The Only Exception // (GOT7 Markson)

10

"Of course, we have your table ready right now. This way, please." with that, Francis motioned frantically for the waitresses to prepare our table with utensils and menus. I followed closely behind Francis, Mark still linked to me.

Francis led us into a small area in the back that was closed off from the general public by a silk veil. It was dimly lit and had soothing music playing over the table. There was a bottle of champagne already sitting in an ice bucket when we arrived at the table. Francis pulled my chair out, and I quickly stepped to the side to pull Mark's out for him.

"Thank you, Jackson." Mark giggled as if the gesture was more silly than chivalrous. I nodded with a grin.

"If there's anything else I can get you, please don't hesitate to ask. Other than that, enjoy your meal." Francis said, giving me a warm pat on my shoulder. I mouthed a "thank you" to him as he walked away.

It wasn't until we were finally alone that the feelings of romance began to creep back into my skull. I finally felt as though we were on a date. The candle light danced and flickered in Mark's face, painting sparkles all over his dark eyes like a starry night.

"I just gotta say, and please don't get embarrassed or sick of me saying this. I know it can get annoying..." I mumbled.

"Yes?" Mark asked, looking confused.

"You're just, ugh. You're so handsome." I said. I was beginning to embarrass myself, realizing that I probably sounded like some giddy teenage girl.

Mark scrunched his face up into a silly grin and thanked me. "You're really cute too, Jacks."

In my mind I screamed "really?!" but my mouth simply smiled and my head looked down bashfully.

Mark thinks I'm cute. There is was again, the teenage girl in me.

"What do you think I should get?" Mark broke my stares with a look of his own, meeting my eyes just above the brim of the centerpiece between us.

"The pasta here is delicious. Everything is homemade from local deliveries." I said confidently, placing a finger on the menu where the pasta section was.

"Oh wow, this is really expensive," Mark said nervously, looking at me as if he'd done something wrong.

"No, no it's okay." I remembered just then what Tyler had said about not taking it too extravagant, and how someone like Mark would be off-put by expensive nights out.

I didn't want Mark to feel as though I was going to be spending over 300$ on our food alone - even though I was.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Mark. Francis is my co-worker, they're giving us an employee discount for tonight. Everything is free." I lied, trying to convince Mark to order without feeling bad.

"I mean, alright. Still, who would ever pay this much for a bowl of fettuccine?" Mark's question was rhetorical as he skimmed his eyes down the length of the menu, stopping when he saw what he wanted.

"I'll have the prime rib, make sure it's well done with a side of caramelized onions and mushrooms, the garlic mash is fine," I instructed the waitress as the eagerly jotted down my order.

"And for yourself sir?" she squeaked to Mark.

"Um, I'm not sure how to pronounce this," Mark said, holding the menu up to her. She squinted and leaned in, nodding a second before jotting down his order too.

Man, he's adorable, I thought.

While we waited for our food to arrive, I listened as Mark went on a long explanation of why microwaves were bad for our health and how we should only eat organic and avoid putting preservatives in our food.

I couldn't be more uninterested in that topic, but between the wrinkles on his forehead every now and then, mixed with the determination in his eyes and the conviction in his voice, Mark was completely drawing me in.

"Sounds like you really care about health and the environment," I said, a little overwhelmed with information.

"Well, we only have one body right? Just like we only have one Earth. Why shouldn't we take care of it?" he asked seriously, then smiled shyly.

"I wish I had that much investment in something other than work." I groaned, taking another sip of my champagne.

"You must have some hobbies, no?" Mark pressed.

Flashbacks of me being naked and sprawled out on a table between the thighs of a stranger instantly entered my mind. I quickly shot the idea away and tried honestly to think of something I enjoyed on my spare time.

"I guess I like the gym. Working out is an escape just as much as it is enjoyable." I said to him.

"I sorta figured you worked out. I mean, look at those guns." Mark teased, pushing his finger onto my arm.

For the first time in my entire life I was shy about my body - I flinched back and covered my bicep with my hand, curling into myself like I was being attacked. Normally, I would've flexed and proudly displayed my hard work, but sitting here at this table across from Mark had me completely and utterly self-conscious.

He appeared to give zero effort into his appearance, yet managed to look as though he was carved out of the finest marble. His smile looked so real and genuine, and for a second I felt as though I was beginning to understand Mark.

I wanted could listen to him talk about microwaves, organic food, whatever, forever. I had no other place in my mind that I'd rather be.

We almost finished the bottle of champagne when our food arrived. My stomach grumbled lowly when I saw the fine meat placed in front of me. Mark ordered the carbonara in a white wine sauce. It looked equally as good. I wasted little time before going in with my knife and fork, pulling the meat apart hungrily.

Mark took his time, twirling the food on his fork playfully. It almost made me sick how graceful he looked even when eating. It was nearly a damn art form, the way he ate.

Five minutes into the meal Mark's phone begins buzzing on the table. He grabs it, looks at the caller, and then excuses himself from the table. I gladly take the time alone to check myself out in the nearest reflection I can find, pulling the emergency comb out of my pocket and doing a quick one over of my hair.

When Mark comes back he looks a little apologetic. "I'm sorry, Jacks. I totally forgot I took my brother's key this weekend when I visited them at home. He needs it because they're going to be locked out if the house otherwise. I told him where I am, though, so he'll be here soon to get it. I hope you don't mind, we can leave to the museum right after, and then no more distractions. Promise."

I didn't know if my ears were deceiving me or not, but it sounded like Tyler was on his way to come and see us. I felt the hairs on my arm rise a little, and suddenly the room became a little hot and stuffy.

"Yeah, sure." is all I could say back, my Adam's apple lifting and falling nervously. I'm not a religious person, but in that moment I felt myself praying for help - a miracle even.