Changed {Martin Garrix Fanfiction}

Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty - Do You Want to Have Sex? 

- Madeline's POV - 

My feet hurries from the building, cursing to myself for Martin being so fast. Two questions linger in my head, one; why did he get so heated and two; where did he go? Even though most people are at dinner, there are a few walking and such. I debate whether or not to ask them if they have seen him. I choose not to, thinking that they might have suspicions if I ask where did Martin Garrix go? 

I get frustrated as I am almost back to the cafeteria and I still have not seen him anywhere. I almost give up until something in the back of my mind whispers; the abandoned building. I want to shake my head and think that it would be absurd for him to go there right now. Then again, it was worth a shot. 

I divert my direction towards the all too familiar building and it appears in minutes. I look around half paranoid before I open the door. Good, no ones here, I say in relief to myself. I quickly enter the dark filled hallway, my eyes catching onto the door to our secret place. It's half open. 

I have to keep myself from running down the hallway, but I make it there fast enough. When I approach the door, my hand pushes it more open and as if a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders, there he sits on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. 

"Why did you follow me?" he snaps under his breath, not looking up. He is still heated. His voice gives him away immediately. 

"I- I was worried," I half stutter, feeling like an idiot that I did come and find him. Maybe he wanted to be alone... Suddenly, he moves his hands to the back of his neck, his eyes looking up to me. 

"Why?" his breathing is heavy and uneven. The sharpness in his voice makes me cringe. Even though his gaze is harsh, I don't look away from him. 

"I don't," I pause, searching his eyes. "I don't know, you just seemed mad and," I stop abruptly, not wanting to ramble on to him. His eyebrows crease heavily and I notice his jaw is clenching in the slightest way possible. 

"I fucking hate that bitch," his eyes move away from mine. He leans forward on his knees, his elbows promptly sitting on top of them. "She has no right to say that shit," he shakes his head. A look of frustration crosses his angered face. 

"Martin," my voice is low trying to calm him down somehow. Hesitantly, I stride over to him, stopping to be just a few inches from him. His hooded eyes glance up. "What's wrong?" I ask him, my own eyebrows furrowing at him in confusion. "You're clearly not okay and -"

"- And what Mads?" he snaps again. "You're just going to feel sorry for me in the end anyways," he purses his lips, a slight hiss emitting from his tone. I wince at his words. What's that supposed to mean? 

"That's not true," I protest lightly to which he looks up at me fully with a confused yet surprised look. 

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asks and it slightly takes me aback. I definitely was not expecting a response like that. Something in the back of my brain tells me a lot of people have lied to him and let him down.