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[screenplayed]

＊ musicplaying‌ .

Roger swallowed thickly at the sound of Mark’s voice, even just thankful he was able to talk again now that the needle was out of his hand. He was pissed, at himself mostly, for letting something like this even come close to happening. For giving in, again, and buying this shit and letting it put Mark in danger and he definitely deserved any anger Mark had towards him at this point. He’d fucked up royally now, that much he knew, and sighed as he continued to hold the gauze in place, pulling out a band aid with one hand. Letting go long enough to open the band aid and place it over the wound, Roger chewed on his lip, knowing that now it was covered, the fight was most likely resume. 

“ Can’t you just take the fucking apology for once? ” He frowned deeply ( at his own dramatics or at Mark, he didn’t know ) as he pulled his hands away, leaning against the counter behind him and legs stretched out. He’d fucked up, he knew he had, and he definitely deserved all the bitching Mark was going to do about it now and in the coming days, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to bitch right back about it. “ Fuck… ”

ROGER'S ABRASIVE REMARK hangs in the air like a thick fog, and MARK is struggling to breathe in it. if MARK could say he was surprised that ROGER put his defenses right back up as soon as the moment was over, he'd be lying. yet, MARK still sits in disbelief, dumbfounded at ROGER's response. shifting and hugging his knees as tight as he can, MARK stares off into the distance and lets tonight's events — ROGER's almost relapse, their ongoing fight, the soreness throbbing in his palm — weigh down on him. everything — this all feels hopeless, or helpless . . . maybe both, like there's no point.

IS IT GOING to be this way forever? MARK thinks, turning his head to look at ROGER with a dejected gaze, and it's as if ROGER's refusing to meet it. what now? he doesn't want to do this anymore — he's beyond furious, he's disappointed at ROGER and funneling pure hatred at himself. but for the most part, he's tired. his mind wanders back to before the needle had impaled his hand, when he and ROGER were both in a screaming match with each other. ' i don't trust you ' and ' i know you don't '. MARK had been heated, spewing words he didn't really mean because he was hurt . . . he didn't mean it at all. but is that how ROGER really felt? 

NO — that's not why. he asked ROGER to follow him because . . . because he wanted ROGER to be at his side. MARK wants ROGER to get better, he wants to see the spark ROGER had back when they were younger, he wants ROGER to perform again, he wants him to grieve and overcome and heal. because he loves him. he loves ROGER so much, and maybe that's strangely vulnerable and inappropriate for MARK to realize right now . . . but he wants ROGER in all kinds of ways that he can't begin to describe.

AND THE FACT that ROGER alluded even for a second that MARK doesn't want him around, it just makes him angry all over again. it's hypocritical, it's selfish to feel that way, when MARK had said the words himself: he doesn't trust ROGER. but how could ROGER even say that? how could he, after everything MARK had sacrificed for his friend . . . he's saw him dead, for christ's sake, and he still sitting here next to ROGER. even after tonight, no matter what, MARK will always stand for him.

BUT HE CAN'T stop the next words that come out of his mouth: ' are you SERIOUS? why the fuck should i accept your apology? ' he shakes his head, scoffing. he had meant to say something else, like ' please don't leave ', ‘ i’m scared ‘, ' i don't want to fight with you ',  ' i don't want to lose you ', ' i love you ',' i'm sorry ', ANYTHING ELSE, but it's out of MARK's hands now. whatever was going to play out, was going to play out.

[screenplayed]

＊ musicplaying‌ .

At the mention of ‘ something bad ’, Roger had to stop himself from imagining the worst – which, in their case, was usually extreme in some way, but usually also warranted. Of course, his mind settled on ‘ what could be worse than telling her that you’re still in love with her ’, a look of exasperation on his face until he actually spit it out.

