Melody's P.O.V.
"Can I ask you something?" his tone suddenly turns serious as we are laid up in bed together.
"Sure," I reply.
I don't really know why, but I start to slightly pull away from him.
Only for him to pull me back close.
"The first time we met," he starts. "Why did you throw yourself at me like that? My first thought back then was it was just of who I was, but I then realized that you had no idea who I was. I thought at first that it was just part of your game, but it really wasn't. So..."
I was expecting him to ask me anything, but not this.
"I mean, I don't know, Marshall? Why does it even matter now?"
"I don't know, I just... I guess by this point, I'm just used to girls wanting me for who I am, being famous at all, but not like, for who I am as a person."
He actually sounds so... vulnerable when he says that, I can't help but to feel for him.
"But you can't think like that, Marshall. Plus, when we first met, not to pop your bubble or anything, but you weren't even THAT famous. Which is exactly why I had no idea who you were," I say jokingly, trying to somewhat break the ice. "So maybe I really just... thought you were that hot, you know?"
"Yeah, ok," he says. I can tell that he's trying to sound dismissive, but I can hear a tiny smile in his voice.
Then he turns serious again.
"And then you told me you ain't never had sex before. I remember how crazy it was that you would just give it up to me just like that. Don't you girls always want y'all first time to be special? Not with some random ass person?"
"I don't know, I mean, in a way it was kind of special to me. It was the first time I've ever felt that way. Like I... wanted somebody."
"What you mean?"
"I just... I just never felt like I ever wanted to do it with anybody. Until I met you," I say quietly.
"Yeah, and until you went with that random dude at the bar," says Marshall. His arms are still wrapped tightly around me, but his voice now turns bitter, causing me to almost shrink into myself.
The way he says it, with so much venom, almost makes me recoil from him.
"It wasn't like that," I whisper, suddenly feeling very subconscious.
"Damn, Mel. Why did you have to do that?" He still sounds extremely angry with me, and in turn, it causes me to start getting angry as well.
"Oh my God, Marshall, do we really need to talk about this right now?! And do you really even have to ask me this? I mean, you fucked Kim that night. After how you used to feed me bullshit lies for months about how you were not even into her like that anymore. And it really hurt me. It shouldn't have. I mean, I had no room to get mad at you about that, not really. It's not like we were ever really... a thing. But I was still so mad at you, and I just wanted to... give you a taste of your own medicine. I just wanted to spite you. I mean, isn't it obvious?"
"Well, you know what, Mel, if you wanted to spite me, you got exactly what you wanted. Hope it made you happy when you did that shit!"
I want to respond to that so badly, but end-up biting my lip instead.
We lay there in thick uncomfortable silence for a while. Then Marshall starts with the interrogation again. Although this time, his voice is slightly softer in tone.
"And then you gone tell me, that fucking asshole was the last dude you've been with, until I showed up at your place that night drunk."
"Oh my God, would you let that go?!" I turn my head slightly towards him. "I wasn't even into it with him. It was kind of horrible actually!"
"So, he wasn't better than me then?"
"Are you kidding?! Wait, are you like... jealous?" I ask incredulously. I try to turn towards him again, but Marshall holds me firmly in place.
"Hell no, I ain't jealous. I was just curious that's all."
"Yeah," I smirk. "Sure you were. And he wasn't better than you. So you can calm down."
We get quiet again, then I ask:
"Were you really that angry with me? Because of me sleeping with somebody else. I mean, it's not like we were..."
"What, together, Mel?" He snaps. "See, you keep saying that. It's not like we were ever together," he mocks in a high-pitched voice that is obviously supposed to be me. "Only we were, weren't we? I mean, I know it was never said between us, and I never flat out told you that, but we were fucking together. I mean, shit, why do you think I was taking you everywhere with me?! I might have never said that to you, because of my issues or whatever, but I've always thought of you as my girl, you know what I'm saying?"
"Huh?! What, no! No, Marshall I have no idea what the fuck you are saying!" I break away from his arms and sit up in the bed.
He sits up too, and we face each other now.
"I have no fucking idea what you are even talking about, because if you never told me that, and we've never discussed it, then how the fuck was I supposed to know that you thought of us as together?! Matter-of-fact, you even said yourself, on multiple occasions, that we were NOT together. Like whenever I would get upset when I saw you with other women, or if I asked you something about Kim, you would empathize to me how that was none of my business, cause me and you were NOT together. But now, all of a sudden, this whole time you thought that we were a couple, and I was supposed to know that how, read your fucking mind?!"
"Yo, you need to..."
"What, Marshall?! I really need to what, chill, watch my mouth, what is it?! Cause you are not making any sense to me right now!"
