The buzz of chatter filled the student lounge, and Betty had just walked in to grab a coffee when Megan’s voice pierced the air like a knife.
"She’s his latest project," Megan sneered to a small group of classmates seated near the window. Her tone was sharp, her words deliberately loud enough to carry. "We all know how Marcus loves fixing things. He gets bored otherwise."
Laughter rippled through the group, their faces lighting up with the cruel amusement Megan thrived on. Betty froze, her chest tightening as the words struck deep, far deeper than she wanted to admit.
She knew Megan was lying. She knew this was just another attempt to get under her skin, to make her question everything about herself. But the worst part? Betty wasn’t entirely sure Megan was wrong.
She wasn’t even sure what was happening between her and Marcus. He had a way of being completely present one moment, like she was the only person in the world, and then retreating the next, leaving her questioning what they really were. Were they something real? Or was she just a fleeting distraction for him—a "project," like Megan said?
Her throat tightened, and she turned on her heel, walking out of the lounge before anyone could see the crack in her facade.
She found Marcus outside near the quad, leaning casually against a bench with his phone in hand. His relaxed posture and easy grin only added to the knot of frustration and insecurity twisting in her chest.
He looked up as she approached, his smirk softening when he saw her expression.
"Hey, Betty—"
"Am I your project?" she blurted out, her voice sharper than she intended.
Marcus frowned, straightening immediately. "What?"
"Is that what I am to you? Something to fix?"
The surprise on his face was genuine, but it didn’t make her feel any better. "Betty, where is this coming from?"
She hesitated, biting her lip. She hated the crack in her voice when she spoke again. "I don’t know what to think anymore."
"Come here," he said firmly, taking her hand before she could protest.
He led her away from the crowded quad to a quieter spot beneath one of the campus’s old oak trees.
"Talk to me," he said. "Is that what you think? That I see you as some kind of… charity case?"
Betty stared at him. She knew Megan was lying, but deep down, the insecurity was already there, waiting for someone to press on it.
"I don’t know," she admitted finally. "Maybe. I mean… people keep saying it. And I don’t even know what’s happening between us, so how am I supposed to know what to believe?"
Marcus stepped closer. "Betty, listen to me. You’re not a project. You’re not something I’m trying to fix, or some passing distraction. You’re the only thing in my life that feels real."
She blinked up at him, completely caught off guard as he reached out, cupping her face with his hands. His thumb brushed her cheek. "You’re not something to fix, Betty. You’re everything."
Her breath caught, and she felt herself leaning into him before she even realized what she was doing.
When her lips met his, it wasn’t like the other times. It wasn’t teasing or fiery. It was slow, deliberate, and steady, as if they were trying to tell each other everything they couldn’t put into words.
Her hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt. The tension in her shoulders melted, replaced by a warmth that spread through her, grounding her in the moment.
They pulled apart and Marcus rested his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t let her get in your head. She doesn’t know you. But I do."