Wait, what? Me and Eminem?! (An Eminem Fan-Fiction) *Completed*

Chapter Twenty Eight

Okay guys, you all have been begging for this chapter so let's not waste any time but remember to read the author's note at the end!(: And just as a reminder, this chapter picks up right where the last one left off, so I recommend going back and reading the last little tid-bit to refresh your memory. c:

---

"This isn't true," I gasped after collecting my thoughts, lungs burning.  My saliva was thickening and I legitimately jumped out of bed and onto my feet, shoving the stray locks of tangled hair out of my face.

"Is it?" he mumbled, too shamed to even look me directly in the eyes, and my knees buckled. I struggled to remain standing and he faced away from me and the paper, unable to bring his eyes to the printed lies and falsely taken picture. From his position at the foot of the bed, he began pacing back and forth, but away from me, quivering fingers pressing down onto his temples as they ran across his scalp.

His hands were trembling, and his facial expression was unreadable as I watched him murmur crazily to himself. "Fuck," he cursed bitterly. "Fuck. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it. I knew it wouldn't last. Fuck. Shit." He ruffled his hair absently, steps heavy with heartache. He would turn to me occasionally and stare me down with pitiful eyes, but wouldn't manage to vocalize anything.

"Marshall," I attempted to soothe repeatedly, but my voice cracked every time I went to speak. "Marshall, calm down."

"I can't calm down," he protested raggedly, more distressed than enraged, and even though he would have denied it, it seemed as if he was crumbling brick by brick. "I just can't."

The room was dully silent, and what I began to do was the weakest thing I could have possibly done at that moment. I tore at my lip, snapping at myself for being so self-centered in such a sensitive situation, but the tears begged to be released from my eyes and the stinging sensation was so intense it felt as if I was going blind. And so, emotions a jumbled mess, I lowered my head. A single lone tear trickled down my cheek, and I was disgusted by myself.

"Why did you do it?" Interested, he softly piped up, arms rippling with menacing power, but I knew that he wouldn't and couldn't bear to lay a single finger on me. What happened last time wouldn't be the scenario this time, and it frightened me because of how unreadable everything was.

"Do what?"

"Go with...with h-him."

"I didn't, Marshall," I protested, remembering every single feeling I'd experienced with him. The warmth of his touch blazed against my solitary skin, and I longed for any contact with him. I was desperate, and I'd never been like this at all before.

"I trusted you," he confessed. "More than anyone in a while...fuck. I'm so fucking stupid. Just...leave." Shoulders sagging, he faced the open balcony, but I couldn't. My eyes were locked on him.

"Please. Please, please let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Marshall." My knees were knocking together. "Please look at me. I need to explain. Please."

I feared for a split second he would refuse, but my words got the best of him and he time-takingly twisted his body to face me. His mouth was crumpled as he tore at his bottom lip from the inside with his teeth. Eyes secured on mine, he expectantly awaited.

"Marshall." I began by speaking his name, letting the familiarity of it wash over my tongue and between my lips, terrified I would never be able to utter it again. "I would never hurt you. I know you. I've seen you and I've been with you." My speech was slow, and I did all I could to match his steady gaze intently, although I was light-headed from all the early morning exhilaration. "I...I care about you so much." Leaning against the closest wall, I continued, passion grasping my speech and taking it over.