Take This Dance. {Markiplier x Reader}

Chapter Fifteen:

245 days until competition.
October 23.

"Okay," Mark crossed his arms and paced back and forth across the basement, "So, we currently have eight months until the competition."

I nodded in response.

"Are you sure you're alright with practicing four days a week?" He stopped pacing for a while and looked straight at me. He gestured his hand at me.

"Yeah, sure," I nodded once more.

"Okay, okay," Mark sighed, pushing up the brim of his glasses with his middle finger. He began to pace again along the brightly lit basement. I watched him walk back and forth.

"Are you okay?" I asked, adjusting my sitting position on the hardwood floor. I brought my arms behind my back, leaning against them for support.

"What, me?" He pointed at himself, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Is the stress getting to you?" I asked as I continued to watch him.

"Maybe a little," his voice went high, causing it to crack. He nodded to himself.

"Don't be stressed," I stood up and carefully walked over to him. I tilted my head downwards to look at my ballet slippers as I walked. He stopped pacing and stood in place.

"You know, it's kind of hard to not be stressed at the moment," he sighed, then moved his head slightly to the side to kind of get a glance at me.

My eyes traveled up his back, then slowly downwards. His jet black t-shirt tugged tightly around his shoulder blades and around his upper arms. I took a moment to look at his prominent muscles that had managed to seep through the fabric of his shirt. In that moment, I tried so hard to not get flustered.

"Okay, this might be a little weird, but just..." I closed my eyes and sighed deeply, "...Trust me."

"...Okay?" He mumbled in a confused tone.

I carefully rose my hands up hesitantly, stopping them near to where my jawline was. I began to reach my hands outwards, but quickly jolted them back. I rolled my eyes and sighed before attempting to coil my arms around his waist. He quickly raised his arms in shock at first, but then adjusted himself to feel more comfortable about it.

"I'm not much of a hugger, so..." I rested my cheek against his back. I could feel the warmness of him against my face, as I breathed in his scent.

"{Y/N}?" Mark chuckled, "Why are you hugging me?"

"Well, I heard that hugs can reduce stress," I said, still having my face rest against his back, "And I can't have you stressed out about a stupid dance competition."

He laughed to himself before gently placing his hands with mine. I felt my face begin to heat up.

"Thanks," he said. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell that he was smiling. I stopped hugging him after a while.

"Did that help?" My eyebrows began to stitch together. He turned around to face me.

"Yes," he said lowly, "...A little." He took my hands, holding them softly. His hands were rough, but at the same time soft. I glanced down at our hands, then looked at Mark through the edges of my lashes.

I felt my cheeks grow hot.

I cleared my throat, "G-Good...That's good."

"We should probably get started then, should we?" Mark said as he walked to a chair with his untied dancing shoes resting on the cushion of a chair. The long laces of the shoes dropped lowly, almost touching the ground.

"Yeah, yeah," I clasped my hands together and turned my back towards Mark, "We should get started right away."

That marks the first time that I had felt something towards Mark.