West Side Story || Luna & Mark.

lovely-lunamcguire:

Just when she thought things couldn’t get more awkward. Not to be rude, but, Luna hadn’t even had a proper… well… “sex talk” with her own parents. This was not going to happen. No, no, nope, nien, non. She knew what Mark was implying, and that it was with the best of intentions, but it didn’t help the fact that she felt so uncomfortable in the situation. Why couldn’t she just be a bit more normal, in this aspect? The girl could clearly remember her high school friends talking about how they’d hooked up with their boyfriends that weekend, while she stood awkwardly in the corner. Life would be so much easier if she hadn’t shied away from boys and sex in the four, previous years. Imagine, this sitation wouldn’t be happening if she had. But, unless someone could invent a time machine in the next four seconds, the young woman would have the face this head on. 

To be honest, Luna probably wasn’t as completely innocent and oblivious to the world as people thought. For God’s sake, she didn’t live in a bubble. It was just that she chose not to have… other things… be such a prominent factor in her life. “Mark, you don’t have to treat me like a little girl… I mean, I’m nineteen years old, I can deal with… this stuff. I’m not a porcelain doll that’s about to shatter, and l-love, I don’t need to talk about sex or… the situation in your pants. I mean, shit- oh, sorry, pardon my French- stuff happens,” she said, rather assertively. Damn. She never, ever was so… well… fowards about what she was thinking. It was liberating, for one. The girl could add it to the list of things she could get used to. 

Granted, things didn’t go as smoothly as she pleased. There was a lot of stuttering, red cheeks, and nervousness between sentences of her little speech. Even though she wasn’t in much of a mood to leave, Luna scooted herself over to the other side of the couch. Things had probably gotten way more uncomfortable than necessary, truth be told. For the first time in her life, the girl was unhappy being herself- childish, innocent, and just a bit more flighty than she’d like to admit. “Shit…” she mumbled to herself.

For some reason, Luna’s words hurt him. Good job, idiot. He looked down as she spoke, his brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, Luna. I-I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Actually, all I wanted to do was to give you a bit of confidence for your audition… I’m sorry. I know you’re not a little girl, but sometimes you seem so innocent and so fragile…” He looked down at his pants, blinking… ouch, he thought. “Yeah, sorry about that, too.” he chuckled when she said a bad word, he thought that’d probably wouldn’t happen in a million years. “It’s okay. I can speak a really good French myself, so good it turns to German sometimes.”

He felt awful for making her feel uncomfortable, so he didn’t say anything when she moved away from him. “Alright.” he mumbled under his breath. He looked down at his pants, now annoyed at his hormones. What the hell? Stupid teenage hormones. He reached for the remote and pressed the play button, placing it right next to her before he stood up. “I’ll be right back.” He said as he walked in front of the TV and stopped, behind the couch, he was not sure if he should but… he needed to. Before walking upstairs, he leaned down and kissed Luna’s cheek, whispering “I’m sorry, really sorry.” into her ear, and then headed to the bathroom… maybe a little… what? peace? He felt no peace, he just felt stupid. He was angry with himself for making her feel awkward, or however she felt.

Once in the bathroom, he closed the door, he placed his hands on each side of the counter with the sink, and stared at himself in the mirror. “You’re an asshole.” he said to the reflection in the mirror. He looked back at his pants and sighed. “You’re an idiot, too.” He just felt so mad at himself, he felt like punching the mirror. He took a deep breath and furrowed his eyebrows, not looking away from the mirror. He ran his hands across his face and his hair, blinking. So, fucking calm down. You’re not even horny or anything. What the fuck, Mark. What. the. fuck. You are ruining everything. He felt bad, not quite sure why but he did. But the good feeling about this was the feeling of his pants feeling normal again. It took him a while, but he was okay again… but he was still scared of going out the door.