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penguintransporter · 2 years

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Sunshine (Marc Bartra imagine)

a/n: You know when you promise something to someone, and then it kinda takes forever to do it, and you feel bad, but you secretly hope that the person will understand? Yeah? Well, that’s how I am feeling. This one has been sitting for so long in my inbox, and I wrote and rewrote it several times, wondering if I wrote too much, was I too inconsiderate with how I handled the request, or if it might be triggering or something. But now, that I am posting it, I am hopeful you, and especially my lovely anon, will like it because it fluff galore. Tell me what you think, and as usually, my inbox is always open for ideas from you guys.

* solet - word of endearment in Catalan meaning sunshine.

The sun was high in the sky, perched above the cloudless sea of blue, and the heat would have been unbearable if it weren’t for the gentle waves of breeze that came and went, caressing the tall palm trees and the gardened bushes. A group of people, seated around the large pool were in great spirits — their skin, tanned and glistening in the sun, and their laughter was loud, occasionally rising above the music that played on someone’s loudspeaker.

She sat behind the kitchen island, away from it all as she observed the individuals she met when she arrived at the summer house, almost a week ago; individuals she felt socially detached from — people who talked about way too many names she didn’t recognise, too many restaurants she didn’t eat at, and way too many brands she couldn’t to afford, let alone wear. Yet, despite everything, she thought of them as nothing but nice since after all, it wasn’t their fault that their personalities and lifestyle didn’t match hers, and that the only thing they had in common was her best friend.

Sighing, she looked away from them and down at her legs, dangling from the high stool she was seated on — a small frown appearing on her face as she ran her finger along the red line from where her shorts dug into her thighs, and despite knowing better, she found herself glancing back at the girls outside, feeling her chest tightening. A wave of sadness washed over her shortly after, causing the small monster of insecurity to dive up, pulling the heavy chest of self-doubt on the surface; a chest that she liked to keep shut and hidden away.

“Solet!” Marc’s voice was loud and filled with mirth as it reached her ears, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, and when she looked up at him, he was running towards the wide patio doors with a bright smile on his face — his hair, wet and slicked back, and the blue of his eyes, melting into the colour of the sky. “Why are you sitting here alone? Come outside, we’re about to play volleyball, and we need a player.”

The corny nickname he had for her since they were teens made her smile a little but she quickly shook her head at him, pointing at the random magazine that rested on the table in front of her — the white lie that she had rehearsed earlier that morning, slipping from between her lips.

“It’s too warm out there, and you know I hate to chafe,” she grinned, looking back at him, “and anyway, I am not wearing my bathing suit at the moment,” she quickly added, glancing over his shoulders at the tanned girls, sitting on the loungers, wearing their skimpy bikinis as they sunbathed — her grin transforming into one filled with some kind of sadness.

Despite seeing the change in her demeanour, her best friend kept quiet as he took a step forward, entering the kitchen area — the water from his swimming trunks, pooling around his feet as he leaned forward so that he was at eye level with her. Gently, he reached out, touching her shoulders, and the simple but intimate gesture they shared, despite being a common occurrence, made her heart stop for a second. Trying to stay composed, she forced herself to return his gaze, but gave up quickly — eyes dropping back to the open, glossy page of the magazine between the two of them.

Marc’s eyes never left hers as he studied her expressions and followed every blink of her eye — his breathing patterns matching hers as she tried to quiet her racing heart. She was supposed to be used to the feeling; the desire, the yearning, and the secret she harboured, but when he was close, she just couldn’t help herself.

Breathing in deeply, she finally managed to look back at him, giving Marc an opportunity to smile at her — her body filling up with a certain kind of warmth, and he didn’t have to say a word because she knew exactly what kind of questions were plaguing his mind.

He knew her better than anyone, yes, but she knew him just as much.

“It’s fine, trust me. I am fine.”

Marc only nodded once — his thumb toying with the seam of her t-shirt sleeve. “I trust you, but promise me you’ll tell me if there is something that is bothering you,” he whispered softly, “because, whenever I see you crawling back and sitting alone, I can’t help but worry.”

“But I don’t mind being alone,” she answered with a bashful smile, “you know I am not the biggest social butterfly out there. Bigger than average, yes, but not social,” she adds, but the self-deprecating joke doesn’t make Marc chuckle. Instead, it makes him look away for a second — his brows knitting together in a thought.

“Have they been nice to you?”

She quickly nodded as he looked back at her. “Yes, Marc. They’ve been nice to me, and you really don’t have to worry. It’s not like we are kids or something,” she shook her head a little, “so please, just go back and have fun because it might not look like it, but I am actually enjoying myself. Remember… you and me, quiet and loud—” she stopped abruptly, giving her best friend an opportunity to continue her thoughts.

