Featuring Marisol & JasonI see hell in your eyes
Taken in by surprise
And touching you makes me feel alive
Touching you makes me die inside
I hate you!
There were no words to describe the calming feeling that washed over Marisol as she slowly sank into the ocean. The silence brought peace to her frazzled mind, relaxing the muscles previously tensed by stress and anxiety. The events of the party soon faded out into the back of her mind, leaving her with only a blissful, soothing emptiness. Mari closed her eyes, basking in the comfort the water always brought her, until she couldn’t hold her breath any longer. Only then did she open her eyes and effortlessly swam back into the surface.
To her surprise, she heard the sound of another body hitting the water dangerously close to her. The girl whipped her head in the direction of the sound, green eyes alert for the presence of the intruder. As dumb as it sounded, a small part of her was secretly hoping it was Sonny, looking for an encore of that fateful night on July 4th. It would honestly come as a blessing given how terribly this party had been going so far. But of course, Sol would soon find herself disappointed very quickly. When she recognized the person who’d jumped out after her, the loud groan that escaped her lips was immediate.
“Are you fucking serious right now?!” Mari cried out in disbelief, glaring at none other than the newest of the Devil’s minions: Jason Weaver.
The second Jason hit the water, his hate for Marisol knew no bounds. And the second he went above it, he heard her groan. “Are you!?” He shouted at her. Jason had no patience with misfits who didn’t know their place. “What the hell were you thinking? Seriously, what is wrong with you!? You should apologize to that guy. Right damn now!” He demanded. No matter what, he’d either make sure she’d never dare come to another party or make her apologize. Neither would be easy though and Jason knew it. Yet he stood his ground, serious as ever.
Marisol looked at Jason with a furrowed brow, as if he had suddenly grown an extra head. Was she dreaming? Had the dive from the pier gone horribly wrong and she’d hit her head and drowned and was now in some alternate reality in which Jason Weaver of all people had the nerve to tell her what to do? Did Psycho Boyfriend somehow forget who he was defying and the background of said person? Or had he actually been the one to hit his head so hard it distorted his perception of reality? Whatever it was, it was making the dumb blond dude say things he could very much regret later.
“Me? Apologize for what?!” she shouted at him, feeling all the peace she’d gotten before quickly slipping away from her body. Her green eyes were flaming with anger now, and she was glaring at him in a way that would make any smart person back off before they could get hurt. “He was the one being a complete asshole to me! He deserved the damn punch to the face! I’m not apologizing for shit!
‘If being an asshole is grounds to punch someone, you’d be beaten down almost every day…’ Jason thought, though he knew well enough not to voice those thoughts even if his body said it. Her haughty speech was driving him insane, though. Was she really that arrogant? That was a stupid question: of course she was! Jason was no stranger to her last name.
“Apologize for ruining the party!? A party you’re invited to!” Jason returned to her. He could read Marisol’s body language. Her eyes could burn ships. It would’ve sent almost anyone away.
Not Jason, not now. He wasn’t so easily scared. No, he was willing -and above all, ready- to challenge her. So instead of going away or even look away, he kept looking into her green eyes with an icy determination and defiance. But that wasn’t enough. He had to overpower her in this game of the psyche. And Jason knew very well how to overpower them. He began to swim closer to her. Inch by inch. Quite intent on invading her personal space. Would she back away and lose? Or fight back?
“I said it once and I’ll say it again, dipshit: I’m not apologizing for shit,” Marisol spat back, quickly switching from the defense to the offense. “Are you deaf, or just fucking retarded?”
She certainly noticed the way Jason was swimming towards her with some sort of dumb determination in his face, as if he was planning to actually fight her back or some shit. As strange as it sounded, it made the corners of Sol’s mouth curl up in the ghost of a smile. She kept her eyes locked on his the whole time she spoke and after: a clear sign that she was more than ready to take him on. He really was as stupid as he looked, then. And, frankly, nothing would make her happier right know than to bash that spoiled, pretty boy’s face in.
Jason decided to not get closer. Though there couldn’t be more than four feet between them now. She didn’t back down. He had to respect that. Even her trying to insult him earned her some credit. Too bad it’s all wasted effort. Jason knew she was just an awful person. Someone with such a twisted reality that she genuinely thought she was in any way or form better than him. Of course, she wasn’t. “You know, this is why Sonny will never love you...” He spat right back at her.
And those were the magic words that stung Marisol like an ice shard piercing straight to the heart.
