MARSH𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗢 | Theirs (BL)

🌼ONE▫️ ▫️

MARSHMALO| Theirs

Elliott let the water cascade down over his body as he stood under the shower, still pondering why he even existed. These thoughts only compelled him to bring his hands to his face and wash it. He turned off the shower after rinsing off the bubbles on his skin and grabbed his towel, hanging on the rack. Then, taking the bathrobe hanging on the hook on the door, he draped it over his body, covering his skinny figure, and headed outside the bathroom.

His hair dripped beads of water as he lightly stepped on the floor. The house was comfy; he had just moved in a month ago to this town. HBU was the university he had been brought to; his parents wanted him to study there, as it was somewhat prestigious. It was his first time being away from his parents. He remembered the first time he stepped into this town, Hellbergs Town. The town wasn't bad; it was good. It looked peaceful if you viewed it differently—peaceful indeed. He had heard from his parents that his uncle was willing to take care of him there since his uncle lived in this town.

When his father took him there, exactly where his uncle's house was, it was empty—not completely empty, but more like no one was inside. "Unfortunately, your uncle won't be back for a few weeks since something came up. Don't worry, bud," his father said, "he said you won't have to worry about the bills here, and he already has food stocked for you in the cabinet." His father tapped his back gently. His father knew his son wasn't good at being on his own, but he had to do it to help his son become independent. It's not like Elliott was spoiled; he had never been spoiled, especially since they were just average people.

It's just that Elliott never learned how to be on his own; he only knows how to do house chores and study. He's not a fan of going outside, which is why his skin is pale. He's too much away from the sun, never playing outside even with his used-to-be friends. He's a home person; he thinks it's better and safer inside the house. The courage he built up to finally go out in public arose from realizing he needed to socialize, not always be homeschooled.

In his first year at the university...

Returning to where he is, he went to his room or the guest room, making his way to the full-length mirror. He smiled at his reflection before it fell flat. It was too big for his face, and most importantly, it wasn't genuine. He hated fake smiles, he could notice them, and they never meant anything good. So, instead, he turned away from the mirror, got dressed, picked up his schoolbag, and thought about the destination of the town's university.

The walk wasn't that far, ten to fourteen minutes, but he didn't like it. He remembered it took him days to memorize and familiarize himself with the surroundings, the streets, and everything. He managed even without the help of his uncle, who wasn't even with him. All the houses and stores were in close circles, nothing too far apart when he needed to go shopping.

Elliott continued his walk to the campus in silence. Perhaps a headphone would save him. Just anything to keep him distracted, busy, and away from the feeling of his hair standing on the back of his neck due to attention. He clutched his bag tighter as he entered the building; being watched was worsening him. He was too busy looking back to notice the person ahead of him until it was too late.

Elliott staggered backward, nearly losing his balance. The sound of fluttering paper and the crash of a glass blared in his ears, alarming him that something hit the floor hard. Then he looked down...Shocked at the sight of the broken glass and papers on the floor, Elliott realized he had caused it. Then, a pair of feet rooted in place in front of him, and Elliott's eyes turned upwards, guessing that it must've been the owner of the broken glass—the mug.