pockets full of roses [ a markiplier alter-ego fanfic ]

5. spiraling petals

This had to have been the longest week of my entire life. It was only Tuesday, but I was watching the clock on the wall of my history class tick with every second. If I had a superpower, I always thought it would be to read people's minds or maybe even fly -- just think about how freeing that would be.

But now that it felt like my heart was aching into my stomach with every passing moment, I wished for nothing more than the power to control time.

I kept Mark's letter in my pocket, pulling it out every few hours to glance over it again. I couldn't get over how powerful his words were to me. It was strange, only because he never talked to me like that before. Never really did many romantic things. He was a man of few words, but had tons of love and passion for the people that he loved. I read it over again, feeling a warm tingle go down my spine as I sighed. I felt like I was falling in love all over again.

"Excuse me..." All of the students in the class turned around, seeing a young gentlemen with a nervous expression at the exit of the classroom. In one hand was what looked like a card; in the other was a giant bouquet of roses, "I hate to interrupt. I have a delivery for a... (Y/n)?"

A red hue spread across my face. I looked down to the ground and slowly raised my hand sheepishly, "That's me..."

The young man hurried to my seat, placing the giant bouquet of roses at my desk, blocking the eyes of the students gawking towards me. This was probably the biggest collection of roses I had ever seen fit into a vase. Inside were a few stray petals spinning around, looking a little weaker as they followed the current of the water inside.

"They bought the biggest set we've got," He whispered to me, a smile across his face, "Whoever it is, you are one lucky girl."

"Um, thanks.." I turned back into my seat, not bothering to acknowledge the grin that fell from his face. He scowled at me before walking away, continuing his day unbothered.

I looked through the flowers as the teacher continued their lesson. Hidden at the top of the blooming roses was a card. Addressed on the front was 'My love'.

Well, there are only a few options, aren't there? I chuckled to myself, pulling the card from between the flowers. On the back of the card, the beautiful cursive I felt like I knew so well now was there. I read through, forgetting about the semi-important lesson in class that was being taught.

To my cherished love,

In anticipation for our date, I cannot help but think about you more and more as each day passes. Are you looking forward to seeing me again? I really hope you are. I can almost not wait any longer. But, for our sakes, I must take hold of my constraints and be patient.

I think about how beautiful you are; how your smile sends waves of warmth through my chest. I know this sounds like a lot, but only because it is. My heart overflows with love for you, my sweet (Y/n). I have taken you for granted for too long. It is time that I begin to make up for my mistakes. This bouquet of gorgeous roses is only the beginning.

Now that I know your favorite flower is a rose, be expecting a few deliveries these next coming days. I do not wish for you to write me back. This week is all about you. I love you, and hope you know that you will be cherished by myself until the end of time. I cannot wait to hear about the rest of your favorites when we meet.

I look forward to seeing that beautiful smile by the end of the week.

Love,

Mark

My hands shook as another flood of warmth filled my face. How did Mark know how to write like this? It was so unlike him. I love him to pieces -- I didn't expect him to remember the roses. He never even asked me my favorite color or my favorite time of year... simple things. It is making me start to realize how much we may not know each other after all this time.

I sighed, my breath feeling hotter than usual. I ran my hand through my hair, completely zoning out of the class if I hadn't already. No thoughts ran through my mind other than the upcoming Friday night. At the thought, I squeezed my legs together. Our meeting cannot come soon enough.