He rolled his eyes, looking away from Mark. This was close to what he was thinking ( and even what he’d class an extreme worst case if he was honest ) and yet he was still upset. After everything he’d done to get away from Maureen’s claws, he got roped right back in, just like every time. But, if he was honest, he wasn’t surprised. “ Yeah, well, I knew that was just a matter of time the moment we both knew she was in town. ” He grumbled, fingers drumming on the back of the couch. “ What happened to ‘ moving on ’, huh? ” 

FROWN ON HIS FACE, MARK should have known this would have been ROGER's reaction. he wants to say that ROGER should have a little more faith in him, but then again . . . here he is, pathetic and drunk and still hung up on MAUREEN. sudden shame and regret took over as he laid there, emotions that would return tenfold when he woke up in the morning. and maybe it was just because of the drinks he had, but he could hear the bitter disappointment in ROGER's tone.

THAT'S A GOOD QUESTION, but MARK doesn't have the sense to answer it. he groans, unable to lay still. ' i don't know, ' he mumbles out, because he really doesn't, and ROGER is right. ' i shouldn't - i shouldn't have, ' he continues, trying to reason through it. because all sleeping with MAUREEN did was dig up old feelings and make MARK forget all the reasons he's supposed to hate her ( according to ROGER ) and lead to a night like this . . . there was no stopping the inevitable. and like a reflex; ' SORRY, ' he mutters.

[screenplayed]

Charmed ( 1998 - 2006 ) Episode 2.03, The Painted World

[screenplayed]

＊ defyingrcvity‌ .

                ONCE MARK JOINED her on the couch, it was pretty clear that the guy was far more intoxicated than she was at this point. at least she could still sit without swaying at the spot. when he asked for stoli, aliz smiled and nodded. motioning one of the waiters to come over, she asked for a small glass of stoli and a big glass of water. “ alright then, mark cohen. “, she said as she turned in her seat to face him, offering him a smile. “ you’re going to let me know when you start feeling sick, right ? “, words falling from her lips in the form of a chuckle. giving him more alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea – even though aliz reminded herself she wasn’t the guy’s babysitter. letting her gaze wander across his features once again, the woman placed her hands on his cheeks before saying: “ you’re so precious looking, mark. i can see why anna likes you. “.

IT MAKES MARK smile warmly, drunkenly at ALIZ's question. her concern makes him have only a sliver of appreciation, the rest of his mind wandering as he moves in closer. ' i'm - i'm NOT gonna get sick, ' he tells her, words only slightly above a mumble. it wasn't necessarily true, but MARK found it fairly easy to keep his drinks down ( for the most part. if he were more sober when ALIZ had asked him, MARK would have been momentarily plagued with memories  all the times he's gone overboard, with ROGER and COLLINS and even MAUREEN ). he just had the tolerance of what he would think a toddler would.

LEANING INTO HER TOUCH, he closes his eyes and chuckles under his breath. he doesn't even say thanks, but continues anyway, bold under the influence, ' well . . . do you like me? '

[screenplayed]

＊ tangcmaureens‌ .

MAUREEN'S SULTRY VOICE makes MARK dizzy. he leans into her touch, her warmth, and he's reminded again of how badly he's missed THIS. not just sex, not just MAUREEN, but this closeness. intimacy that he can't get with anyone nowadays. MARK's gotten desperate, and yes, he did miss those first two aforementioned items — all three combined making a coil in the pit of his stomach turn — but the contact alone from anyone ( especially MAUREEN, the girl he'd always be weak to ) is making his head spin.

MAUREEN PULLS HIM IN — physically and metaphorically — she pulls him in with the devilish look in her eyes, her warm hands . . . he isn't even the one who's had alcohol here tonight, but he's more and more intoxicated by every move she makes. she comments at the way he's looking at her, and he knows he’s been caught. MAUREEN knows him, knows he’s weak. he's rendered helpless by his ex - girlfriend as he plants fervent kisses down her face, he'd always fall victim to the vixen that is MAUREEN JOHNSON.

OH YEAH, he thinks belatedly — bitterly — as her lips meet his for the first time in who knows how long. MARK can't think it's a little pathetic that he's here, doing this, with HER after everything they've been through, after all the hurt she's put him through. but he can't find himself to stop this, not when MAUREEN's clawing at his shirt to make sure that doesn't happen, and MARK grips at her hips, longing to go further and further, to make MAUREEN grab him more in all different kinds of places.