“What did you just say?” Sol muttered, staring at Jason in disbelief. Her demeanor changed as if a switch had been turned off. There was no way he knew where her mind was at in that department, which made things all the more painful to hear… Or did he? Was she really that obvious when it came to her feelings for her best friend? Was she really being stupid enough to let it show and expose her Achilles talon to the rest of the world? Whatever it was, it was too late to play dumb now. The damage was done, and White Boy’s face told her that he knew.
A small smirk formed on Jason’s mouth. He had her now. There were too many rumors to just ignore it. And now it was clear: there was truth in them. Jason inched just a little closer, getting right up in her face. “You’ve heard me.” There was a deeper malevolence in his voice now, like he was twisting a dagger. “Give it time. He’ll drop you too.”
There was no warning before Marisol threw the first punch directed straight at Jason’s stupid face, but missed. She was shaking with all that pent-up anger again, seeing the world irrationally and with red-colored glasses. The boy’s words had driven her to the edge again, hurt her in ways he would never understand. At that moment, she wanted to make him pay for what he was doing. Jason dodging her first punch had only made her angrier, causing her to throw a second punch. To her surprise, he didn't dodge this one.
Though the attack was rather unexpected, he sank right in time to dodge the fist. He thought he’d get slapped at most, but it was clear that Jason had triggered her harder than he expected. He grabbed her second swing and started pulling her underwater. Now all manners were out: if she wanted a fight, she would get one.
Him putting his hands on her in every way was adding fuel to the raging flames. She began to kick and punch wildly at him, trying to squirm herself off his grasp.
The flurry of hits were coming faster than Jason knew. One kick hit him square in the chest, and it was hard enough to make him release his grip. He tried to go back up to get a gasp of air, but after trying to kick himself off the bottom, his foot got stuck on a reef. Jason tried to break free from it, but the rough, almost rock-like substance was just scraping his foot. Blood began to muddle the water around his leg. The harder he fought to get free, the more he began to panic, and he unsuccessfully tried to break the coral with both hands. His lungs were screaming for ail, every nerve in his body wanting him to open his mouth and breathe. He fought it with everything he had, but soon his vision began to blur. A blackness creeped into his vision, slowly taking him off to a blissful, cold sleep.
Oblivious to what was happening to Jason, Sol swam right back into the surface, lungs burning as she gasped for air. She couldn’t believe that the asshole had actually tried to fucking murder her! What in the actual hell?! The girl looked around for any signs of Jason trying to creep back to try and drag her back into the ocean like in some low-budget horror movie. But instead, all she saw was a peaceful ocean, with no interruptions of anything approaching the surface anytime soon.
A bad feeling began to creep into the pit of Marisol’s stomach. It had been much too long since Jason and she had gone underwater, and he had yet to come up. Taking in a deep breath, the girl dove back into the water and swam deeper and deeper, searching around with the help of the moonlight until she finally saw him. Her green eyes widened with shock when they feel on the boy’s motionless figure: his foot stuck on a coral reef, a trail of blood coming from the direction of his leg and how no attempts to free himself from it.
Please, no… Marisol thought in panic, forgetting the nasty fight they’d been in the middle in and immediately jumping to the rescue. She quickly unhooked his trapped foot from the coral, placed his body onto her back, took hold of his arms around his neck and began to swam to the shore.
The first few minutes were easy enough. The water helped a lot with gravity, which in turn facilitated things for Marisol. But the more they approached the finish line, the more difficult things became. The guy had nearly a foot and a hundred pounds on her, and this became obvious when the time came to pull him out of the ocean. Cursing him the entire way, Sol grabbed him by the arms and dragged him out away from the incoming high tide. When she figured they were safe, she let his arms drop and knelt next to him to examine him closely. Yup, he was looking pale as shit and with no signs of life. She had no choice but to do the unthinkable: give him mouth-to-mouth CPR.
“You pasty-ass dumb fuck!” Marisol shouted in frustration before unwillingly pressing her lips to his.
It felt like he was waking up from a deep sleep. Jason was roused by the gentle press on his lips and the fresh air into his lungs. His mind was scattered and tried to piece together the scene. But with his eyes closed he could only hear the gentle ocean waves on the beach. He could only feel warm lips on his. Catherine. He pushed his lips into hers and embraced her with one arm, gently pulling her on top of him as he caressed her cheek with his other hand. First he couldn’t open his eyes. Now he didn’t want to. The only thing he wanted was for this kiss to last a thousand life times. To feel the heat of her body on his forever.
