PAPER RINGS || MARCUS LOPEZ.

𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍

It was only after Dylan had put her phone away that she remembered that Marcus knew where her dorm was, that there was no need for her to pick him up and show him the way.

She wondered what was wrong, he seemed off about something and she knew frighteningly little about him. Nothing about his past, his family, what his life was like before Kings Dominion.

What she did know was stories from his childhood, football in the park with his dad when he was six, baking with his mom at seven. She knew he was complicated, from the stories he'd told her in someone's parents dimly lit bedroom at two in the morning.

Truth be told he knew nothing about her either, only similar stories that she had told him about her own mother and father, one or two about the odd ex boyfriend but nothing actually informative.

When she saw the boy stood outside his dorm, dressed in his patterned pyjama bottoms and grey sweatshirt, she couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face.

❝ Finally, I've been here for ages. ❞ Marcus sighed, straightening up and pocketing his phone once the echoing of her heels grabbed his attention.

❝ If you think five minutes is ages I pity your girlfriend. ❞ Dylan scoffed, holding her hand out for the boy to take ❝ Oh, wait, you don't have one! ❞

The boy took her hand, linking their fingers together while rolling his eyes ❝ Yeah, well, it looks like we're in the same boat in that regard. ❞

All that could be heard the rest of the way to Dylan's dorm was the click-clack of her heels echoing throughout the empty hallway and the shuffling of Marcus' ratty converse.

The dorm was a bomb site, rejected outfits strewn around the room and cardboard boxes full of her belongings. Nevertheless, Dylan simply shoved everything off of the bed and plopped herself down, gesturing for Marcus to join her.

❝ I am never wearing heels again for as long as I live. ❞ Dylan groaned, pulling the boots off and discarding them at the foot of the bed.

She said it every time she wore heels,and every single time it was a lie. Just like whenever she woke up with a hangover and swore she'd never drink again.

The belt was the next thing to go, hung off the chair that belonged to her vanity.

❝ I, uh, brought you something. ❞ Marcus spoke up, watching the girl that stood with her back to him as she removed her party attire ❝ You said you were cold. ❞

He held out a black hoodie, she hadn't noticed it before but he must've brought it from his dorm for her.

❝ Thanks. ❞

Manicured hands came out to take it from him, another smile crinkled the sides of her eyes as she slipped off her dress and replaced it with the hoodie.

Dylan practically leapt into bed, covering her lower half with the blanket and holding her arms out as an invitation.

❝ Come on, ❞ She spoke softly ❝ you demanded to see me, the least you could do is give me a cuddle. ❞

❝ I did not demand. ❞ Marcus protested, climbing into her bed and allowing her to tackle him into a hug.

Dylan just hummed in response, wrapping her arms around the boy who had laid his head on her chest ❝ What's wrong? ❞

There was a silence, his arms wrapped around her middle and head nuzzled into her chest, eyes closed as his chest rose and fell steadily.

❝ I'm exhausted, Dee. ❞ He mumbled ❝ I'm — I'm not like these people. I'm not a killer, but I can't leave because then where do I go? Back on the streets? ❞