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

Day 25 <~> Gazing into eachother's eyes

MysticalBaconSlice and Glossomer are so perfect, thank you children for making perfect art

again it's weird to listen to memes rap while writing something like this

well

DO THE SALAMANDER

nYeSs

yeah this one is sad too, but it'll get better, trust me.

Word Count: 730

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark had enough, depression was suffocating him, the loss of his one and only love couldn't have just broke his heart, no, it had ripped it out of his chest, tore it into a thousand pieces, left it to rot, then fed it to the crows. His knees had pressed flush against his chest, hands grabbing onto the candy floss, seemingly to point where he could just easily rip it out if he wanted to.

"Jack.." He groaned, tears falling down by the second, he couldn't handle it anymore, his body had a home, well-paying job, and people who loved him, but inside, his felt like he had no home, he had no worth, and no one cared for him anymore.

"I feel.. Homeless..." He whispered, wishing his pain would end, he looked around the room, hoping to see a Jack to hug, love and protect with all his weak heart. He was wrong, it was only a desk and an empty chair. He sat up, suddenly with tears dried, his face left of all expression. He walked over to the desk, opening the drawer to find a pistol. 

"Mark?" The muffled cries of Matt had startled him, the two were home. He fumbled with the gun, pressing the barrel against his temple, he knew soon they would barge in to make sure he was okay. 

"Mark, open the door!" Ryan pounded on the door, scared of what he was going to hear on the other side, yet he knew what was to come.

"Im done!" Mark had screamed, last thing he felt was pain, then numb.

White.

Black.

Grey.

He woke up in grey, every inanimate object had drained of color. Mark couldn't tell where he was, Heaven? Hell?

"Purgatory." A familiar Irish accent made Mark flip around, to see the green haired blue eyed leprechaun.

"Oh, my-" Jack waved his hand at Mark, silencing him.

"There is no God, no need to say he's your's." Mark raised an eyebrow. This was where all the dead have gone? Such a bleak place, he at least hoped that there was a place of eternal bliss. 

"What do you mean?" He looked down.

"There is no heaven, there is no hell, there is only afterlife, and this is it." The Irish man shrugged.

"I've only been down here a week and a half and- wait." Jack had finally noticed, this was the afterlife, yet Mark was there, standing right before him, his right temple looking like a broken piece of shattered glass, usually the sign of how and where they died.

"Mark-- Why are you here? How did you die- Why did you die?" Jack ran over to widowed lover, and turned his head to see the shatter. A black hole residing where the brain should've been.

"White is homicide, red is assistance, black is.." Jack trailed off, looking back into the brown eyes of the Korean that anybody could love.

"Mark." His voice shuttered.

"Why did you commit suicide?" Mark looked down.

"It's when you feel like nothing is there when the person you love dies." He answered, staring at the white hole where Jack's heart should've been, and looked back at the crystal blues.

"You just can't go on anymore." Jack sighed, staring back.

"At least I have you again." He chuckled, falling in love all over again with the chocolate in the shining orbs, holding Mark's waist protectively, mark doing the exact same, holding Jack's neck. They had done this for quite a time before one had finally spoke up.

"You know what's the best thing about 'Purgatory'." Mark had said, still captivated by eyes he had longed to see so long.

"Yeah? Wait-- Let me guess, it's gon'na be some cheesy line that's gon'na make everything perfect." Jack laughed.

"Well, shit, now what am I going to say if you guessed it?" Mark chuckled along.

"Just say it goober." Jack answered, wanting so badly to do the pose of Shia LaBeouf. Mark shrugged.

"I still get to love you."