Page 13 of Scar

"Maevey!" Someone shouts from the center of the room. I plaster on a fake smile, turning to see Jessica beyond hammered and stumbling over to me. "Buy me a shot, Maevey!" She slurs. I catch her before she can fall into me, spilling a bit of her fruity pink drink on my white dress. Wonderful, I've never worn this, and it's probably ruined. "Jess, I think you've had enough." Itellher. But she pouts, giving me puppy dog eyes and a pouty lip. Even if I could afford it, it's my birthday. Why wouldn't she buy me a drink? Luckily, Sean comes and plucks her away before I have to respond to her demand, leaving me to go attempt to wash the alcohol off of my dress before it stains.

I'm alone in the bathroom when I walk in, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it. I blot the pink stain as best as I can, but it looks like this nice white dress just got ruined. I really want to leave, I hate it here. I hate people. I feel bitter that this is how my birthday is spent.

Maybe if I speed walk home I can eat a piece of cake before I get too tired? Think positive! I will have the energy for cake! I'm reminding myself of the cake waiting for me as I walk out of the bathroom, actually smiling for the first time tonight. "Hey!" The bartender yells at me. Wow, I didn't know a good mood could be ruined so quickly. Am I not allowed to use the bathroom if I'm not drinking? Am I even allowed inside if I'm not spending money?

I guess I'm about to find out because he's waving a finger at me to come talk to him. "I was just leaving, I'm sorry." I say as soon as I reach him. This guy waves a hand dismissively at me, slamming a very clean shot glass down on the table. He reaches back, standing up onto his toes to grab a bottle of something from the very top shelf and pours the clear liquid into the glass. "Happy birthday, kid." He tells me.

I want to cry. He told me to leave, and I can't afford the bottom shelf drink. Yet he just gave me top shelf tequila and was nice to me. Did I step out into another dimension? Does he think I'm someone else? Or do I look so pathetic that he took mercy on me so I wouldn't bring down the atmosphere of the whole bar? "Your tab is covered tonight. Every shot glass is disinfected twice, and everything is top shelf. Those are their rules." He tells me when I don't pick the shot glass up.

My eyeswiden,staringover atthismassive man. "What?" I ask in disbelief. Nobody cares about me enough to cover my tab for anything. Maybe this is Shelby's way of apologizing for being so crappy to me lately? Either way, I can't really complain. “Who?” I ask curiously. But the bartender simply pours me another shot of tequila. “I’m not allowed to say. But everything is covered, tip included. Go crazy, kid.” He tells me. I want to press him, I want to beg him to tell me who paid for my drinks. But I doubt that he’d tell me anyway. So, I take the shot in one go, surprising myself that it doesn't burn. I've always heard liquor burns. "Top shelf doesn't burn your throat like that cheap shit. What else will you have?" The bartender asks me. I smile.

Maybe my birthday won't be so bad.

Two hours later, I'm so drunk I don't think I can see straight. My friends are actually coming around and dancing with me, holding my hand, and not even leaving my side. They've taken a few of the shots the bartender has handed me, but I guess I don't mind. I see Shelby dancing with some guy, and I approach the two happily. I practicallyfallinto Shelby. But she catches me, she wraps her arms around my waist and helps me stay standing. "Hey, darling. Have a little to drink?" She asks me. I grin, nodding my head happily. The quick motion makes my head spin, and my balance is even worse, but all I can do about it is giggle loudly. "A little!" I announce.

I feel her fingers lightly dig into my hips, steadying me. "I can tell. How about we get you some water?" She asks me, again I just happily nod. "I've always wanted to act out a breaking and entering sex scene. We should do that!" I slur into Shelby's ear as she directs me towards the bar. She stops, holding me back by my shoulders. "What are you talking about?" She asks me. I know I'm drunk, I know normally my mind would filter these thoughts so they'd never see the light of day. But tonight, nobody toldmy mouththat. “Wouldn't that be hot? Someone breaks in with a mask on and chases you. Maybe get tackled and they have their way with you while you can't fight them off. Ooh, maybe they blindfold you or use duct tape!” I say happily.

