The drive was silent, the hum of the engine and the faint hiss of the tires against the road filling the void between them. Betty stared out the window, her mind replaying everything Brent had confessed, each word cutting deeper than the last.
When Marcus finally pulled over, the world seemed to stretch out before them—a secluded overlook bathed in moonlight, the city sprawling below in a sea of twinkling lights. Betty opened the door, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stepped out. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked to the edge, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
"I’m so tired of being the one left in the dark," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Welcome to my world," he said extanding her a flask.
Betty eyed the flask skeptically before taking it. She tipped it to her lips, the burn of whiskey hitting her throat almost immediately.
"God, that’s awful," she rasped.
Marcus smirked, taking a sip himself. "Awful helps sometimes."
Betty leaned her head back, closing her eyes and letting the cool air wash over her. For a moment, it almost felt like she could breathe again.
"Why are you even here, Marcus?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible.
He shrugged, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Because I know what it’s like to want to disappear."
She turned to him, her eyes searching his face. In the stillness, their gazes met.
"I—" she started but Marcus leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss. It was hesitant at first, almost testing, but when she didn’t pull away, it deepened. Her hands found their way to his shirt, her fingers tangling in the fabric as the kiss grew more urgent.
"This is a bad idea," she murmured against his lips, her breaths uneven.
Marcus smirked, his voice a low rumble. "That’s why it feels so good."
The remark sent a shiver through her. She gasped, shoving him back. "You think you can just—"
"I know I can," he growled, pulling her back into him with a force that made her knees weak.
The kiss became frantic, a collision of anger, frustration, and a desperate need to feel something, anything, other than the hollow ache that had consumed them both. Betty’s fingers slid under Marcus’s shirt, her hands trembling as they roamed his skin.
"You’re so damn infuriating," she muttered, her voice shaking with emotion.
Marcus laughed darkly, his tone rough. "Funny. I was about to say the same about you."
He opened the back door, and before Betty could think too hard about what they were doing, they tumbled into the cramped space. Her back hit the seat as Marcus hovered over her, his lips never leaving hers. The windows fogged almost instantly, the car filling with the sound of shallow breaths and the rustle of fabric.
Her nails raked across his shoulders as she pulled him closer, her body arching into his as their movements grew more heated. His hands gripped her waist, his voice a low rasp in her ear.
"Tell me you don’t want this."
"I hate that I do."
"Good," he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck. "Then we’re even."
When his hands brushed against the edge of her dress, he paused, his eyes searching hers for permission. She nodded, swallowing hard as she felt his fingers trail along her skin, his touch light and careful.
"Did you miss this?" he said. It wasn’t a question actually, but she still murmured, “Yeah”. Cheeks burning.
Marcus’s hands cupped her face. "We go slow.".
Betty’s breath hitched, their movements deliberate and unhurried. Marcus never rushed her, his every touch patient and careful, his focus entirely on her.
When her dress slipped past her hips, pooling around her thighs, Betty felt the cool air brush against her skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating between them. .
Betty’s cheeks burned, her heart pounding harder than ever as their bodies finally came together, it was slow and careful, every movement deliberate. Marcus guided her, his hands steady on her hips as he murmured quiet reassurances. Betty’s breath hitched at the unfamiliar sensations, a mix of discomfort and anticipation that quickly gave way to something deeper, something that made her pulse race.
"Just breathe," Marcus whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. His voice was low, coaxing, and she found herself clinging to it like an anchor.
She did as he said, her breaths coming in short gasps as her body adjusted to his. The initial awkwardness faded, replaced by a growing connection that felt almost overwhelming. Betty’s fingers dug into Marcus’s shoulders, grounding herself as their movements became more fluid, their rhythm syncing naturally.
The air inside the car grew warmer, the windows fogging up completely as they moved together. Betty let out a quiet gasp, her hands clutching at Marcus as he leaned down to kiss her again. His lips were softer now, unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second.
Betty’s world narrowed to the two of them—the heat of his skin, the strength in his arms, the quiet murmurs he offered whenever she hesitated. She didn’t feel self-conscious anymore. With Marcus, she felt... wanted.
When it was over, they lay tangled together in the cramped backseat, their breaths mingling in the thick, hazy air. Marcus’s hand brushed over her hair, his fingers trailing lightly down her arm. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "You okay?".
“Yeah.” Betty nodded, her heart was still racing, her mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened, but she felt oddly calm, like something heavy had been lifted from her.
For once, the world outside didn’t matter. For now, she was here, with him, and that was enough.