The Bond

Ch 19

"Bold."/"Bold italic" : animatronic is talking/animatronic is talking in mind

"Normal."/"Normal italic." : human is talking/human is talking in mind

=o^o=

"So, what were you doing at your house?"

Michael turned to Mark who was looking at him from the kitchen, then Michael turned his gaze back to the television in front of him. "It doesn't really matter," he replied casually, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Important not important, I still want to know," Mark replied, bringing a bowl of popcorn over to where he was and sitting down next to him.

Michael had almost forgotten he couldn't eat—he almost took the popcorn. This is a bit annoying, he misses the times where he would watch his favourite opera while eating popcorn. So Michael gave a small frown. "Just checking the house," he said.

Mark glanced up. "Your house is fine, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Is something broken?"

"Yep." Once again Michael scowled at the huge hole in the ceiling of his house. A gift, Ennard said. That animatronic is a big jerk.

Mark smiled a little. "Want me to help you fix it?"

"It doesn't seem necessary, I can do it myself." Michael shook his head, he lifted his legs to the sofa and bent his knees to his chest. "The only thing is that I don't have the money to buy new tools," Michael complained.

"Your parents didn't give you any money or inheritance or anything like that?" Mark raised his eyebrows up curiously.

Afton's eldest pursed his lips and squeezed his fingers. "My parents?" he said in a trembling voice. "Both my father and mother just disappeared." Michael gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"Just like that?" Mark frowns. "Isn't it strange that they suddenly abandoned you? They didn't leave a message?"

"I'm not even their favourite child, what do you expect?" Michael half scolded Mark, apparently annoyed. But he knew Mark or their two other friends were completely separated after they graduated from middle school. "My mother suddenly left in the middle of the night, a few months later my father disappeared without a trace. The only message he left me was a stupid will on shabby paper. It really sucks." Michael could not help but complain about the behaviour of his parents.

It's not Michael's fault that he feels abandoned, is it?

Mark looked at him with pity, and Michael hated that. He looked straight at the television and took a long sip of his coffee with his brow furrowed. Michael hoped Mark didn't question any further, because his story would have made no sense to a normal person's mind—that he had actually died, but had come back to life as a walking corpse.

Oh, don't forget the parasite in the form of burned spaghetti with a clown mask as well as ego and arrogance that exceeds the highest sky named Ennard.

"What will?"

His wish was not granted.

Damn it Ennard.

"Hard to tell," Michael answered quietly, he stretched his legs out again and slumped on the couch. "Everything gives me a headache."

Mark tapped his shoulder. "You can share your story with me to make you feel better." The man gave him a small smile, Michael looked at his old friend for a moment with an indescribable look.

"Liar. He might just want to take the opportunity to make fun of you if you tell him."

"For God's sake."

"I never knew you were religious."

"Shut up, bastard."

Michael returned Mark's smile with a grin. "It's okay," he said, before blinking in surprise as Mark patted his head gently. "Why did you do that?" he asked confusedly, rubbing back the area of ​​the head that Mark had just patted.

"You like it when your head gets patted," Mark replied casually, this time Michael was a little embarrassed. "And you often asked me to do it."

"Long ago!" Michael replied quickly, embarrassed. He had forgotten the fact that this man was still his former lover in the past. "Not anymore," said Michael somewhat sullenly. "Mark!" he protested later when Mark patted his head again, causing him to quickly push Mark's hand away.

Mark laughed, Michael getting even more irritated. Was Mark mocking him? This is annoying.

"You're still as sweet as ever."

"Ew, he's teasing you, Afton. Your ex is teasing you. Make sure you don't fall for his sickening bullshit. Or are you going to act like a slut?"

"Don't be stupid." Michael growled inwardly. Ennard only added to his annoyance.

"Mike." The call from Mark was answered by an incoherent mumble by Michael, Mark continued his speech. "Why do you always wear an eye patch?"

Michael stopped grumbling, he looked at Mark out of the corner of his eye and he could see the curious expression on Mark's face. Michael felt his guts twirl—it was just a parable, of course, Ennard couldn't be somersaulting inside him. But Michael really felt like throwing up suddenly after hearing Mark's question. "No reason," he lied nervously.

"Why?"

Mark was still insisting on the answer, Michael cursed remembering Mark would not give up so easily. "No particular reason, I just like it. Like that mask." Michael hissed as he brought up the old mask issue.

But Mark still looks dissatisfied. "You haven't taken off your eyepatch since you lived here. This is my flat and you live under me for now."

Damn it Mark.

"He's a bitch, isn't he? Let's get out of here as soon as possible."

Michael ignored Ennard, he just pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I really appreciate your help, Mark, really. But believe me, I like wearing eyepatch because ... uh ... reminds me of Foxy." Michael seemed pretty sure of his answer, and Mark seemed to be realized now too.

"Reasonable," Mark replied. "You always liked Foxy."

"Foxy is so cool!" Michael slapped his forehead, his enthusiasm for Foxy didn't seem to subside even though he had grown up. Once again Michael felt embarrassed, moreover Mark laughed at his words. "Don't laugh at me," said Michael. "You know I really like Foxy. He's really cool."

Ennard suddenly snorted.

"Your obsession with Foxy is the same as ever," Mark said amusedly, this time Michael didn't protest when Mark ruffled his hair. "But back to the previous conversation. Let me help you fix your house."

Michael let out a tired sigh. "I can never refuse you, can I?"

Mark just smiled.