30 Day OTP challenge (of course it's SeptiPlier, what else would it be?)

Day 23 <~> Arguing

^Here's a video to watch after the chapter

i know you'll need it

Listening to Pink Guy rap while writing this is definitely disconnected to eachother

why

 Word Count: 863

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<Jack's Perspective>

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One day.

Mark wasn't 'feeling well', a bit down. I set it off.

One week.

He hadn't came out of his room, he wouldn't even cuddle up close to me like he usually did, what was wrong?

Two weeks.

Why wouldn't he eat? Why wouldn't he drink anything? Did I do something?

Three weeks.

I've had enough there was something wrong.

Four weeks.

And I was going to fix it, now.

"Mark?" I called out to him from the outside of the kitchen who was a few feet across from me, leaning on the wall and drinking some hot beverage. At least he was having something.

"Mark." I repeated, finally making him look up. I swayed over to him, hugging him the side.

"What's wrong? 'T's been four weeks, y'e haven't ate, spoke, it's the first time 'n a long time seein' y'e out of y'ur room, y'u're so distant at night, 't's not healthy. Please, tell me why y'u're so upset." He looked down at what I was guessing hot chocolate. 

"Mark.." I snuggled my head into his neck.

"Please, tell me what's wrong Mark." I whispered, my Irish accent emphasizing his name even with how small my tone was.

"It's just depression." He finally spoke, but this wasn't milk I heard, this was sand, soft but scratchy, it wasn't him at all. I pressed kisses against his jawline gingerly, trying to cheer him up, but he didn't smile that sweet genuine smile he had when we played around like that.

"Not now." He pushed my chest away softly, only for me to go back hugging him. If he didn't want to be silly, I was fine with that, but it didn't mean it would stop my persistence. I closed my eyes and leaned on him, physically trying to get him to tell me what was wrong.

"Jack." He murmured, annoyance poisoning the syrup from his mouth.

"I said.." I could feel his arm shift sideways.

"Not now!" He screamed, pushing me to floor, and letting me slide and head the back of my head against the bottom cabinet door. He immediately realized what he did, his hands covering his mouth.

"Oh, my- Jack I'm so sorry." He whimpered. I stared at him, anger replacing pity and sympathy for him.

"Oh, so I try to help you, worry about you, and care for why you're so sad, and this is what I get? To be pushed around?" I growled. I could see his apologetic expression in the brown sea glossed over with tears go defensive. He rubbed his eyes, taking a step forward.

"You never helped! You just sat there, letting me rot for four weeks, then try and toy with me, Jesus Jack, I'm not a sex toy!" I felt as if my heart shattered, my world crashing down. A sex toy? Is that we thinks I see when I look at him? 

"You aren't a sex toy, Mark, I care, I love you, I'm trying to make you laugh like you used to, I just want to see you happy!" I screamed back, getting up and held the back of my head, trying to keep the swell of pain off my mind.

"And it's your fault for staying in your bedroom, I tried to help, but it was your choice to be depressed and give in, I was right here, to help you anytime, but you only turned me away!" I added, seeing his face grow distorted with fury as my face turned red (an Irish trait).

"You ignored me! I tried talking to you! You only sat there playing games." I waved his hand and stepped closer.

"T'at's my job, Mark! 'T's your job too, and ever since you stopped your friends, family, and fans, even I, have been worried about you!" I stepped back as he stepped forward. 

"No! You would've been worried more about me if you talked to me, but you didn't care! It was only about the fans, wasn't it?" He was too close for me, making me scared and uncomfortable.

"Get away from me!" Was the last thing I spoke as the noise of a slap echoed through the house. My palm had collided with Mark's cheek. He looked at me, eyes wide, filled with offense. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes seemed to darken as inhumane thoughts emerged in the chocolate orbs. Next thing I knew I had been pinned down to the floor, my face catching each blow Mark threw.

"You bitch!" He screamed, choked back by tears. I tried to hide my face, I tried to get my hand up stop him, but I couldn't.

"Mark- Stop! Please!" I cried, feeling hot tears drip from his eyes to my neck. I could feel the pain lull me violently to exhaustion. It felt so much comforting as sleep slowly came in. I could hear Mark finally gain sense and realize what he's done.

"Oh my God." He started.

"What have I done?"