"Yo, do you think I don't know that?! Aight look, Mel, I fucked up with you. I did. I should've just told you how I felt, back when we were messing around on tour. And I should have never fucked Kim again, aight?! I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I swear to God, I never meant to. It wasn't about me still being in love with her or anything like that, I'm just so fucking used to her, and she knows that. And it was just so easy to fall back into that same pattern with her at that moment, but you know what, Mel," Marshall reaches out to me and takes my face between the palms of his hands, "I am so sorry for that. I ain't never meant to hurt you, I swear to fucking God I haven't."
I take a deep breath to hold back the traitorous tears, threatening to start building up in my eyes once again. Here this boy go, making me cry for like the third time today.
Before I could say anything though, Marshall pulls me closer to him and kisses my lips gently.
I feel myself melting into him, as he wraps me in his arms and coaches me to lay down next to him again. And normally, we would fuck at this point, like as soon as he would so much as touch me or kiss me, it always ends up with us having sex. But this time, it's really not about that. It just feels super comfortable to lay next to him like this, all wrapped-up around each other. And he honestly just feels like home.
We spend the rest of the day in bed, and it feels so natural to me to just be laid up with him like this.
"So anyway, I was also gonna tell you," Marshall says to me afterwards. "There's gonna be a release party for D12's album in like two days. I want you to come with me."
"Okay," I reply.
We are back in the spooning position, and it feels extremely comfortable.
"Aight good," he actually sounds relieved about that, which I find both cute and hilarious.
"I'll need something to wear though. I guess I better go shopping tomorrow," I ponder more to myself than to Marshall. "I didn't bring much with me here. I wasn't exactly planning on coming all the way to Detroit and staying with you for a few days. I still can't believe I did that, actually."
"Why, you regretting it or something?"
"No, Marshall, of course not. I'm just saying, I wasn't exactly planning on being away from home for a whole week, so I barely brought anything with me. I don't have anything I could go to a party in, and nothing to even wear like every day for that matter."
"Do what you gotta do. As long as you chill on them short ass dresses," he suddenly says, and I really can't tell if he's for real or just joking.
"Are you serious?" I ask incredulously. "You're playing with me, right?"
"I'm not, Mel. See, now that we are getting everything out on the table, I'll tell you something. Honestly, I hate them dresses you like to wear so much. I mean, you look good as shit in them, you look hot, but it's driving me crazy to think about everybody else out there seeing you like that."
"So what are you saying? Do you think you're about to tell me now what I can or cannot wear anymore?"
"Nah, I ain't about to try to tell you that. Mel, you're a grown woman. I'm just letting you know how I feel about it, that's all. I don't think you realize how possessive I get about you," he says, pulling me closer to his body.
"How possessive?" I ask in return, backing my behind into his crotch. I can just feel the build up for the 3rd round, even though by this point, I honestly feel fucking exhausted, but oh well.
Also, I know that this whole possessiveness he's talking about right now is not cute at all, but... well, it is kind turning me on a little bit, if I'm being honest.
"Well, it's like this, Mel," Marshall says into my ear, his hand begins to slowly snake it's way to the front of my body. Yep, i definitely lied about... a certain no sex thing. "Every time I see you about to leave the damn house dressed the way you dress, I literally feel like I want to just run behind your ass, and tackle you or something."
"Yeah? And then?"
"I don't know. Tie your ass to the bed or something, so you couldn't leave."
"What is it with you saying you gonna tie me to beds all the time?"
"Shit, I don't know."
"But seriously, Marshall, do you really not trust me that much that you have so many issues with the way I dress?"
"Nope, I don't trust you," he deadpans, And I damn near snap my neck trying to turn around and stare at him. "It ain't nothing personal, baby girl," he shrugs. "I don't trust any female."
"So how do you expect it to work then?" I ask, referring to whatever it is we are doing.
"We will get there," Marshall simply says, wrapping me in his arms again. "But like, I'm dead serious about this, I don't like for my girls ass and tits to be on display for anybody but me. And you are my girl, ain't you?"
I get a warm fuzzy feeling when he calls me that, but then I snap right out of it.
"So what you expect me to do, wear turtle neck sweaters? Maybe like one of those hijabs Muslim girls wear? Be covered head-to-toe?"
"Hey, it don't seem like half bad idea," I can just hear the smirk in his voice.
"No. No way in hell!! Marshall, you can't be serious!"
"Chill, I ain't serious," he laughs a little bit. "Not entirely anyway. No, I don't expect you to cover yourself head-to-toe to toe, but like... I'm just letting you know, I guess that I can be a very possessive person. When it comes to somebody I'm with. So don't be surprised if I flip out on you from time to time, when you are out there dressed the way that you are, and all the dudes are staring at you."
I feel so confused. I have no idea if he's complimenting me right now or trying to pick a fight with me.
He's so damn confusing sometimes.
One thing for sure though, I've got it really fucking bad for him, and I'll stick it out with him. No matter how it would end this time...