11 January 2013
I followed Marshall towards the busy students union; it was the only place on campus to get a real cup of coffee and thus was always filled with bleary-eyed and hungover students, desperate for a caffeine injection between lectures. And as it was lunch time there was already a noisy crowd of sports students in the bar, drinking beer and playing pool. As we walked, the silence hanging a little awkwardly between us, I noticed how people stared at Marshall, and at me too for walking beside him. I wanted to hold his hand as if to say 'yes, I am with him,' in reply to their disapproving looks. I walked closer, falling into step with Marshall.
"It's Rosie Taylor, isn't it?" He asked, as we wove our way through the packed café.
"Yes," I smiled, realising he must have noticed me in lectures - it wasn't surprising, I did have a habit of asking awkward questions in class. We passed a group of girls in perfectly matched outfits with manicured hair; I recognised them from my seminar group. They whispered and laughed to each other, clearly talking about Marshall and I. I'd been on the receiving end of their scorn before for my tumbled messy hair and random, mismatched outfits, but I didn't care. Marshall blushed, his face downcast. I looped my arm in his as we joined the queue for coffee and he blushed harder.
"You don't have to do that," he grimaced, "I'm used to being laughed at. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking bringing you here where everyone can see us."
"I'm not ashamed to be with you," I said, as loudly as I dared. The gaggle of 'perfect' girls just stared at me. "I'll have a hot chocolate please."
Marshall smiled softly; I'd never seen him smile before and it took my breath away. Little dimples formed at the corners of his mouth and his slate eyes seemed to glow. I couldn't help but beam back at him, my heart in my throat, an almost irresistible urge to kiss him bubbling up inside me.
"You should smile more often," I said, "it suits you."
He looked away, a deep blush colouring his cheeks and neck. I just watched, quietly enjoying being near to him, as he ordered our drinks. He bought me the biggest hot chocolate I have ever seen, complete with whipped cream and a scattering of tiny marshmallows. Although the café was busy, we managed to squeeze ourselves onto one of the leather sofas, our bodies pressed together snugly.
"So are you enjoying Uni life?" Marshall asked. He constantly fiddled with his hair, trying to hide the scarred side of his face from me. I pretended I didn't notice.
"It's good," I replied, "the course is fun and living in halls is...interesting."
"Yeah, that's one word for it," he raised an eyebrow sceptically. "It's an experience, that's for sure."
"What are you doing tonight?" I asked suddenly. My brain was, unfortunately, two steps behind my mouth as usual.
"Uh, I was heading into town to watch a few bands in the Cellar Bar," he answered, nervously. "Would you...um, maybe, if you're not busy already I mean, if you want to...If it's your kind of thing, I don't know if it's your kind of thing..." He trailed off, despondent.
"I'd love to come with you," I beamed, licking whipped cream off the top of my drink. Marshall laughed, that wonderful smile etched into his face. I glowed inside at the thought that I'd made him smile like that. I'd never really had a successful love life - I'd had a handful of dates with nice guys, but none I'd ever really wanted to see more than once. Or rather none that had ever wanted to see me more than once. I guess I found it hard to connect to any of them, and I practically repelled most men with my impulsive ways and silly behaviour. But Marshall...maybe I was being stupid but I felt like I could be myself around him, even though I barely knew him. Seeing as things had started so badly between us, everything seemed to be going well. I was wandering how long it would last before I put my foot in it when I caught Marshall staring at me, a bemused look on his face.
"What?" I grinned, suddenly aware I had cream all over myself. I was playing the fool for his benefit and it seemed to be working.
Marshall wiped whipped cream from my face with his thumb and licked it off, sending my stomach into an explosion of butterflies. I dipped my finger in the melting mess on top of my drink and boldly daubed it on his nose. He looked a little shocked, but started to laugh as the chocolatey cream dribbled onto his lips. I leant forward and kissed him, unable to resist. He froze and for a moment I thought I had gone too far, until I felt his hands weave into my hair and his lips return my impulsive kiss. It must only have lasted ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
"Sorry," I said bashfully, when he finally pulled away. His hands were still teasing through my hair, sending glorious shivers down my back. "I hope I didn't...go too far?"
"Don't be sorry," Marshall's eyes were fixed on mine, his cheeks flushed, his lip trebling, "that was perfect." He turned away, suddenly shy and said; "I've never kissed anyone before. I mean, no one has ever wanted to kiss me, until you."
"I've been thinking about kissing you for a while," I closed the space between us and deliberately kissed his cheek on the scarred side of his face. Marshall gave a little sigh of pleasure at my touch; his skin was cool and I could feel the texture of his scars beneath my lips.
"Thank you," he breathed into my ear. "I could do this all day, but we have to get to class."
I looked around the café; it was practically empty. I had been so wrapped up in Marshall I hadn't noticed that the lunch break had finished and everyone had filed out to afternoon lectures. I looked at my watch - we were already five minutes late.
"Oops," I grinned. I didn't care, it had been worth it.
Scars - Part Four • Opuss № I