MEDIA ▷ BOB MORLEY

( viii. real life )

MEDIA.
(  CHAPTER EIGHT.  )

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"WHY ARE YOU sat here sulking?" It was late, around one am when he approached her brooding figure sat in the corner of the room.

The rest of the people in the home were in the other room, and both of them could hear the murmur of voices and music blasting from the room. It was her mother's birthday, and she was seated in another room with a glass of wine in her hands and a frown on her face. She was surely the heart of the party.

"Because I want to be here," she shot back sassily, raising the glass to her red painted lips and taking a rather long sip to be considered a sip, but she gave it no thought as she leaned her head on the comfortable pillows of the couch with a long sigh. "All I need right now is Bob's Burgers on the TV and alcohol in my hand, which I have. So, you can leave."

Bob furrowed his eyebrows, glancing towards the TV where Bob's Burgers was indeed playing, the scene making Amara chuckle to herself as she tried to ignore his presence.

It bothered him. Not knowing what was going through her head, he didn't like the frown on her pretty face or the look in her brown eyes. He wanted to know what was wrong, because he knew something was up. It hurt him, honestly. All he ever really wanted was for Amara to be happy, all the time.

"What's up, Mar?" Bob risked it, he had to. He knew she would probably be mad for prying, that's how she was, he had learned over some years of friendship. When she was upset, she was upset, there was no changing that. You could pry and ask but the woman would always ignore you, and that's what hurt him the most.

"Nothing," Amara was quick to mumble in reply, another sip of alcohol being taken, eyes glued on the TV. Bob frowned, shuffling closer to which she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes as he begin to speak once more.

"You know, you can try and ignore me all you want, but you know it's not going to work. I don't want you upset, so can you please just let me know what's on your mind?"

She hated him, she decided. No, she wished she hated him. Then it would be so much easier to ignore his puppy torn eyes and soft freckles and plump lips that formed a pout. It would be so much easier to forget the way his hands held hers and his thumb stroked soothing circles upon her skin. She wished she could tell him to go away and leave her alone — but she didn't want him to. She wanted him by her side. And that fucking sucked.

"I'm just tired," Amara sighed. She wasn't completely lying, she was tired. She just failed to mention what was really bothering her, and Bob seemed to know that — of course he did, he knew her too fucking well. But he didn't pry no more, instead his larger hands released hers and found her shoulders to which they began to rub her skin, the sudden massage she was giving causing her to groan in pleasure. "Fuck you, Robert." She swore, and that time she meant it. Fuck you for making me feel this way when I don't want to.

"Tell me whenever, babygirl." The man chuckled, the deepness hitting her very core. Fuck, hating him was becoming much easier, she thought as he continued to tease her. "You're really tight, Mara."

At that, her eyes flew open. Surprise flooded her face and she gulped, his voice sending shivers down her spine and his words, fuck his words, sending a new tingling sensation throughout her body. Dumbfounded, she stuttered a reply. "Um, what?"