BREATHLESS, he pulls away for just a moment, meeting her brown hues with his own. ' is - is this okay? ' he asks, voice shaky. despite telling her how bad he wanted her only moments ago, he can't help but hold back again, hesitant. MARK's eager to please her, but he needs the assurance. his eyes plead with her: tell me it's okay that were doing this ( it's not ), tell me i'm not a fool for wanting this ( he is ) . . . MARK needs her to say it.

[screenplayed]

Radiohead - Present Tense (A Moon Shapped Pool - 2016)

[screenplayed]

＊ daughtxrlost‌ .

PART OF LEAH ALWAYS acted tougher than she was. girl doused in black with a bitter expression. but in truth, part of her was just a soul hurting, a soul who had barely left being a teenager behind. who might mess up, make mistakes, and essentially want to be loved. something that she had craved from her father, only for him to refuse to speak on the one topic she wanted to speak on, and moved on to others the next moment. they said you needed time to heal, but he just ripped away his wound in too careless a fashion. “-and i just - why get someone a life coach - only to go get engaged to them - way to fuck your daughter up even more,” the words rambled from leah, hands nursing the drink in her hands as she spoke to another. 

@screenplayed​

MARK'S IN AWE. this girl — LEAH, he thinks her name is — has him in complete astonishment as she speaks to him — tells him her life story and MARK's speechless. it's not a BAD thing, he's just bemused. someone who looks and holds an esteem so intense as she does makes MARK surprised that she's spilling everything to him at this work event that he had struggled to find the motivation to go to. and she's been complaining to him, venting about what MARK thinks is her home life that she left behind — something that MARK knows about all too well. and although MARK has a shitty relationship with his father too, at least he's never done anything like LEAH's describing. MARK could never live that down.

HE GLANCES DOWN at the drink in her hands, then back to her face in a quick motion, fumbling with how to even respond to that. ' YEAH, ' he can only agree lamely and even though he should be professional in this setting, she swore too, ' it's pretty fucked up. '

[screenplayed]

＊ mirrorbluemelchior‌ .

HE DOESN’T KNOW THIS GUY, to be honest, it was a clear indicator that he’d been too wrapped up in his job as anna pointed out. when he first moved to london, he went out all the time, but then he got this job, he worked his ass off to make a credible name for himself, and it seemed like it bogged him down from the fun aspects of his life. a party was a place people should have fun, and he took a swig of his drink as he walked across the room to linger a bit closer. 

CATCHING HIS GAZE, he offers the guy a bit of a warm smile, the excuse of I’m okay was a common one that he heard a lot in his office. but he wasn’t on the clock right now, so he simply nods as he plops down on the bed beside him, “i know what you mean man, well, i’m not super trashed but…i’m still feeling pretty good. which, you should be too, it’s a party after all right??” he offers, nudging the guy with nothing but a little motion of his elbow to his arm, kind smile still on his face, “i dunno what’s going on with you, but everyone deserves to have some fun at a party.”

IT'S HARD NOT TO smile back ( because he's really drunk ) but MARK's is more meek and not all there. if the filmmaker could see himself, he would have been embarrassed by the way the solemness showed right on his face. tonight he wanted to forget about the fight between him and ROGER . . . but the way this guy was looking at him with empathetic eyes and a genuine, kind smile . . . it just made MARK want to spill everything to this stranger. it wasn't like him to do that normally . . . what did he have to lose?

' RIGHT. ' MARK nods, sighing and breaking eye contact to glance at his phone again . . . it's not like he was expecting anything, but the urge to pick it up and just call to check on ROGER seems like a good idea in MARK's judgement - impaired mind. he sighs again, giving up on the call or text, and looks back at the stranger sitting close to him. ' i AM - i am having - ' it's hard to deny that he was sulking just a minute ago, he leans in CLOSE to the guy's face to make a point, though his words still slur. ' i am having - FUN. ' 

[screenplayed]

＊ seasonsofjoanne‌ .

