??????? ?? ??? ????? | Marcus White

Valentines Day Dinner {sub part}

A beat of silence had worry building in the tips of your toes all the way up to the top of your head. "I'm only joking with you." A relieved huff of air, and a cheerful smile made its way onto your face, a warmth filling your cheeks as Marcus spoke again. "It looks better on you anyway."

"I mean, I don't think it would hurt if you took it back for a little while." You pushed your self off of the couch, though reluctant to leave Marcus's warm hold behind, and towards the coat rack, pulling the oversized jacket off of the rack and pressing it close to your chest. Holding it with both hands, you tucked your head down into the soft material, it smelling more of you now then it ever had of Marcus. "It's starting to smell a little too much like me. That's not why I kept it, y'know."

Walking back across to the couch, you pushed away the discarded and empty chocolate box away from where you were sat, and sank down next to Marcus. Holding the jacket out to him, he graciously took it, toying with the fabric between his fingers.

"Well, I can't see any harm in that." Thankfully, Marcus still had the exact same supplies he'd used last time, keeping them, and using them, unsaved you ever happened upon any of his clothes. "I should probably get going now, though. It's getting dark out."

The bedroom door wasn't far away from where you were sat, in fact, it was facing you; cracked open and beckoning and waiting for you to ask such a simple question.

"You don't have to go, y'know."

"Are you sure?" Marcus was immediately unsure. He didn't want you to feel like you had to let him stay over, the dark of night threatening and the warmth of your apartment welcoming. Honestly, if he'd never said anything, he would've talked the night away with you, hoping the pair of you would fall asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other. "Well, I mean, if you've got the spare pillows. I don't really need any blankets, my mom says I'm like a human radiator."

"No, Marcus..." Reaching out for his hand, you shifted slightly closer to him, playing with his fingers as you avoided his eyes. "I meant you could sleep here, like, in my bed... With me."

Marcus sat silent before you, entirely unmoving - you weren't even sure if he was breathing. However, his face flushed red and his eyes gripped onto yours, always meeting them I matter how much you tried to look away. "Only if you want! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything... especially after the whole harassment thing at work today."

"I though the video said what starts in the break room, shouldn't end in the bedroom?" You couldn't tell if he was teasing you or chastising you, any kind of indication lost on you amidst your worry. "It's a good thing we first technically met outside the store, huh."

Marcus no longer cared he was meant to be starting his shift at 10am tomorrow morning, and he no longer cared that he'd be showing up to work in yesterdays clothes (though if he was being honest it wouldn't be the first time), or that he'd have to come up with some half-assed reason as to why he was wearing the same clothes as the day before.

He was being welcomed into your home yet again, though this time in such a more personal manner and he wasn't sure if he could handle it. His heart felt like it was going to beat outside of his chest, his face felt like it was on fire and the tips of his ears were red hot. How you had this effect on him, he didn't know.

Solidifying the grip of his hand in yours, you pulled him from the comfort of the couch, clicking the tv off as you rushed around the living room in an attempt to clean up the space a little. Less mess in the morning would have tomorrows you thankful.