The Games We Play (Markiplier FanFic)

Two: The Game of Denial

Harmony's hands abruptly came to a halt over her keyboard as she heard her front door open and close harshly. She paused a bit longer to listen to the familiar sounds of her best friend's footsteps, but as she glanced over the last few lines of text she had typed, the footsteps came to a sudden stop and an uncharacteristic silence ensued in her home.

Most of her weekend had been spent here at her computer recording videos for YouTube as LetHarpiePlay. It was a gaming channel that she kept updated once a day with game reviews, playthroughs, and weekend top 10 countdowns. But once that was finished for the time being, she dedicated the rest of her time working on an article for her boss that really needed to be finished tonight. Fortunately she was able to get out for a while on Saturday to enjoy her day outside and meet with Mark for lunch before taking care of some errands. Yesterday was one of the rare days when she didn't see Mark, but from frequent exchanges of text messages she knew he had a busy Sunday planned and that was fine since she really needed to work on her article. Today, however, he hadn't texted her all day, which wasn't exactly unheard of, but it usually meant he was either behind schedule or something had interrupted his plans.

Usually he had sought her out by now in whatever room she was in, but as the silence continued to stretch on she began to feel the need to find him instead. She abandoned her work on the computer for now and wandered out from her room.

"Mark?" she called softly as she made her way down the hall. She furrowed her brow in slight concern when she came into the living room and there found a certain dark-haired man sprawled out across the length of her couch, face down as if he had quite literally just fallen onto it. Gently, she took a seat beside his head, lightly brushing a few strands of his hair aside to try and get a peek at his face. His eyes were closed and a frown had been creased into his forehead. "Hey," she murmured to him.

"Hmm," was the only quiet response she received, mostly muffled by the couch cushion.

"Bad Monday?" she asked.

"Hmmph," came the groan again. Finally he shifted just enough to free the rest of his face from the cushion, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. "Headache," he muttered.

Ah. Now she understood. "Bad game?" she guessed. "Did you rage too much?"

"Yeah, I got mad," he admitted.

She sighed. It didn't happen that often and even in the few times it did he didn't always come out of it in a bad way, but things didn't always go so smoothly. Her fingers absently combed through his hair and she watched the soft strands gradually slip through them. "What can I do for you?" she eventually asked.

He moved again, only just enough to turn onto his side and scoot up to rest his head against her thigh clad in the soft black fabric of the sweatpants she had on since she had been cooped up writing all day. "Just stay here with me," he said.

Harmony smiled faintly at his request. "Okay," she whispered. She remembered the unfinished article waiting for her in her room, but suddenly it didn't really seem quite as important as staying right here with Mark. She was almost done with it anyway. She could finish it before she went to bed. (*)

She let her gaze fall on his still form, wondering exactly when he had managed to lodge himself so deeply in her heart that she would drop whatever she was doing to help him. She had had a handful of best friends in her life so far, but none of them even held a candle to this. She was truly blessed to have someone like Mark in her life, and it was the least she could do to be here for him when he needed it.

"Thank you," he murmured, pulling her out of her musings. He reached up to catch her hand in his hair, laying his own on top of it to squeeze it for just a moment before letting her resume.

And for a reason she could not explain, butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her voice caught in her throat.

What in the world?

Quite confused by her rather strange reaction, she suddenly felt the need to distract herself and derail whatever train of thought her mind was conjuring. She leaned over to grab a book on the end table she had started reading some time ago. Shrugging to herself and mentally shaking off... whatever that weird feeling was, she flipped to her bookmark and immersed her thoughts in reading instead of her best friend.

She almost made it through three chapters before she began to realize that the weight against her leg had gotten a bit heavier and his deep, steady breathing was the only sound filling the room. A smile played at the corners of her lips as she returned her book to the end table where she had left it last and carefully bent over to catch another glimpse of his face to check on him. Just as she thought, he was out, glasses all askew. He probably fell asleep shortly after she started reading, she surmised. She didn't blame him. She could see today had been rough on him.

She felt a yawn coming on and decided that sleep was indeed a good idea, but as she stretched her arms over her head she was reminded once again about her article that still demanded her attention and stood between her and that sleep she was wanting to get to. She groaned internally and silently reprimanded herself for letting it wait. But then again, she thought as her gaze fell back down to the sleeping man on her lap, she wasn't really sorry she let it wait after all. She wouldn't want to miss out on moments like this.

With one last run of fingers through soft black strands, she ever-so-carefully reached over him to the throw pillow that she was very grateful he wasn't laying on. Slowly -- and reluctantly -- she replaced her lap with the pillow, feeling pretty accomplished when she succeeded without waking him. Once she was up, she gently pulled his glasses off to set them on the end table before going to lock the front door that he had left open, and quickly she fetched a fleece blanket from the hall closet to lay over him. She didn't know if he would sleep through the night or if he would wake up in a few hours and go back to his own bed, but at least he would be comfortable here for the time being. Satisfied with her care taking skills, she meant to turn and head back to her room, but her gaze lingered on his serene expression longer than she meant it to. But this time she caught her mind wandering and felt herself blushing madly for staring.

Get a hold of yourself, crazy, she silently scolded herself. You need sleep.

With that, she turned off the light to retire to her room, but not before stealing one last glance back at him, wondering if he would be there in the morning.

Track: Dream by Howard Hello