The Best Intentions // A Mumford & Sons Fanfic

The Best Intentions - Oneshot

To Marcus, there was something special about having someone to spill his hopes and aspirations to. Someone to talk about sports and books and silly television shows with. He had to admit that much. He absolutely adored her.

He and Carey had been writing to one another for almost a year now. He told her things that he wouldn't dream of admitting to some of his closest mates. He didn't know what it was about her, but she made him feel that way. She made him feel like he wanted to be honest. Not like he had to be. It was different. It was like he wanted to tell her anything and everything that ever went on in his life.

He was proud to say that he never once lied to her, either. Sure, perhaps he was guilty of stretching the truth a bit and boasting about his footy escapades, but he never really lied to her. He was good. He was team captain for a reason, after all.

And so the day came when he decided to try and meet up with her. Though, as it would seem, it would take a bit of planning. As well as waiting for a vacation. And perhaps a friend to join him on said journey.

"Hey, Marcus," Ben asks, peeking over his bowl of spaghetti to gaze at Marcus. "What's up with you, mate? You're really... quiet. It's a bit frightening if I'm being honest. You okay?" 

Shaking his head to himself, Marcus mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like a curse word, or two. Pushing his own bowl of dinner away, he mumbles, "I've just had a long day. I need your opinion on something, Benji. If you don't mind." Ben's brows fly up and his chin comes to rest on a hand, as if he's waiting for something. He merely nods to his friend, waiting for Marcus to offer an explanation of some sort. 

With a bit of an awkward expression, Marcus goes on to tell his best mate about Carey. About how they've been writing to another for years and how wonderful she is. Benji's grinning like an idiot by the end of Marcus' little speech, his chin propped up on two hands now. 

"You should meet up with her," Ben says a tick or two later, once Marcus has actually stopped for a breath. Nodding his head, as if to show his enthusiasm, he adds, "I mean, why not? You've already been saving up, like you said. So do it, mate. Girls love that kinda stuff."

That has Marcus laughing. Truth is, he'd give just about anything to know what it feels like to hug Carey. To hold her in his arms and press his cheek to hers and revel in her warmth. Being with her sounds heavenly. They could go to the movies or something. Or maybe out to dinner. It doesn't matter, really, as long as they're together. And good lord, what if he gets the chance to kiss her? The prospect alone has him buzzing with excitement.

What the two don't know is that James is coming down the staircase. And unfortunately, he hears everything. It's not until a few days later that James catches Marcus on the phone, chatting with someone about his little trip that he decides to finally speak up about this supposed love interest of Marcus'. 

"You're an idiot," James broadcasts from across the room, interrupting Marcus midstream. "You're a right, proper git. She writes you for god's sake. Isn't that evidence enough that she doesn't want to see your face in person, Marcus? I mean... You should take my advice and go spend your money on something better. Maybe a new guitar or something of that sort. Don't spend it on a girl. She doesn't seem worth your summer wages."

Huffing quietly, Marcus dares to toss a glare in his brother's direction. "You don't know anything," he mutters with mild disdain, the words nearly coming out as a growl. And, with that being said, he apologizes to whomever he's on the phone with before they say their quiet goodbyes and eventually hang up.

"She likes me," Marcus all but divulges to his pain in the arse of a brother afterwards, eyes narrowing a bit in his direction. "She genuinely, really likes me, James. Not like you'd ever understand. Human emotions and all that. Look at you, picking up a different girl every other day. And here I might have found the right one and you're criticising me. I'm not like you, James. When I find a girl, an amazing girl, I have to hold onto her. They don't come flocking to me like they do with you. Carey's sweet. She's funny and beautiful. And she wants to be an actress." 

There's a tick or two that pass between them, a slight fizz to the air. They're both annoyed with one another, that much is obvious. "Look," James starts to say, a perplexed expression marring his features now. "You're a nutter, okay. You two write one another letters. This isn't Romeo and Juliet. This is the real world, mate. No one cares about romantic notions. Not when you're teenagers, anyway. Get out and make some friends. Meet some girls. Grow a pair and ask a real, tangible lass out. It's not that hard. I promise." 

Sighing in defeat, Marcus lets his forehead come to rest on the kitchen table. "Sod off," he utters quietly, opting not to say anything else on the matter. He doesn't really know what else to say. He's all out of words.

Maybe, just maybe his brother is right. Maybe it's utterly ridiculous that he's saved up for a whole summer to take the tube and meet Carey and take her out to a nice dinner. Maybe he's just a numpty. 

And with that thought in mind, that he's probably just wasting time and money, he decides to scrap the entire idea. And it's just as well, really, because Carey never even replies to the letter he sends out in the post the following day. 

He waits and waits and waits but nothing ever comes.