-- Jack --
It had been nearly a week of Mark and I hanging out wherever and whenever we pleased. We hung out at the skate park, at Carson Café, we would go to the library when Mark really wanted to (I never imagined he was a bookworm) , we would head downtown to walk around, or we would even just hang out at my house. When I say that we hung out any time we wanted to, it was normally in the late hours of the night or the early hours of the morning. It would be three in the morning and I would go to his house to pick him up and take him wherever he pleased.
Which is exactly what I'm doing right now.
I'm standing outside his house waiting on him. Only a heartbeat or so after a sigh passed my lips, I saw him emerge from his bedroom window. Leather jacket, hair slicked back, with a white T-shirt and blue jeans. He looked stunning. He gently crawled down the side of the house. Once he got to me, he hugged me. Of course, he was still nervous around me, but that was beginning to fade away.
"Good Morning, Mark!" I told him as I encased him in my arms. He breathed steadily, showing me that he was still tired.
"Good Morning, Jack." He said sleepily.
I can't keep my eyes off him, and that makes me blurt out the first thing I think of so I don't look weird.
"I didn't know you used hair gel." I tell him as he lets go of the hug.
"It's not hair gel. I ran out of that about a week ago." He says to me, rubbing sleep from his eyes. I gave him a confused look.
"Then how did you fix your hair?" I asked him.
"With butter. It works really well when you run out of gel." He gives a smirk and I stare at the man before me, clearly handsome and tired as hell.
"Well, let's go." He told me, walking from his front yard.
I secretly admitted just then that I loved his sleepy voice. It was a gravelly and deep serenade to me and I wanted to hug him again; hold him tighter, closer to me. Not that he would notice it. He was drunk off sleep and too tired to care. Walking from his front yard, we placed our skateboards on the ground, pushing off into the morning.
Marks headphones blasted in his ears as the cool woke him up. I was riding along, doing the same.
"Carson Café?" I call out to him. He nods in response and we headed in that direction.
The morning was cool against my face and the sky was darker than ever. Few stars were out at this time, though Mark still looked up in wonder.
When we finally got to the Cafe, we realized something had happened. There were a few more people than normal at the small shop, making Mark and I glance at each other in confusion.
Hardly anyone was ever at the Cafe during the day, much less four in the morning.
We walked in and nothing seemed out of order. The only difference were a few people sat at tables scattered across the cafe. As usual, we wiped out feet on the welcome mat, giving each other confused looks as we stepped to the counter.
Who were these people? Why were they here at this time of night? What the hell was going on?
Our glances said everything for us as Louis came from the back and picked up a notepad and shoving it into his apron. His eyes were a bright blue and his hair a decent shade of brown. His joking smile never wavered as he welcomed me.
YOU ARE READING
Street Youth Rising ~Septiplier~
Fanfiction"I gave him a week before he decided he wasn't going to come back. He already looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. He wasn't built. He was weak with his voice. An awkward teenager who could barely hold eye contact with a goldfish. That w...