Shelby pushes me back, making me hit the bar with an oomph. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She shouts at me. I didn't know it was possible to feel so sober so quickly. "That's sick, Maeve." She yells at me. I wish I could shrink into myself and disappear. We've talked about masks and rape fantasies before, about both of us having a thing for a certain horror character that wears a mask and kills teenagers. She seemed like she was into it as much as I was? I know it's strange to wish someone would tie you up and basically rape you. But it wouldn't actually be rape. It would be Shelby! That's what makes it exciting, it's someone you trust. "Maybe you should leave." She tells me, crossing her arms over her chest.

I give an embarrassed nod, turning to walk away whenCarliecomes up behind me. "Maybe you should look for a new apartment when our lease is up." She says to me, My eyes open wide, surprised at that. Why would she want me to leave? I always pay my rent on time. I keep clean, I don't use a single grocery of hers. Heck, I have my own cookware since she eats gluten! I should be the perfect roommate. "I don't need someone breaking into our place to act out your little fantasy and take me instead. That's sick." She says, almost turning her nose up at me. I have to actively try not to cry, so I just nod and walk towards the exit without a word to anyone else.

Chapter 17

Leon's POV

I've been at this bar all damn night. I corrected thebartendersbehavior towards my girl. Warned him calmly if he wanted to keep his hands attached to his body that he'd change his attitude, then handed him my credit card to make sure Maeve had a great night. Except it didn't quite play out like that. My girl has a CNC kink... interesting. I can't focus on that right now, though, not when her friends just publicly shamed her and told her to find a new place to live. I have to make a mental note to deal with them later. Right now, I have to make sure my girl is okay.

Maeve is practically speed walking down the sidewalk when I make it out of this crowded club. Her arms are tightly across her chest, her hair shielding her face from the world, and her steps are not too steady. I'm not letting her be alone like this. I jump in my car and speed off until I catch up to her. "Maeve?" I ask as if I'm surprised to see her when I pull up next to her on the sidewalk. She jumps, turning to look at me. She smiles, but I can tell it's fake and that she's been crying. "Oh, hi." She says with a small wave.

I smile back at her, pretending not to notice how upset she is. "Need a ride?" I ask. I can't let her walk the six miles back to her place. Okay, I can. I won't. But my girl smiles at me again, shaking her head no. "I'm okay, the air feels nice." She says. I know that's a damn lie. My girl hates the heat. She sweats when she exists. I've been lowering my AC lower and lower over the last few months so if she ever is mine, I'm comfortable in my own home. It's like a damn igloo in there.

I raise an eyebrow at her in challenge. I know that's not the lie she's about to stick with. I can see the sweat already forming on her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

Maeve ignores me and keeps walking down the street. Stubborn woman. I put my car in park, ignoring the honking cars that I stopped in the road on a busy Saturday night. I don't care. "Maeve, get in the damn car." I tell her as I approach her. She turns to look at me but keeps her face low. "I'm fine. You, however, are about to have about a dozen cars pissed at you." She tells me.

I shrug while lightly grabbing her arm. Her skin is so warm and soft, and even being in a crowded bar, she smells amazing. She smells like expensive tequila, but she also smells like her usual blueberry and now a touch of sweat. It's intoxicating. She is intoxicating. "I don't care about them. I'm not letting you walk all the way back to campus." Itellher. She tries to shrug out of my grip, but she ends up doing quite the opposite and falls right into me. Without any hesitation, my arms are around her like I've fantasized about for months. "Come on, ma petite fleur. You're far too drunk to walk that far." I say calmly. This time, she doesn't fight me. She sighs in defeat and lets me guide her back to my car, sitting her in my passenger seat.