Maureen had gone to get them drinks and Joanne found herself almost overwhelmed with how happy she felt. Years had passed but whatever it was that they had had before was still there. Though she knew she could never pretend that Maureen hadn’t just left, she had hope for something new with the woman and that much was probably painfully clear on her face to anybody watching. Joanne was still sprung over Maureen.

She hadn’t seen Mark until he was almost directly in front of her and concern washed over her features, her eyes glancing briefly at the drink in his hand. “Yes?” It came out sounding like a question, mostly because Joanne and Mark had met already and the journalist hadn’t really striked her as the forgetful type. “Are you okay, Mark?” And then, because she was ever the rational type. “Do you need some water?”

MARK DOESN'T KNOW how to say it. just spit it out! he thinks to himself, but he's stuck in his intoxicated stupor and in shock from the realization that he's met THE JOANNE that MAUREEN cheated on him with and left him for. he's surprised that she hasn't put two and two together yet — for a lawyer, she's not as quick - witted as MARK originally thought. stuttering, he tries to get the words out. ' NO - i'm - i'm fine,' he answers about needing some water. NO, he's going to need more ALCOHOL after he rips THIS band - aid off. 

' YOU'RE . . . JOANNE, ' he repeats, as a factual statement this time. DEFEATED. SHIT, how does he tell her? ' you're here with . . . MAUREEN? ' he asks, hoping it finally just clicks so he doesn't have to say the next thing he has in mind. the drinks he had already aren't helping him articulate it.

[screenplayed]

＊ thctgolden‌ .

the blonde kept a tight hold on him as he embraced her, the strong arms of a dancer coming in handy to keep the boy up as they slowly retracted from the embrace. “ sooo good, huh ? ” anna replied with a soft laugh, not entirely certain if she believed him or whether alcohol was clouding all judgments tonight. “ i’m good. ” her response was sharp and simple, but she kept the bright grin forced onto her lips. 

“ thanks. ” usually anna would’ve fought for a better adjective, given that she was fiery in that sense, but tonight she just didn’t have the strength nor the energy to do so. he wasn’t in such a good way, she was almost concerned about him. “ uhm, mark ? ” she questioned, adjusting her leather trousers, bending down to place her heels back on her feet. “ do you wanna come back to mine ? i’m not sure you’re in the best state to be walking home by yourself. i can make you a sandwich or something to soak up some of that alcohol, huh mister ? ” a perfectly manicured fingertip jabbed gently, playfully, at his chest.

IF MARK WERE SOBER, he probably would have noticed the tensity to ANNA's tone covered with her strained smile, that she's had a rough night. but MARK's not even close to sober. ' so good, ' he repeats in confirmation . . . it wasn't like the filmmaker had the best night either. and if it weren't for the alcohol, he'd probably consider it to be a pretty shitty night, what with encountering JOANNE, bringing CLAUDE back to earth, what he saw with MIMI, and none of this helps that he'd have to back to his life tomorrow morning. or, when he leaves ANNA's apartment tomorrow.

HE WOBBLES, gaining his balance when ANNA lets go. nodding at her offer, he grins, eyes squinting as he stares at her. ' MM . . . SURE - yeah, ' he laughs, bringing his fists up to rub his eyes tiredly as he does so. only slightly swaying as her nail meets his chest. she was right, he probably wouldn't be able to make it home on his own. he grabbed his coat that was hanging on a peg and took a second to put it on, seemingly lethargic. he wraps his arm around her  — partly for balance, partly because he's missed her too much — and smiles. ' shall we? '

[screenplayed]

＊ pcrtrcit-girl‌ .

Claude lets himself be pulled up from the ground, by some mysterious force that he wasn’t conscious enough to identify. He whipped the flames from his face again, clawing at his neck and chest for sweet relief. As he’s pulled towards the door, he takes off his shirt for the cool sensation to finally touch his skin, only to hear louder hooting and hollering from the faces around him.

“No, no!” Opening his eyes wide and fearful, Mark’s eyes are growing and shrinking in front of him, bubbling and filled to the brim with red. His friend’s skin was now completely red, riddled by a million stingers and bullets and swelling with a sickness. The overwhelming urge to save his friend, to spare him the fate of so many other soldiers who didn’t know better, “You need to get out of here, man! They’ll get to you too!”

