❝ so, um... would that be like green or red? ❞
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in which mark isn't interested in figuring out what his soulmate's hex color is.
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✶ morklala 2022
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there was that number, beaming out to him—mocking him as he traced a finger over it. it was permanent, connected to him forever.
mark glared at the curve of dark ink, printed and displayed on his body. he hated how it looked. he hated how it stood out. he hated how every time he saw himself in the mirror—shirt on or off—he would be reminded of its presence. he would be reminded of her and their past.
mark's thoughts are usually calming. he liked thinking but he despised thoughts about her. it made him feel stupid and childish. he was stupid and childish for ever thinking the tattoo could change anything between them. the boy took a deep breath, defeated.
no matter how much the internship meant to him, it wasn't everything if it meant he had to go apply for the real code. that first experience was painful enough. he remembered being so excited and so giddy about getting his first tattoo and the number he had waited his whole life for. he's heard about mistakes from the system before but he didn't think they'd screw him over. what if the system messes up again?
he only meant to examine the thing for a bit but he really should be leaving getting back to work. mark buttoned up his shirt and tucked it into his slacks. he tied on the apron hanging on a hook and exited the empty bathroom.
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