I squat down in front of Maeve, tucking her gorgeous soft hair out of her face. "Tell me what happened." I insist. My girl crosses her arms across her chest, and her gaze focuses on her lap. "I just want to go home." She says quietly. I can tell she's holding herself together by a thread.

First, that dickhead professor bullies her all semester, then her friends try to skip out on the bill, then they humiliate her in front of a crowded club. My girl is too fragile to have to be treated so poorly. I handled that professor. His bones are fertilizing the roses I just planted last week. I handled the tab at the restaurant, and now I just need to handle her idiotic friends.

Nobody hurts my Maeve but me. I am the monster under her bed, I should be what is haunting her dreams. She shouldn't have a single other worry in the world than me. Clearly staying away from her has done nothing but hurt her. "Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it, ma petite fleur." I repeat. I don't have this level of patience with anyone else. But my girl is overly independent and stubborn. I know it's from years of neglect, I know it will take time to crack those layers of her so my Maeve can bloom. But I'm okay with that. It almost feels like I finally have a reason for becoming a psychiatrist. To help my love.

Maeve keeps her gaze low, staring into her lap. So I pinch her chin between my thumb and finger, turning her to look at me. I don't say anything, I can see it on her face that she's only holding it together because we don't know each other that well. Well, she doesn't know me that well. I know her. I know more about her than any sane man would know about a woman he'd met formally one time. I see the look in her eyes shift before I actually see her break. But a moment later, a tear runs down her cheek and breaks my heart. I wipe her tears away with my thumb and just stay squatted down watching her. She snaps out of whatever moment we're having when she hears the horns blaring around us. Fuck, I snap out of it, too. We're still parked on the road.

Idriveus back to campus in dead silence. Occasionally, Maeve will sniffle or adjust in the seat. But she won't say anything other than the occasional direction when we reach campus. I park in front of her complex and shut the car off, turning to face her. "What's wrong?" Iaskher again. I know what's wrong. She doesn't have a place to live anymore come the end of summer and all her friends just humiliated her on her birthday. But I want her to open up to me, to trust me to take care of her. But my girl just shrugs. "I just had a little too much to drink." She lies. Well, she's not lying. I may have enabled her a little too much, but I wanted her to have fun. "Okay, well, how about we get you inside, and you can sleep it off?" I offer.

Maeve actually lets me help her into her apartment. I know she's wasted by how she's not even questioning how I know which room is hers. But I help her sit on the side of the bed and hand her the pajamas she has at the foot of the bed. "Get dressed, ma petite fleur. I'll fetch you some acetaminophen and some water." I reassure her. Soon, she won't hide anything from me. But I'll give her the privacy she wants, for now.

Maeve comes back into the bedroom, stumbling into me. Clearly she’s seconds away from passing out, I need to get her situated before she gets sick. I sit her on the bed, guiding her to lay down. “That was a new dress…” She slurs. I tuck a stray hair behind her ear, staying squatted down in front of her. “What?” I ask her.

She sighs, staring down at her pajamas. The look on her face is fucking adorable, it’s as if she’s offended that she’s not still wearing her dress. “I just bought that for myself for Christmas. My grandma sent me the money. I didn’t even get to enjoy it.” She whines. I let out a quiet laugh, nodding as she rants on about her dress. “That’s okay, just use some stain remover. I’m sure it’ll come out.” I tell her to calm her down. She huffs, shaking her head no so dramatically that it puts her hair over her face all over again. “I can’t afford to have protein with every meal, you think I canafford stainremover?” She asks me.

I tuck her hair behind her ear again, stroking my knuckles across her soft face. “I’m sorry, petite fleur.” I tell her quietly. I will however take that dress home with me and get the stain out. “I don’t know what that means, but you sure sound hot saying it.” She slurs. Yep, she’s getting so close to passing out. I’m surprised her eyes are even still open. “My little flower, it’s french, my love.” I say with a quiet laugh. My girl simply nods, but she’s having a harder and harder time staying awake.

Chapter 18

Maeve's POV