Marjorie Diaz's Unfortunate Introduction to Magical High Society

They say love makes you crazy

She ends up back at his place again. Barely a week after their weird garlicky date, he suggests meeting there since they live so close together. She can't think of an excuse to not go, so there she was, sitting on his couch with a playstation controller in hand.

"I've said it once and I'll say it again: you suck at video games." Marjorie says with a laugh after she beats the shit out of him in Call of Duty.

Patrick huffed. "I'll have you know this game is old and I'm a little rusty."

"Sure, sure," Marjorie said. "Meanwhile I've never played any of these games and I am still wiping the floor with you. It's like you don't want to win." She leaned over and bumped him with her shoulder.

"Maybe I'm already winning," Patrick said, his lips pressed against her ear.

Marjorie jerked away from him violently. "Don't be gross," she said, shoving him to the other side of the couch. "Actually try to beat me at this game or this is no fun for me. I don't care about all this cutesy letting girls win stu--"

"How's that?" Patrick asked, killing her character instantly.

"Hey!" She said. "I wasn't even paying attention!"

"Sure, sure," Patrick said with a smirk. "Meanwhile I just landed a headshot on you without even trying."

"You're a dick," Marjorie growled, leaning across the couch to wrestle the controller out of his hands and throw it down on the cherry wood coffee table in front of them.

"And you're a sore loser," Patrick said, allowing himself to be wrestled down on his back against the couch. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smirked up at her when she was half laying across him and half shouting expletives in his face.

"I am not," she hissed between expletives. "I just want you to play fair--"

Patrick leaned up and nuzzled his nose into her throat. "I am playing fair," he said, voice deep and low.

Marjorie took a sharp breath and pulled back from him slightly. "How is it that I'm always ending up in these kinds of positions with you?" She asked.

Patrick shrugged up at her, running his hand through her short black hair. It was clean and brushed today which was more than she could say for most other days, but the touch still made her anxious.

She pulled away from him a little bit, biting her bottom lip.

Amusement danced in his eyes, his hand still resting on the back of her neck.

She frowned. "I'm not, uh, I don't," she chewed the inside of her cheek. "What about Adorara?"

This time, Patrick pulled away from her until he was sitting on the couch and she was in some sort of awkward position where she was half on the couch, half off.

"What about her?" He asked, meeting Marjorie's gaze. "Do you really think so little of me? That I would be here with you if she were still in my life in the capacity?"

Marjorie frowned. "I don't know," she said. "I don't really know much about you, Patrick. I've only just met you this semester and--"

"I wouldn't," he said, cutting her off. "I wouldn't be here with you if she were still in my life."

"Then why were you flirting with me from the beginning of the semester? You guys were still together then. I know because I definitely saw the two of you making out in Johnson Hall." Marjorie said.

Patrick looked away from her and down at the arm of the couch he was now leaning against. He picked at the fabric there absently. "I couldn't help myself," He said, voice so soft Marjorie barely heard him.