheesy omelettes for breakfast!" Ley says, karate chopping the air in front of her with both hands to emphasize her statement.

"And you're acting like all of that is a bad thing....why?" I ask her as I sit up, thinking about that hot and cheesy omelette. "And why were you eating a pop tart if you just made breakfast?"

"Because I didn't make breakfast!" She yells in a 'duh' type of tone, throwing her small arms up in the air. Completely confused as to what's going on, I give her a puzzled look.

"Ley. You just told me that you made cheesy omelettes." I state slowly, trying to make sense of the situation. What kind of a joke is this? I understand she's upset about being late and all, but lying to me about cheesy eggs? That's definitely a new low.

She lets out a long sigh, seeming totally defeated, before plopping down on the couch beside me. My eyes unwillingly lower to the floor, where I notice she is wearing a pair of mismatched socks. One is solid blue while the other is white with orange bows. Lifting my eyes back to her I realize that her hair is not only a mess of a birds nest, but it's also dry.

What's going on?!

"I thought you said you took a shower?" I ask, my eyes roaming over her outfit; the same one she had on when she went to sleep last night. Gesturing to her feet I can't help but question further, "Aaand you said you put away all of the clean socks...?"

Now I'm not only questioning her choice of socks, but also questioning if Ley is officially going bananas. B. A. N. A. N. A. S.

She stares down at her feet while a distraught laugh leaves her tiny body. When she turns her head to look at me, our eyes lock onto one another, and for some strange reason..neither of us move.

Leys' perfectly tan face holds an expression of a child told they were going to Disney World, only to be taken to the babysitters house instead. Her high cheek bones are flushed a dark pink, making her appear all the more flustered, and her small lips are in the shape of a frown.

Her bright blue eyes hold my emeralds for a moment longer before she finally puts an end to our random staring contest and looks away. That was fucking weird.