When she’d began the CPR attempts to revive the idiot white boy, she had expected to revive him and get a mouthful of water spat at her face at most. What she didn't expect was that he would wake up, alright… And wrap her up in what was possibly the sweetest, most loving kiss she’d ever experienced.
In other circumstances, Sol would have delivered a kick to the balls to him too. But as weird as it sounded, Jason kissing her felt… good. Great, actually. The girl didn't know if it was just some strange way of releasing all the anger and hatred that had just transpired between them, or a weird reaction to being revived after nearly drowning. Whatever it was, Mari decided to go along with it. After all, this was certainly a nice way to unknowingly get back at him for all the nasty things he’d said, and getting something out of it in the process. She knew it would be something that would mess with his head for a while. And if there was something she’d learned from Sonny, it's that mind games were perhaps the most valuable weapons against anyone.
So instead of pulling away from the young man, she decided to followed his lead. Marisol let herself be pulled up onto him, their bodies now resting together in high-voltage closeness. The longer they kissed, the more she got and put into it. Before she knew it, all ulterior motives were forgotten when the kiss was deepened. Her hungry lips were locked on his, the fingers of one of her hands tangling themselves on his silky blond hair.
As the kiss deepened, some profound wrongness invaded Jason’s mind. Reality creeped in. Catherine was not in Florida. She wasn’t with him here on the beach. Then, who was it? Finally he opened his eyes and realized just who he was kissing. Dread, pure dread, flooded his mind. His hand that was gently rubbing through her hair but a moment ago now pulled it away. He pushed her off of him and jumped up. “Shit… shit. Shit. Shit!” The happy feeling turned into utter sickness and guilt in his.
Meanwhile, the amused Marisol watched as Jason went through his little meltdown with a smile on her face, going as far as laughing when he began to swear out loud. Just as she had thought: he was feeling all kinds of guilty after slipping up and kissing someone other than his beloved Katrina something or the other. That was perhaps the best payback she could get from this asshole… But she knew she could probably get some more.
“Awwww, come on, Weaver! Don't be a pussy,” Sol said teasingly, shooting him a wink. She scrambled up from her spot on the floor and stood to her full, unimpressive 5’3” of height right in front of Jason’s face, green eyes burning holes in his with a different kind of fire now. “You know you liked it. And even if you don't say it, there’s something else that preeeeetty much screams ‘give me some more of this shit’. Am I wrong?”
Jason didn’t know which was worse. Sol saying it or it being true. In truth, he loved every second of the blissful, ignorant kiss. He knew he could never really accept that but it was the truth. But there were other things occupying his mind now. Like the return of anger. Why was she laughing? Why was all of this so funny to her? Well, he knew: because it wasn’t serious. Not to her. And because of that, no amount of anger would work. That’s how she worked, apparently.
But other things worked, and Jason remembered.
So he took a moment to calm himself and let the anger dissipate. After a deep breath, he came a little closer back to her and said: “Seems like you liked it just as much. You’re giving it away.” He inched a little closer and lifted her chin with one finger. A tension was building, as he could tell by the way Marisol suddenly stopped breathing. But right before it would all topple over again he broke the mood and said, in a stone cold voice: “But you’re fraternizing with the enemy as well. Imagine what Sonny would say.”
And there it was: the one weapon he had against her that always did the trick.
Whatever remaining feelings of anything besides anger vanished instantly, and were now laced with a surprising sadness. “I can fuck every single dude and chick in Miami and Son wouldn’t even blink,” Marisol admitted, turning away from Jason before he could see the tears bubbling up. “And you know why? ‘Cause Sonny doesn’t care, even if I do.”
She was so exhausted from putting up the strong front for so long, so damn drained from all the whirlwind emotions of the night… That, in the end, Sol suddenly just crumbled down into pieces. This whole fucking party had been a real waste of her time, and she truly was regretting ever leaving her house. Letting out a defeated sigh, Marisol started to walk away back into the ocean.
He was many things. A bastard, uncaring and selfish. He’d accept nearly all those titles. But some would call him cruel and he would never accept that. Not if he could help it. As he watched Marisol turn away from him and get up, he knew he had hurt her deeper than he’d intended. And he couldn’t repair that damage. “Wait.” Jason relented as he walked after her and grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her. “Let’s just... Go back to the pier and get our clothes. The water’s far too cold tonight.”
Marisol was motionless for a few seconds, debating whether it was a good idea to spend any more time with him. Taking in a deep breath, Sol wiped the saltwater tears away, turned back to him and nodded silently. The thought of being alone in a moment like this was not a soothing one, so she would take the closest thing to comfort… Even if it was Jason Weaver.
