No Boundaries, No Lengths - Fan Fiction Eminem

Misheard You

Salome POV

"I think I misheard you," I said, my voice carrying the anger that had started to bubble up like magma from within. "Did you just say that you needed to talk to me?"  Marshall nodded, his eyes beseeching.

"Huh," I said with a downturn of my lips as I turned to start walking toward my car once more. "You didn't need anything of the sort three years ago or in the time since."

I heard Marshall's steps falter and knew I'd tagged him with that verbal hit. I smiled grimly. Good.

"Sal, I've been looking for you for nearly that entire time." Marshall said, jogging back up to my side.

I didn't look at him. Instead, I dug through my purse for my keys. They always seemed to end at the bottom of whatever I carried, whether it was a huge satchel or a tiny passport bag. It was like a law of physics or something.

"Couldn't have been looking that hard. Paul knew where I was." I replied and noted another skitter in his steps.

"Paul fucking hid you from me," he gritted in response and I made a mental note to send Paul his favorite brand of whisky. Not only had he followed his promise, he'd taken it a step further. Maybe, I'd send him two bottles.

"You're a millionaire, Marshall." I noted dryly as I got level with my driver's side door. "If you wanted me found, you would have hired someone to track me down. It's not like I changed my name. I've been in the same city, for fuck's sake." I replied, finally rounding on him. He ran a hand over his head and I took the opportunity to get a real look at him.

Marshall had always looked mouthwatering when he dressed up and tonight was no exception. In his all black, tailored tux, he was a walking sex god. My hormones came to life as they remembered what he could do with those hands, what was under that fine fabric. That he now sported a beard was only icing to the pheromone-driven responses running rampant inside. I bet he'd be fucking magic, looking up at me from between my thighs. Damn, it really was too bad I'd learned my lesson.

"Sal, I couldn't hire someone to go looking for you. You know that shit would be all over the rags and then you'd have ended up in the spotlight again." Marshall argued. "I wouldn't do that to you." I laughed, a genuine, surprised response to his words. I shook my head as I tapped the button to unlock my car.

"No, you'll just walk out on nine years without any fucking explanation whatsoever. You're a goddamn hero, Marshall. Thank you so much for considering my feelings about the media getting wind that you had a change of heart. Really, I'm touched." I replied, opening the door to the driver's side and tossing my purse inside.

"Fuck, Sal. I-" Marshall cut off as he tried to come up with what to say. I could see the struggle on his face and, traitorous heart that I had, I felt a spark of sympathy for him. So, I gave a millimeter.

"Fine," I said, folding my arms and turning to him. "Speak. Tell me whatever the fuck it is that you've been dying to say." I put out my hands as he stepped closer. "Don't you dare touch me." I ordered, my voice low with the thrumming anger. This magma was going to turn to lava in a hurry when the volcano blew.

"I fucked up, Sal. I let shit get inside my head and, instead of talking to you, I pushed you away. It was never your fault and I regretted it when I finally got my head out of my ass, but you were gone. Please, baby. I've never needed anyone the way I do you. For the rest of my goddamn life, you are the only woman I'm ever going to want." Marshall said, his words laced with desperation and feeling and tugging at the tiny little bit of my heart that was still beating properly.

That part of me wanted so much to forget what happened. It wanted me to catapult myself into his arms, to inhale his scent as his hands brought me the comfort that I'd been dying for. It begged me to do it, to just let go of the pain and take the happiness that he was offering.

From the distant corner of my mind, I realized that Marshall had come close enough to touch me, but didn't. He wouldn't ignore my order, but he was invading my space, the warmth of him radiating and causing my pulse to become even more erratic. I looked up into those beautiful eyes of his, unable to say anything.

"You still love me, Sal. We both know it. But, now you know that I still love you, too. Not a fucking day has gone by without you. Every damn minute, I was still tied up in you. It'll be that way until the day I die, baby. You're it for me." Marshall said, his eyes solemn and seemingly so sincere.

As I looked into his eyes, I felt a piece of me slide back into place. I'd been right, before, when I'd internally acknowledged that Marshall held parts of who I was. In this moment, he gave me back one of them. I smiled up at him as my soul welcomed the long lost chunk of itself. I was so damn grateful that he'd done it. I nodded as I looked to him, my voice finally returning.

"Fuck off." 

--

The following morning, I walked around my apartment in a newly acquired band shirt, a cup of coffee in my hands. I wouldn't need to be back at the library for another couple of days, which was good, because I had some errands to run. Although, I thought, as I looked over the apartment, I could also just binge watch some terrible T.V. Jerry Springer sounded right up my alley today.

After I'd so eloquently ended the conversation with Marshall last night, I'd gotten into my car and headed home. The look on his face when I'd spoken those two words had been worth every second of the millions of times I'd considered what I'd say to him if we ever crossed paths again. In my more dramatic imaginings of our interaction, he'd been on his knees while a seven foot tall Highlander built of nothing but muscle and sex was standing at the ready to avenge my poor heart. While I hadn't had that moment, I'd certainly had one hell of a shot in the arm when the shock had leeched his face clear. I giggled as I took a sip of my coffee. I almost felt like going dancing, it'd felt so good.

Turning on the tube as I moved into the kitchen to scrounge up something worth munching on, I congratulated myself on holding firm. I may still be in love with him, but there was nothing I could do about that. I could, however, protect my heart from being ripped out of my chest again.

I was still mentally patting myself on the back when I heard a knock at my door. I set my coffee down and moved to the peephole, seeing a bouquet of stargazer lilies take up the circle. I opened the door and the delivery guy handed them to me with a brief smile and then left. As I closed the door, I pulled the card out and read it.

I love the way you look when you're angry. Love, M

I sank into the wall, closing my eyes as I realized my mistake. Twelve years ago, the two words I'd uttered last night had secured Marshall's interest. He'd spent months, just trying to get a date. Now, as I held my favorite flowers, I knew.

Marshall wasn't giving up.