Falling Apart

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Call me?! Anything?! I was so, so, so worried about you!” Jackie had her arms wrapped tightly around Marc’s neck, standing on tip toe in her flat-soled shoes so that she could reach his face.
“I’m sorry. It seems my mother decided to take a vacation too, so you couldn’t reach her.” He buried his face in her hair, noticing the streaks of mascara running down her face and the black lipstick smeared across her mouth. He’d never seen her wear makeup, so Marc guessed it was one of her personas again. Still, he kept quiet about it, brushing her wild curls. “I’ll scold her later.” He smiled.
Jackie pressed herself as closely as she could to his body, trying to fuse them together, so that he could never leave her side again. Marc laughed.
“What are you doing, silly?”
“Hugging you, obviously,” she mumbled into his chest, twining a leg around his. Marc felt a blush creeping up into his face.
“Now, now, must you cling so tightly?”
“Yes.” Her fingers snaked up under his shirt, feeling the rippling muscles of his back tense under her hands. She smiled. “Am I making you nervous?” she purred. She could feel the tightening of his pants against her waist. It made her feel powerful.
His heart was beating frantically in her ear. And then… nothing. He pulled away, pinning her wandering hands to her sides. “That’s enough, Jackie,” he said with unusual seriousness.
“What? Don’t want to make out here? We could continue in my room…” She smirked.
“Not now.” He pressed a finger to her black and red lips. “Not today.”
Jackie pouted and then laughed at him for his shyness, but in her chest, the rejection stabbed her through the heart. Marc had never told her, “no” before. It had always been a mutual understanding that they wouldn’t go all the way yet—it was too soon. But he’d never turned down making out or… touching, the way he’d just done. As she waved goodbye to him as he headed home, the pain crystallized, making her feel sluggish and heavy.
Trying to drown her disappointment, she played Dark Gaia for eight hours straight, then passed on her bed with the DSX still in her lap.

She dreamed of Cain—the strong, heroic fighter of the game, fighting against his personal curse even as he fought to save his home and world. In the dream, he was telling her about the battle with his brother, Abel, who had been corrupted by the Evil that was trying to destroy their world. He told her about the pain and suffering he still felt for having to spill his own kin’s blood—and the curse of that pain.
The taking of a life, he told her solemnly, is a burden and pain so heavy that it is often the deadliest curse of all.
I’m never going to kill anyone, she told him. But he only gave her a sad smile, as if he knew something she didn’t.

The next day, Jackie’s life returned to normal. She played her game through class and met Marc in the park afterward, where they would roll and laugh and kiss under their favorite tree. But it was beginning to seem to Jackie that Marc was pulling away from her—as if he’d found someone else on whom to bestow his affections. But that just made her cling all the more, pushing harder to tie him to her. He can’t go away. I’ll fall apart, she told herself frantically.
But why do you need him so much? Why? she asked herself. Why should your life depend on his whim?
She couldn’t come up with an answer.

A week later, she and Marc were sitting under the tree in silence, a meter of distance between them. Marc was reading a book—an old religious text. Jackie was playing her game.
Before, their relationship had needed no words, but now it needed them desperately—if only to survive.
Jackie stared at Cain’s face on the screen, his dark eyes sad and lonely. She looked over at Marc, whose expression was blank—only his eyes moving steadily across the page. Occasionally, he blinked. Jackie’s chest tightened.
“Marc?” she asked.
“Yes?” He didn’t look up.
Jackie bit her lip and closed the DSX. “Uh… Well… Is there… something wrong? You’ve been a little… different lately.”
The book was closed with a soft thmp. His soft, grey eyes were looking at her now. She found herself blushing. “I’m sorry. Some things… happened while I was away. …Things I can’t talk about.”
“I-I see.” She fiddled with her hair. “So, it’s not… me?”
His face softened and he smiled. “No, it’s not you, Jackie.” He scooted closer and ran his fingers through her hair, putting a hand against the back of her head to pull her closer. “I won’t hurt you.” He kissed her forehead. But his eyes were sad and belied his gentle words.
In her blissful ignorance, Jackie didn’t notice. She only grinned and kissed his nose. “I know you won’t. I trust you, Marc.”
He hugged her close, tucking his head into the crook of her neck, hiding the spasm of pain that had crossed his face at her words.