HE LEADS CLAUDE THROUGH the dark hall, moving quickly to avoid the stares of CLAUDE tweaking. it's quieter and MARK can start to make out CLAUDE's words through his constant mumbling. telling him to leave? there's no way MARK could do that to him. he's talking to himself, and MARK can only look on in concern.

HIS PALM FINDS a doorknob to a spare room, turns and pulls CLAUDE inside. the lights are on, pink clothes and sparkling shoes strewn around the room. it wasn't the best environment to help a friend off a bad trip, but no one's in here, at least. he grabs CLAUDE's wrist and forces him to sit down on the ottoman in the center of the walk - in closet, ignoring the clothes thrown carelessly atop of it. 

MARK STUMBLES TO SIT ON THE FLOOR in front of him, legs crossed as he tries to read CLAUDE's expression. everything until now had been so sudden that MARK hadn't even thought to grab him water, or try to decipher what he's talking to himself about, does he even know he's tripping? and while he's dealt with ROGER, a heroin high is different from a bad trip. MARK lets out a breath, ' HEY. CLAUDE, it's MARK, ' he tries to get his attention, and it's not helping that MARK isn't the best with words while intoxicated, ' you're . . . tripping. ' and the reality sets in, if CLAUDE's hallucinating, there isn't much MARK can do besides try to calm him down. who knows how long he's been on it . . . or how long this will last.

[screenplayed]

Bed sharing is so intimate and blessed… dozing off and waking up to the sound of their breathing… feeling them roll over in their sleep to wrap an arm around you… hearing the little noises they’re making in their dreams…..

[screenplayed]

＊ defyingrcvity‌ .

                WHEN MARK CONFIRMED that she had left a lasting impression, aliz smiled widely, confidently. “ i did ? well would you look at that. “, she said, running her perfectly manicured fingers through her locks. of course aliz wanted to ask w h a t impression that exactly was – but she didn’t want to overwhelm the guy. he already seemed enough caught off guard. “ if it’s worth anything, you left quite an impression on me too. “, aliz told the man, nudging him gently as her eyes searched for his. and while she definitely was flirting a bit with him right now – her words were still laced with sincerity. he was probably the most modest, adorable guy she had met. not to mention he was v e r y easy on the eyes.

                    aliz was aware that the guy already had a couple of drinks – that probably wasn’t a bad thing ; it loosened him up a bit. winking at him, aliz took his hand in hers before guiding him towards the vip area ( which was empty at the moment, considering none of her girl friends were there ). she wasn’t going to give him much more alcohol – but an extra drink couldn’t do much more damage, right ? after getting the both of them in, aliz plopped down on the soft, red velvet couch, patting on the empty spot next to her. “ what would you like to drink ? “, she wondered.

WAS MARK'S FACE FLUSHING? he felt warm all over, but his warped mind couldn't determine if that was because of the alcohol or if it was because ALIZ was making him feel, really, really GOOD. it still surprises him that she's been talking to him for this long, that he hasn't said anything embarrassing to turn her off on him. but how can he? he usually talks and overshares to fill the awkward air when he's sober. but when he's drinks in, he's lost in his own thoughts, nothing to say. but if ALIZ thought he was attractive then, then there must be more drawing her to him now then just the last time he spoke.

HE BARELY NOTICES when her hands lace in his, just letting her pull him into a private, more quiet and spacious reserved area. the music dulls down a bit, and it's much easier to hear and see ALIZ than it was a moment ago. he sits, swaying as he does so, falling into the spot next to her. he doesn't have to think as hard at her question. ' MMMH, do you have stoli? ' he asks, leaning into her side as he sets his other drink on the table. 

[screenplayed]

＊ musicplaying‌ .

Roger took one more glance at Mark, the paralyzing fear on his face, and the words registered a moment after before Roger took off out of the kitchen towards the bathroom, breathing heavy. He’d fucked up royally this time, and it was his own fault that Mark was hurt now. He ransacked the bathroom, distantly hearing Mark fall, and the second he found it took off back to where he was, leaving the bathroom in a similar state to the kitchen. 

