𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 • 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐞

Ch5 • L

۞︎ To the bleeding skies ۞︎

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝙻𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚑 ♫︎

"How do I make the skies bleed?"

Mark shifts the glass of rum in his hand, asking the question, watching the liquid swirl. He looks up to meet his friend's Hazel orbs, tilting his head. Jared lifts his head up from a propped finger on his temple, humming.

"By making the world below it bleed?" He replies in suggestion. The latter grins, nodding his head. "That could be one of them"

"Why do you ask?" asks the younger then.

Mark heaves out a sigh, eyes going back to the alcoholic beverage. "Nothing, really. It just seems very boring to persist with ill-witted murders all the time" he says, seeing the dry blood stains on his hands.

"Why bother worrying over such things, Lee?" Jared questions, crossing a leg over the other, fingers tapping on the arm rest of the expensive couch. "You already have something battened down your palm at the age of 18," he laughs emptily. "Hell, you'll be sure to have the skies bleeding by 25"

Mark sighs again, placing the glass on a table just beside his couch seat, suddenly losing interest. "I know, I know. It's just, I've been feeling restive about the matter. I can't seem to keep my hands firm"

Jared falls into thought for a few seconds, as he hummed in accordance. "Seems like your patience is running thin, Mark hyung. How piteous" he chuckles darkly, as the other rolls his eyes.

"Can you blame me?" Mark huffs, lips molding into a smile. "The mere thought rouses every nerve in my body"

"No, I can't" Jared frowns, lip twitching in annoyance. "But I can blame you for ruining my carpet" he says, jabbing a finger at the bloodstained surface.

Mark rolls his eyes, grabbing for the glass again and chugging the drink down in one gulp, sighing in refreshment. "Not my fault your maid's a slut who can't keep her hands to herself" He mocks, standing up to wipe his hands with a pearly towel.

"Yeah, but it is your fault that I'm gonna get in trouble for destroying a million dollar carpet from Vienna" The younger spits back, slowly petting the phantom shaded feline friend on his lap, clearly frustrated.

Mark chuckles, looking behind him to see Jared still seated in his position. "Don't be so cross, Jared. I'll make it up to you" he says, walking back to the coffee table, taking a cigar and lighting it up.

The said ravenette raises a brow. "Oh yeah? How then?"

"I'll pay for the damage" He answers, as Jared frowns. "I can easily do that on my own with just a snap of a finger, Mark. The problem is, my dumb excuse of a mother who'll question it and blame me"

"No, she won't" Mark replies with ease. Jared looks at him displeased. "How are you so certain?" he questions blankly.

Mark grins, puffing out smoke. "You know I have my ways, Mr Smile" he winks.