Markiplier: REBOOT

Episode 7: Storms are Beautiful {revised}

Hello guys!

I just wanted to let you know that the ending of this chapter was actually a lot shorter than I hoped it to be. This episode was planned to be MUCH longer than this but I realized I wouldn’t have enough time to finish it by the end of the long Thanksgiving weekend, just like I had promised. I'm trying my best to actually follow through my promises. My grandmother is flying in for a visit today (Sunday) and I’ll be busy until Monday night, which leaves VERY little time to actually finish what I had planned... and the rest of the chapter seemed excessive to the this particular story without our 'novel' of sorts

However, I believe this chapter is indeed long enough and I hope that you enjoy it until I can get the next Episode 8: Chaos and Piss started and published. I already know what I want to happen, as it is what I had planned for this chapter as its ending, but I need to take a break from writing to spend time with my family. I hope this isn’t too much of an inconvenience!

~Sandy Clegane

P.S. Sorry if the ending seems rushed but it’s 1:50AM, I've got shit to do tomorrow and I’ve been writing/editing like a mad woman this past week. As always, this won’t be perfectly edited because I am dead tired. Please take note that this chapter MAY be subject to editing. I’m hoping to look for the input from someone who is helping me shape this story and some things may change.

Enjoy the story :)

Episode 7: Storms are Beautiful

As per usual, Bob was the last person to leave. He enveloped me in a hug, kissed my forehead one last time and I watched as he disappeared into the night. I turned away with a smile and closed the door. My hand automatically reached out for the Open sign and I switched it off, as if by instinct. It was part of my nightly ritual, so to speak, and I committed every movement to memory.

I closed the blinds and made sure the deadlock was bolted. The booze behind the counter was worth a fortune so it would be a very bad thing if it was stolen. Tony and I cleared the main dining room of all the leftover plates, bread baskets as well as empty mugs and beer bottles. This was all done in silence. Tony tried his best to talk to me but I wasn’t in the mood. If I wasn’t trying to make an impression on customers with a fake smile and half-hearted laughs at the drunken jokes they cracked, I wasn’t saying much. My mind needed a break from small-talk and playful banters.

Before Tony left for the night, he put a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. That was all I needed to know that everything would eventually be ok. I smiled and hugged him. It took Tony a second to realize what was going on but then he wrapped his arms around my small frame and held me tightly to him.

“I didn’t know what it was like. You were right,” I mumbled into his chest.

He squished me a little closer and replied, “I wish I wasn’t.”

We released each other and we parted ways. I locked the back door, set the alarm and retired to my apartment. For whatever reason, my legs decided to stop working once I reached the bottom of the stairs. My eyes turned to the emerald green carpet ascending to my apartment and I was struck with the memory of the first time I met Mark. The thought of it brought a small pang to my heart but it wasn’t gut wrenchingly painful. Rather, it was bittersweet.

My lips twisted into a smirk at the memory of hauling Mark up the stairs. I chuckled lightly as I walked through the memory, climbing the stairs and how it had taken me a painstaking five minutes to do. Now my legs carried me with a certain ease. I shook my head and ridded myself of the memory of the time being. Weak fingers fumbled the keys into the lock and I entered my apartment, kicking off my shoes. It felt oddly empty tonight, more so than it usually did. There was a certain feeling that it lacked—the feeling of home. With each passing day since the fight my apartment felt less and less like home and more like a place to live before I could start anew someplace else.