“ I’m here, just, hold on. ” He spoke softly, sitting on his knees next to Mark before opening the kit. He honestly had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation, but he knew Mark was freaking out. “ Okay, just… close your eyes, okay? Just focus on my voice instead of anything else. ” He kept his voice low, a stark contrast to how he was speaking a few minutes ago, and distantly he’s reminded of the first time he shot up and April saying the same thing to him. But this was different. Roger was helping, and yes this was his fault but he was gonna fix it.

He was still talking, just rambling to give Mark something to focus on, as he pulled stuff out of the kit. Roger reached forward, cradling his hand carefully in his before quickly pulling the needle out, wincing a bit. He quickly wiped it with an alcohol pad before holding a piece of gauze on it tightly, looking up at Mark. “ I’m sorry. ”

HIS EYES ARE DOWNCAST, stuck to the ground as ROGER emerges from the bathroom with heavy footsteps. he hears him, but doesn't look up. he CAN'T look ANYWHERE — gaze glued to floor as he tries to pin his focus on anything else other than the reality of the situation he's in. 

BEFORE HE KNOWS IT, ROGER's sitting by his side, speaking soothingly to him to get him to calm down. but MARK just - he can't. sure, a needle that was an intent to shoot up is dug deep into and under his skin, and that thought has him shaking violently and face pale. but as he listens to ROGER and closes his eyes, he can't help but think AGAIN that if he had walked through the door only a moment too late . . . 

MARK SEES OTHER THINGS behind his eyelids that scare him more than this. used needles strewn ROGER's room back at the old loft, everywhere. the haunted, blood - stained tub and the razor he found beside it on the tile floors. ROGER's lifeless body left for him, COLLINS and MAUREEN to find the day of APRIL's funeral. COLLINS performing CPR until the paramedics burst through the loft doors. dried vomit. late nights wiping ROGER's forehead of sweat, taking his temperature, praying that his withdrawal wouldn't be the thing that killed his friend first. fear of leaving ROGER alone for too long, fear of ROGER walking out the door forever, fear of losing him. stuck waiting until a night like this ( not a matter of IF, but WHEN ), where ROGER can't take it anymore? and MARK's not there to stop him, MARK didn't notice. this being all his fault. all together, these things are what scare MARK more than a needle sticking out of his hand.

HE DOESN'T MEAN TO GASP as ROGER pulls it quickly from his palm, but it's loud and startling and forces MARK to open his eyes. he's still trembling as he lets himself look at his hand. finally, that nightmare is over. 

MARK WANTS TO COLLAPSE, to stop existing. there's a throbbing in his hand, a sore kind of pain he knows will last for a couple days and remind him of everything wrong he's done leading up to his point. ROGER's apology is barely heard over the volume of MARK's inner anxieties. he just shakes his head at him, suddenly exhausted. ' don't - don't apologize to ME. ' what he wants ROGER to do instead, he can't say.

[screenplayed]

To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension. To starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension. Not to mention, of course, hating dear old Mom and Dad. To riding your bike midday past the three-piece suits. To fruits, to no absolutes, to Absolut, to choice, to The Village Voice, to any passing fad. To being an us, for once, instead of a them. La vie Bohème!

[screenplayed]

＊ musicplaying‌ .

Roger couldn’t help but laugh at his friend again, one arm draped over him and the other along the back of the couch as he looked down at him. He might’ve been all of those things without a doubt, but Roger still found it a little funny – until Mark asked why he didn’t tell him why Maureen was here. Roger still didn’t have an answer for that himself.