“—yin and yang… I know, I know…,” he trailed off with a grin, leaning back before looking over his shoulders and at his friends who had already started playing volleyball in the pool — happy and contagious energy of the four people, drawing a slight smile on his lips.

“You should go and join them,” she muttered softly, flipping the page of the magazine, but she had no time to focus on the article typed in front of her, for Marc had already grabbed her hand, giving her a look she couldn’t read.

“Let’s take a walk together, solet.”

Taking the path that started just behind the villa, the breeze caught up with them, but she knew that the shiver that spread through her body wasn’t caused by the cold, but because of the man, walking next to her, talking excitedly about this and that. His face was lit up with a wide grin — the plan about the hiking trip they are supposed to do in a few days, slipping from between his lips, and before she could realise what was happening, one of his arms had sneaked around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

And it wasn’t like he had never done such a thing before, but as Marc, energetically and extrovertedly kept talking, she could not help but feel a certain type of anxiety wash over her, refusing to let go, just like her best friend seemed to have a hold on her — physically and platonically. Stopping, Marc walked in front, quickly reaching out his hand to help her walk down a small hilly area as they entered a path surrounded with old olive trees, and without missing a heartbeat, Marc had wrapped his arm around her yet again.

She could only shake her head and nod, murmuring small signs of acknowledgment, letting the melody of his voice fill her ears — the sound she would never get tired of hearing as long as she was breathing.

“I am glad you are here,” Marc suddenly interrupted the quietness that settled upon them, and the simple string of words made the tremors inside her body intensify. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had the chance to spend time together. Don’t get me wrong — the rushed lunches when I am in the town are nice as well, but it feels different when we are together for longer than that,” he stopped, letting his index finger slip underneath the sleeve of her top before stroking the warm skin lightly. “It just feels different, you know, it feels right to have you by my side. If you know what I mean.”

By the time Marc had finished talking, her heart was beating erratically inside her ears, and despite her better judgement, she found herself stepping away from him, nervously wiping her palms against her shorts to get rid of the sweat that had formed on the surface of her skin.

“I—yeah…” she trailed off nervously as she kept walking, unaware that Marc wasn’t doing the same. Anxiously, she breathed out a breath she was holding, feeling like she had no air leftover in her lungs.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Marc called out as he jogged after her before reaching to take a hold of her hands. “Did I say something wrong, solet?” he asked — his voice dropping a little.

Nervously, she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, so instead, she only shrugged a little. “It’s fine,” she whispered in the end, glancing down towards their feet. “It’s just—what you said there,” the introverted girl stopped for a second, taking an opportunity to take a deep breath as yet another shiver ran through her body, “it felt almost as if—I mean… look, I don’t know what I am saying, so let’s just keep walking.”

Taking a step back, she quickly swung around, mentally cursing herself for evening thinking the thought that crossed her mind.

As if he’d see her in that way.

Marc stayed quiet, but she could hear his shoes scrunching as he jogged past her before stopping mere steps away from her, quickly placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her from walking away from him. For a moment, they just looked at each other — her best friend once again trying to read her mind, opening his mouth a few times to say something, but no words came out.

“I think I might be in love with you.”

His words are rushed and unfiltered, and when she finally realised what they meant, she couldn’t help but feel her knees weaken. She kept staring at him, letting herself be hypnotised by his eyes as she tried to comprehend the syllables that left his mouth only seconds ago.

“You’re not,” she breathed out, shaking her head, “you’re not.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re thinking wrong,” Marc spoke, and she shook her head yet again, ready to answer, but Marc beat her to it — “I know how being in love feels, and I feel it with you, solet.”

She swallowed, trying to stay firmly on her feet as her heart drummed loudly inside her chest. “I am not your type,” she blurted out quickly, trying to step away from him, but her best friend, instead of letting her go, only pulled her closer. “I’ve seen your type, and they are not…—me. Maybe you’re mixing things up, and maybe it’s the sun—”

“I am going to kiss you now, solet,” Marc interrupted, and before she was able to react in any other way, say something and drag her friendship in the mud made out of self-doubt, he had placed one of his hands against her cheek, gently bringing her face closer to his. Settling his other hand just below her jaw, Marc breathed out softly — the air fanning across her face gently. “Will you let me kiss you?”

Shyly, she managed to give him a slight nod — her eyes closing on their own accord as her best friend brought her closer, and the lips she was dying to taste for years, touched hers.

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