Felix's boy

Chapter seven

Jacks POV

I anxiously knock on Marks door, feeling excited and nervous. I've never slept over anywhere other than Felix's house, and I knew I could do whatever I wanted there without him judging me. I don't know enough about Mark. Maybe Felix is right...

The door swings open, and thoughts of Felix run away. Mark stands in the doorway, a smile on his face.

"Hey," I mutter a little too quietly, smiling.

"Hi. Come on in." He steps aside, allowing me to walk in and look around. He has a nice house. It's not too big, nor is it too small. It's the perfect size for a little family in Ohio.

"I like your house," I tell him. Mark shrugs.

"It does us, even if there's not a spot in the ceiling that doesn't leak."

I chuckle at that. After I take off my shoes he leads me upstairs to his room, where a small television is propped on a box on the floor.

"My mom let me move the living room television into my room. However, I didn't have anything to put it on, so PlayStation box."

I nod, grinning.

"Professional setup."

"I know."

He sits down and I sit beside him. He looks at the small bag in my hand.

"Is that all you have?"

"I'm only here for the night."

"I know, I'm just saying."

"So what's on the agenda?"

Mark smiles, standing like he's pitching a great idea to me.

"I was thinking video games, pizza and movie marathon."

"What movies?"

"Well, I was thinking--and we can change it if you don't like these--Knomeo and Juliet, Fifty First Dates, Just Go With It, Easy A, and finish with Kings Men so we still feel like dudes."

"Sounds perfect."

"Great."

Mark puts on Rocket League and we sit on the floor, controllers in hand. I notice his knee is touching mine, and feel butterflies trying to break out of my stomach.

...

After too many rounds to count, Mark wins overall. He stands from the floor, dancing on the bed and humming in victory. I laugh, pretending to be raining money on him.

"If you can't tell, my second profession is stripping," Mark announces, jumping down from the bed.

"You'd get an award for those moves," I chuckle with a playful wink. Marks whole face turns red, making my light chuckle turn into a fit of laughter. "Aw! Little Marki's embarrassed, is he?"

"S-shut up."

"Aw, it's okay Marki," I hum, "you look cute when you blush."

Mark laughs awkwardly. "Okay okay, changing the subject. Wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Sure."

Mark opens Netflix on his PlayStation, putting on Knomeo and Juliet, as promised. We sit down on the bed, making us have to look down at the television, but it's much more comfortable. To be honest, and I wouldn't say this to Mark, my bum was staring to hurt.

Halfway through the movie, Mark announces that he has to go to the bathroom and leaves me by myself in his room. His phone begins to ring beside me, "No Caller ID" flashing on screen.

"Mark, your phone!" I call to him.

"Answer it for me!" He calls back.

I shrug, answering the phone and pressing it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Seán William McLoughlin! I swear on the earth we walk on I will find you!" A terrifyingly familiar voice screams into the phone. My eyes widen and I feel my hands begin to shake. I can't speak, can't form the words to reply. I drop the phone onto the bed as my eyes begin to blur with tears. My breath quickens, and the screaming is still coming from the phone. I struggle my way off the bed, falling and hitting my side painfully.

Mark renters the room, running over to my side.

"Jack! What happened?"

I can't form any words. I breath heavily, shaking my head so hard my neck hurts. No matter how many times I breath in, my lungs never fill. Mark seems to hear the screaming and grabs the phone, hanging it up.

"Are you okay? What do you need?"

"I... I can't breath..."

Mark fumbles, obviously overwhelmed. He helps me to my feet, basically carrying me outside and onto the cold front lawn. He sits me down on the grass, kneeling beside me.

"I really don't know what to do. I've never had to deal with anything like this before," Mark sighs. He gently takes my hand, careful not to startle me.

I continue to forcefully inhale, fear overtaking me as my breaths fall shorter than they should be.

"Jack, listen carefully. Don't focus on anything except for my voice. Breath in through your nose for... uh... seven seconds? Yeah, seven seconds, I think I read somewhere that's what you do."

I do as I'm told, not without difficulty.

"Now hold your breath for three seconds, then exhale slowly through your mouth."

I do as I'm told. Mark begins to rub my back in circles, stopping me in advance from coughing on sobs.

"Again, in for seven seconds," he counts down the seven seconds for me, then the three, then waits until I'm ready to begin counting down again. After a while, I begin to do it by myself, without him counting. The tears in my eyes subside and I can see the beautiful night sky.

I finally can calm down, the tears still fresh on my cheeks, my heart still beating out of my chest. Mark scoots over so he's sitting in front of me rather than beside me. In embarrassment, I don't look up at him.

"Thank you," I mumble. "I'm so sorry to ruin our night like this."

"Hey, you didn't ruin anything."

I shrug, not believing him. He can see right through me. He gently lays a finger under my chin, pointing my face toward his. I look into his eyes, I can feel the shame pouring through mine, but all I see in his are affection.

"You didn't ruin anything," he repeats, emphasizing the words. He gently wipes the tears from my eyes, giving me a small smile. "And you don't owe me an explanation."

I squint my eyes in confusion and happiness. How can someone be so... amazing? So kind and loving, especially to someone like me.

Finally, I utter the only words that I feel I can get out.

"Can I kiss you?"

(Ooooh cliffhangers!! I'm quite rude, aren't I? That's okay, I'm not here to make you feel warm and fuzzy all the times, writers are made for destroying your life and making you question your existence. *waves*)