He shrugged anyways, rolling his eyes a bit. “ I’m not shit, she’s just mad that I stiffed her drink a bit. ” Roger commented, looking up at the ceiling before looking back down. “ Okay, shitty thing to do. I was planning to tell you, but… I didn’t know how. And it never seemed like the right time or anything. ”

MARK CAN'T BE MAD AT THAT ANSWER — not when he's this obliterated. he'd be pissed off about it tomorrow morning, that is, if he remembers this. it wasn't like he asked ROGER about her either, too nervous with how to approach the subject. it was fucking awkward, especially since their first encounter turned into a fight, and then their last encounter before tonight was -

OH YEAH. MARK remembers. he opens his eyes, when had he closed them? he places his hand on his own face, anything to block the ceiling, the room, ROGER's face, it's all spinning too fast. he groans, shifting again in ROGER's lap, still making no move to get up . . . but since their both being honest: ' I DID - i did something bad too. ' and he doesn't know how to get the next part out. ' uh - i - uh - ' he can only imagine ROGER's exasperated expression, waiting for him to just spit it out already. ' i slept with her — MAUREEN, ' like he needs to clarify.

[screenplayed]

＊ tangcmaureens‌ .

THERE WAS A TENSION in the air, not like when they last saw each other, this tension was heavy and hot and weighed down on her shoulders in a way she liked. it was devious and delicious all at once as she let her wide-eyed gaze scan his features, if only she knew what was going on in his mind. her fingers toy with the hem of his shirt along his shoulders, broad and strong in their own way, teeth still pressing into her bottom lip. she wanted him, and it was wrong to want him, fucked up even because knew it wasn’t healthy. roger had told her to leave him alone until she fixed herself, and she had been working on that, but alcohol and lust were too overwhelming than logically thinking for her right now.

MEMORIES OF THEM in the past, behind closed doors, were too vivid in the front of her mind now to forget. the way his hands used to feel on her skin had it crawling as she licked her lips, finally getting his gaze up to meet her own, and she let her head tilt to the side. her hues were glimmering with something dark and alluring as she hummed under her breath, “you don’t, what, mark?” maureen murmured, hands sliding down his arms at a tortuously slow pace, “want me?” she asked in a silky smooth tone, brow raising as he said her name so weakly, making her sigh under her breath, “you don’t want to touch me?” the question was in a whisper as she found his hands, bringing them up slowly as she turned around and pressed her back to his strong chest. 

“TOUCH ME, mark.” and her head falls back to rest on his shoulder, eyes scanning over his face slowly now that she was close, each feature so familiar as she let out a shaky breath because, at this point, her whole body was pounding to the beat of her heart. body pressed lightly against his as her hands had a loose hold on his, wrapping them around her tiny frame slightly, the mere connection she’d establish already making her skin hot. 

IT'S SO WRONG, MARK thinks. he should have left as soon as she got through the door, but now they're here, and MAUREEN's looking at him like she wants to devour him. his resolve's crumbling more and more as she stares at him with those big pretty eyes of hers. she knows what she wants, and she knows he's almost too - willing to oblige to her. he always would, and the point is only reiterated as he leans into her touch, sending a warm shiver up his spine. MARK's fallen right into her trap. 

' MAUREEN . . . ' he tries again, but there isn't much more to add, because . . .

. . . HE DOES WANT TO TOUCH HER. he really does, it's a need at this point. but he can't make a move. he feels out of practice, he hasn't done this since . . . since the last time they were together. MAUREEN's small hands find his, and MARK can only stare in awe as she moves. the way her night clothes cling to her frame, he can see everything now . . . and though he's seen her body a thousand times before, it's different now. he can't help but let his gaze fall longingly onto her full chest, her slim waist, her bare legs all enhanced by the pale moonlight shining through MAUREEN’s sheer curtains . . . it's too much for him. and MARK can only hope the vixen doesn't use the obvious way he's undressing her with his eyes against him ( because she WILL ).

MAUREEN'S BACK PRESSED AGAINST HIM, he lets out a sigh of defeat. she's looking up at him through long lashes with the same innocent expression as she persuades him to touch her . . . it's getting hard to resist, even with the smell of alcohol on her lips. his hands feather lightly on her hips, and he can't help but solemnly think about how badly he's missed this, and HER.

HIS LIPS MEET HER FOREHEAD, then the side of her face and down her jaw. ' MAUREEN, ' he repeats one last time. ' I DO - ' - want to touch you more, - want you to take care of me . . . he sighs again in between another kiss to her cheek, ' i want you so bad. '